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Something was amiss with his muse, but Sebastian was not about to give up easily. “Then how about I try and provide the amusement for you instead?” Sebastian offered his arm.
She looked at him from under the furrowed brows. She was so tiny, just a fraction of his height, which was why her expression was more comical than threatening. Her eyes darted to the side for a second, before she nodded to herself and placed her fingers on his sleeve.
* * *
The dinner was a disaster. The entire house party was not going the way Lavinia had planned either. Instead of spending time with Mr. Townsend, she was constantly accosted by Lord Roth. If that wasn’t bad enough, seeing Kensington, speaking with him, pulled the rug right out from under her feet.
So Lavinia sat there concentrating on her food instead of the conversation around her. People made her anxious. Food made her feel better, if only for a few moments.
“I enjoy a woman with a hearty appetite,” Lord Roth said by her side. “But if you continue ignoring me in favor of your plate, people will think that you prefer venison to my conversation.”
Lavinia licked the remnants of the venison’s juicy flavor off her lips. “But I do indeed prefer venison to your conversation,” she said quietly.
“You wound me,” Lord Roth placed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I am trying to be a gracious host.”
“By offending me? Offering to paint me as an excuse to—” Lavinia clamped her lips shut, realizing that she spoke too loudly. What was it about this man that could so easily arouse the flames of ire within her?
“It is a compliment, I assure you,” the wretch said with a grin.
He bowed his head, dark hair glinting in the candlelight, now, more than ever, standing out, in contrast to other gentlemen surrounding him with stark white wigs. And then to her horror, he turned to his other side and called for Mr. Townsend, who happened to be sitting a few seats down. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Townsend?”
Lavinia froze in horror. Her eyes darted to the gentleman in question. What was Roth doing?
“Apologies, my lord. I must have missed the question.”
“Wouldn’t you say that an offering to paint a person is meant as a compliment?”
Lavinia was ready to collapse from shame. What was he doing?
“If the offer is extended by you, then no doubt,” Mr. Townsend replied. “Lord Roth is one of the greatest contemporary artists of our time.”
The gasps and whispers of surprise ran down the table, while Lord Roth turned toward Lavinia. “See,ma petiteLady Lavinia? I would not dream of causing you offense. On the contrary.”
Petite? Lavinia raised her brow.
Uncommon for most dinners where people only talked to the people beside them, their side of the table started animatedly discussing art, a buzz of conversation enveloping the entire room.
“Very well,” Lavinia allowed. “Perhaps you are not a lecherous old marquess on the prowl for a young, gullible soul.”
Lord Roth’s dark, forest green eyes twinkled in merriment. “Coming from you, that is a high praise indeed.”
