Read Online River Of Fire by Mary Jo Putney - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Jo Putney
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the correct name Ghost or Ghostie?"
"It's actually the Gray Ghost." She stroked her palm down the cat's spine and was rewarded with a deep, rumbling purr. "He was a starving street cat who used to beg at the kitchen door. I started feeding him, but it was months before he would let himself be touched. Now he's turned into a proper house puss."
Kenneth found her care for a wild, hungry creature unexpected but endearing. Wanting to take advantage of her relaxed mood to further their relationship, he scratched the Gray Ghost between the ears. "He's a fine fellow. Well behaved, too. He slept through the invasion of the fashionables."
"He's used to such onslaughts. There are dozens who call regularly, but the three who were just here are the most frequent visitors. Father and George and Malcolm have been friends since they were students at the academy school. George is my godfather. He does the engravings of Father's pictures."
"The prints are marvelous, and they've contributed greatly to your father's fame." Kenneth stroked the cat again, his fingertips almost touching Rebecca's cheek. He wondered if the delicate skin was as flawlessly smooth as it appeared. He withdrew his hand before he was tempted to find out. "I met Lavinia earlier and thought she was a professional model. It was a surprise to learn she is Lady Claxton."
Rebecca moved to a chair and settled down with the cat still draped over her shoulder. "Did you have any trouble recognizing her with her clothes on?"
He suppressed a smile. "I did have to look twice to be sure it was the same woman."
"Lavinia was a minor actress and artist's model who married an elderly baronet. Now she's a wealthy widow who delights in being outrageous. She isn't received in the best society, but she's very popular among the artistic set." Rebecca rubbed her cheek against the cat's soft fur. In a voice that was too casual, she added, "She is Father's current mistress, I believe."
Kenneth came instantly alert. Seeing his expression, Rebecca said coolly, "Have I shocked you, Captain?"
He collected himself. "Perhaps I've been out of England for too long. When I left, it would have been considered improper for a young lady to speak of illicit affairs."
She smiled with self-mockery. "But I am not young, nor am I a lady. I've been officially ruined for years. The art world is unconventional enough to accept me, if only because I'm Sir Anthony Seaton's daughter, but I would never be allowed into a respectable drawing room."
Knowing his response would have a critical effect on how well she accepted him, he said, "Are you stronger or weaker for having been ruined?"
She looked startled by the question, then thoughtful. "Stronger, I suppose. I had not realized how much I valued my reputation until I lost it, but in some ways, I've found the situation rather liberating."
He nodded as he took his seat again. "It is not our triumphs that define us, but our failures."
Her stroking hand stilled on the cat's back as she studied his expression. "You have an interesting mind."
"I've been told that before," he said dryly. "It wasn't usually intended as a compliment."
She gave a smile that lit her face to vivid prettiness. "From me, it's a compliment, Captain." She rose, the cat twining around her neck like a scarf. "I'll see you at dinner. An unbreakable law of the house is that everyone dines together." Her gaze went to the portrait of Lady Seaton. "My mother knew that Father and I often become lost in our work, so she insisted that we behave as civilized people for one meal a day."
"You look very like her," he observed.
"Not really. We have the same coloring, but she was much taller, almost Father's height." Rebecca turned from the portrait, cradling the cat against her. "And of course Mother was beautiful."
Kenneth considered saying that Rebecca was also beautiful, but refrained because she would surely think him a flatterer. Yet as he watched the setting sun turn her hair to silky fire,
"It's actually the Gray Ghost." She stroked her palm down the cat's spine and was rewarded with a deep, rumbling purr. "He was a starving street cat who used to beg at the kitchen door. I started feeding him, but it was months before he would let himself be touched. Now he's turned into a proper house puss."
Kenneth found her care for a wild, hungry creature unexpected but endearing. Wanting to take advantage of her relaxed mood to further their relationship, he scratched the Gray Ghost between the ears. "He's a fine fellow. Well behaved, too. He slept through the invasion of the fashionables."
"He's used to such onslaughts. There are dozens who call regularly, but the three who were just here are the most frequent visitors. Father and George and Malcolm have been friends since they were students at the academy school. George is my godfather. He does the engravings of Father's pictures."
"The prints are marvelous, and they've contributed greatly to your father's fame." Kenneth stroked the cat again, his fingertips almost touching Rebecca's cheek. He wondered if the delicate skin was as flawlessly smooth as it appeared. He withdrew his hand before he was tempted to find out. "I met Lavinia earlier and thought she was a professional model. It was a surprise to learn she is Lady Claxton."
Rebecca moved to a chair and settled down with the cat still draped over her shoulder. "Did you have any trouble recognizing her with her clothes on?"
He suppressed a smile. "I did have to look twice to be sure it was the same woman."
"Lavinia was a minor actress and artist's model who married an elderly baronet. Now she's a wealthy widow who delights in being outrageous. She isn't received in the best society, but she's very popular among the artistic set." Rebecca rubbed her cheek against the cat's soft fur. In a voice that was too casual, she added, "She is Father's current mistress, I believe."
Kenneth came instantly alert. Seeing his expression, Rebecca said coolly, "Have I shocked you, Captain?"
He collected himself. "Perhaps I've been out of England for too long. When I left, it would have been considered improper for a young lady to speak of illicit affairs."
She smiled with self-mockery. "But I am not young, nor am I a lady. I've been officially ruined for years. The art world is unconventional enough to accept me, if only because I'm Sir Anthony Seaton's daughter, but I would never be allowed into a respectable drawing room."
Knowing his response would have a critical effect on how well she accepted him, he said, "Are you stronger or weaker for having been ruined?"
She looked startled by the question, then thoughtful. "Stronger, I suppose. I had not realized how much I valued my reputation until I lost it, but in some ways, I've found the situation rather liberating."
He nodded as he took his seat again. "It is not our triumphs that define us, but our failures."
Her stroking hand stilled on the cat's back as she studied his expression. "You have an interesting mind."
"I've been told that before," he said dryly. "It wasn't usually intended as a compliment."
She gave a smile that lit her face to vivid prettiness. "From me, it's a compliment, Captain." She rose, the cat twining around her neck like a scarf. "I'll see you at dinner. An unbreakable law of the house is that everyone dines together." Her gaze went to the portrait of Lady Seaton. "My mother knew that Father and I often become lost in our work, so she insisted that we behave as civilized people for one meal a day."
"You look very like her," he observed.
"Not really. We have the same coloring, but she was much taller, almost Father's height." Rebecca turned from the portrait, cradling the cat against her. "And of course Mother was beautiful."
Kenneth considered saying that Rebecca was also beautiful, but refrained because she would surely think him a flatterer. Yet as he watched the setting sun turn her hair to silky fire,
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