Page 16 of Memories Made At Midnight

Seven

Cassius’ studio

Indeed, he could switch the painting with one of the other pieces in the exhibition.

The tones of her luxurious hair mirrored her lively spirit and warmth, and her infectious smile was a beacon of light. In short, Beatrice Fairfax was a masterpiece of nature.

How could her uncle be so blind to her loveliness?

By God, people would stop in their tracks to gaze upon her likeness.

Cassius forced his focus back to the moment. “Would you like a brief tour of the studio?”

“Oh, yes, please.” She laid her cloak over a nearby chair. “If it w-wouldn’t be an inconvenience.”

“Ahem.” Millborn cleared her throat, not quite in disapproval, but certainly in deterrence. “Shouldn’t you begin at once?”

“Forgive me, Millborn.” Cassius flashed her his most disarming smile, and the woman’s starchy demeanor promptly transformed into doe-eyed adoration.

It was terrible of him to manipulate the servant, but Cassius wanted to share his work and studio with Beatrice. The desire made absolutely no sense, but he refused to analyze his motives or the impetus prompting him.

“I know sittings can be quite tedious. I hope you’ll indulge me, for I presumed to prepare a cozy area for you.” Cassius indicated a corner beside another window with an overstuffed armchair, a table with a tea service and steaming pot of tea, an assortment of biscuits he’d purchased from the baker three blocks away, and two gossip rags.

The maid’s eyes lit up like fireworks over Vauxhall Gardens.

“How thoughtful of you, Lord Cassius,” she fairly purred.

“Millborn, why d-don’t you make yourself comfortable while Lord Cassius g-gives me a short tour?” Miss Fairfax touched the maid’s shoulder in affection. “I kn-know your arthritis has been acting up.”

Most nobles had no idea when their domestics ailed. It said much about Miss Fairfax that she not only noticed but also cared.

Indecision flickered across the aged servant’s face as she glanced covetously at the tempting array a few feet away. “If you’re quite certain…”

“Indeed.” Miss Fairfax—Beatrice—glanced up at Cassius.

Surely it could do no harm for him to think of her by her given name.

Did she know Beatrice meant bringer of joy?

“My studio is not overly large, as you can see, Millborn. Do make yourself comfortable.” He offered her his arm and her eyes went round as twin moons. “I promise, you shall be able to see us at all times.”

Millborn darted Beatrice an astonished glance before breaking into a toothy grin, and laying her hand upon his forearm, allowed Cassius to escort her to her little nook.

“You are most thoughtful, Lord Cassius.” Once settled comfortably, she shooed them away. “Go on with you. We cannot dally too long. His lordship wants the portrait finished right quick.”

Millborn sent Beatrice an apologetic glance. “Oh, dear, I didn’t mean…”

“I know, Millborn.” Despite her reassuring words and accompanying smile, the corners of Beatrice’s eyes tightened, as did her rosebud mouth.

What woman was eager to have her likeness painted, knowing it would be used to find her a husband not of her choosing?

Honestly, Cassius was of a mind to take his time in completing the project—particularly as he would also secretly be creating a full-sized painting. Not just to spite the pretentious ponce, but to delay Beatrice’s unpleasant fate as long as possible.

He couldn’t help but notice her stutter wasn’t as apparent when her uncle wasn’t around. Likely, the overbearing, unfeeling cur agitated the condition.

“Come, let me show you my current work.” Cassius sought to distract Beatrice from the dark thoughts that no doubt paraded through her mind. “It’s a seascape.”

She nodded and stepped away, murmuring beneath her breath, “I’ll wager she’s asleep w-within fifteen minutes.”