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But this wasn’t about Sebastian. He needed to find out more about Mr. Townsend, and he needed to figure out if he was the gentleman Victoria fancied.
“Are you a part of the Society of Dilettanti, then?” he asked.
Mr. Townsend shook his head. “I attended their gatherings a couple of times, but no. Are you?”
Sebastian snorted. “Oh, no. I’ve visited once, and it was quite enough. Something about young men who visit the Continent once and proclaim themselves connoisseurs does not sit well with me.”
Mr. Townsend grinned. “I did not think you would enjoy it either.”
Sebastian liked this gentleman already. But what could he ask to figure out if he was interested in Victoria? Of course, he was interested. The man seemed to be in possession of good taste. But was he the one Victoria fancied?
“I would love to continue this conversation,” Mr. Townsend said as he looked at the setting sun. “But I am afraid I won’t be ready for tea.”
Right. Afternoon tea was fast approaching. But then they’d have dinner. And that’s when Sebastian would be certain to observe Victoria’s attention toward Mr. Townsend. “Understandable. We can continue our discussion later, perhaps, during the port.”
“That would be splendid!”
“There’s an exit further down. It’s actually a closer way to get to the guest wing rather than going back through the main hall,” Sebastian supplied.
“Perfect. I shall be looking forward to our dinner conversation,” Mr. Marcus Townsend said and hurried away.
“As shall I.” Sebastian tipped his head and was left alone, staring at his paintings.
Would he ever be able to finish another painting? Or was his career as the famous Bastian Devis over so soon?
He walked slowly past the ghosts of his models, looking at his work, and heaved a long sigh.
There was a clatter somewhere down the corridor. He peeked out and saw a lady straightening the painting she must have knocked over.
No, notalady,thelady.
His muse.
Sebastian stared at the woman he had been dreaming about for the past few nights. His feverish dreams all rushed up to his head, making his cheeks heat. She was truly a vision with her soft, round bosom, her cherry pink lips, and her full apple cheeks. She looked around in confusion as if searching for someone.Him? Was it possible she was indeed looking for him?
Sebastian cleared his throat, and she turned toward him. She placed a hand softly to her chest, as if he’d startled her, then smiled and walked up to him. There was no glimmer of recognition in her eyes. So she hadn’t come here for him.What is she doing here then?
“Apologies, I did not mean to impose… I thought I saw a gentleman enter through here.” She glanced back at the door.
Sebastian didn’t say anything, he just continued watching her carefully. In his mind, he was picking out colors to paint her with.
She was wearing a simple, beige day gown that almost blended with her skin in the worst sense. The color was different enough to not encourage lurid thoughts but not different enough to make a striking contrast. Quite simply, the gown did nothing to complement her complexion. More than that, her bodice was too high, hiding her glorious bosom, her sleeves were too tight on her arms, bunching the fabric and emphasizing her soft, full figure, and the skirts were… He paused while looking her over; were they torn at the edges?
In short, this gown was nothing like the lavish one she wore at the ball when he’d seen her first. He returned his gaze to her eyes. She was still looking at him inquiringly.
“I must have been mistaken. Are you alone here?” she asked.
Sebastian frowned in thought. “No.” After all, this was not a lie. He wasn’t alone. He was with her. But the truth was, he knew that if he said they were alone, she would have left the room immediately, and he wanted a little more time to study her. He slowly shifted toward the portraits area. “Are you an art enthusiast? A connoisseur?”
She looked around the gallery. “I have to admit, not at all.”
He raised a brow. “You are not interested in art?”
She shrugged lightly. “I never truly thought about it. And isn’t being a connoisseur a male occupation?”
“Anyone can appreciate the beauty around them, can they not?”
His muse slowly walked toward him and peeked at one of the paintings, incidentally, of a half-naked woman. Her cheeks burned, and her eyes rounded. “This is what you find beautiful?”
