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that from
your mind. Your painting has naught to do with any of it.”
    “I would certainly agree, my lord. Though I might ask
what, then, other than an interest in my cousin, prompts
you to honor the Formsbys with your company.”
    “I am not accustomed to having my motives or actions so questioned,” he said testily.
    “I do not mean to do so, my lord. Nevertheless, you
must know that my cousin’s expectations have been …
excited.”
    “If they have been so `excited,’ I am sorry for it,” he
bit out. “Must we quarrel?”
    “I was not aware we quarreled,” she countered softly.

    Immediately his shoulders eased. He gave her a smile.
“Certainly not,” he agreed. Again he surveyed the drawing room, where additional callers were filling out the
company. “Still, I must be permitted to further your interests. Perhaps-well, I might ease an introduction. If
you could paint anyone of your acquaintance here in
town, Miss Ware, whom would you choose?”
    Marian looked up at his profile, only to meet his penetrating gaze as he turned to her once more. “You expect me to say I would paint you, Lord Sidley.”
    “On the contrary. You will paint me. I have decided
that there is no choice involved in it. My query was intended to understand your eye, to elicit your preferences in subject”
    Marian had to look away from him, lest he perceive
that she might easily choose to paint him, which, of
course, she had no intention of doing. “You have no notion of my ability with a likeness.”
    “On the contrary,” he claimed. “I have more than a
notion. I have come to a belief.”
    She swallowed. No one, not even her father, had ever
expressed so much faith in her.
    “Then I might-I think perhaps I might wish to paint
Mrs. Knox,” she admitted.
    “Ah!” Sidley’s smile was resigned rather than pleased.
His gaze sought Viscount Vaughn. “In that you are not
unusual. Mrs. Knox is a rare beauty. But you shall have
some difficulty portraying her as she ought to be portrayed” He paused. “There were several portraits made of Jenny Lanning even before she became Mrs. Knox.
And her husband has subsequently employed every
painter of fashion-which is his style.”

    There was a bite to his tone. Marian wished she understood the reason for the previous night’s altercation.
Her aunt had not known, and now Lord Sidley seemed
disinclined to enlighten her. She could not believe he
nursed a tendre for the woman, acknowledged diamond
though she was. But something was very wrong.
    Abruptly he asked, “You will be at Aldersham next
week?”
    “As you know, my lord, I have only a brief time in
which to study. I regret that I must decline the invitation.”
    “You might paint at Aldersham almost as well as you
do in town. Perhaps better.” He smiled. “The light is infinitely clearer.”
    “Even if that’s the case, I fear I must explain to your
aunt that I cannot attend”
    “My aunt does not listen to explanations, Miss Ware,”
which attribute Marian thought might equally apply
to Lady Adeline’s nephew. But he smiled as Katie approached them. “Lady Katherine,” he said with a nod.
    “You must not keep Lord Sidley from the rest of the
company, Marian!” Katie admonished. Her brief glance
at Marian was annoyed. “You had his time yesterday
evening.”
    “So I did, Katie. My lord.” And Marian excused herself. She sought refuge at the other end of the room, but her attention inevitably returned to Katie and Lord Sidley by the window. She noted Katie’s irrepressible efforts and Sidley’s forced smile. Marian knew that Katie
would see only the smile, not the impatience behind it,
and silently counseled her cousin to let the man be. But
Katie would believe Sidley just another enchanted admirer.

    He has grown tired of this, Marian thought in sudden
sympathy, only to have his gaze flash to her own. She
fought her blush and concentrated on the conversation at
hand. Yes, she