Nicole Jordan (24 page)

“Kitty is succeeding admirably thus far,” the madam agreed. “Her orders are to keep Kneighly so occupied, he won’t have a free moment to pursue your cousin. Or the desire, either. And I was happy to help.”

“You would be doing me another enormous favor if you would agree to sit for me,” Diana continued. “As I said in my letter, the academy is considering me for admission, but they are still wavering because of my sex. A new work could sway their opinion. And if I am privileged enough to be accepted before your portrait is finished, I will have a new painting to enter in their spring exhibition. They hold it in the spring, so as not to compete directly with the Royal Academy’s summer exhibition.”

Venus pursed her lips, apparently unpersuaded. “I find it hard to believe I could make any difference to the Academy’s decision, Miss Sheridan.”

“I have little doubt you would. A woman of your extraordinary features and form will hold great appeal with the judges. And I promise to do you justice. I am quite a good artist, actually. I can show you some of my paintings if you wish, so you can judge my skill for yourself.”

Diana pretended to study her visitor’s features with a dispassionate eye. “I would like to paint you in a classical style, perhaps as an allegorical figure. The Greek goddess Aphrodite would be my first instinct. Your name, Venus, is the Roman equivalent, I’m sure you are aware.”

A hint of mocking amusement played on Venus’s sensual mouth. The first hint of real emotion she had shown since her arrival. “Oh, yes. The goddess of Love and Beauty. She beguiled all she saw, gods and men alike, and stole away the wits of even the wise.”

“Exactly,” Diana agreed, not adding that Aphrodite was said to have a dark, malicious side as she conquered with her wiles, exerting a deadly and destructive power over her victims.

Wondering if Venus bore the same treacherous traits, Diana found herself thinking sadly of Nathaniel. But then she gave herself a fierce mental shake. Thorne had warned her to remain on her guard with Venus at all times. She had to follow the script that she and Thorne had worked out, and to improvise if need be.

“Of course I will pay you generously for your time,” she added. “And when the portrait has served its purpose, you may keep it.”

“I think that is a fair enough bargain.”

“Then you will sit for me?”

“How much time will it require?” Venus asked. “I have a business to run, you understand.”

“Five or six sittings of several hours each, to be held over the course of a week or two, or longer if you prefer. I must have time for the paint to dry after each session. I will need two or three hours for the first sitting, to make preliminary sketches in oils so I can determine the right composition and colors and so forth. I am prepared to start whenever you are ready.”

“I have the time now, Miss Sheridan. Since I have come all this way, I would like to make good use of the morning.”

Relief filled Diana upon clearing the most significant hurdle—securing Venus’s agreement to pose for her. She smiled warmly. “Of course. I’m certain you must be extremely busy. My studio is upstairs. If you will accompany me, we can begin at once. What kind of refreshment do you prefer? Coffee, chocolate, wine? I like to make my models comfortable,” Diana added truthfully when Venus looked surprised.

“I am partial to chocolate. And some biscuits, if you have any. I have not breakfasted.”

“I will have them brought up straight away.”

Rising, Diana pulled the bell cord for her housekeeper and ordered a tray sent up to her studio. Then she led her guest from the parlor.

She came to an abrupt halt, however, when to her startlement, she encountered a very large, hulking figure of a man in the small entrance hall.

“My footman, Birkin,” Venus explained. “He usually accompanies me whenever I go out.”

Diana smiled to cover her discomposure. “He may wait in the kitchen if he likes, where he will be more comfortable. Doubtless my cook has baked plenty of ginger biscuits.”

Birkin’s scowling face lit up at the mention of the sweets. Venus, with a regal nod of her head at the servant, said he could be excused once he told her coachman to return for her in three hours.

Diana preceded Venus up the stairs then and gave her a brief tour of the studio. She could tell by the madam’s reaction that Venus was impressed with her work.

“You were not exaggerating, I see,” Venus announced with a degree of surprise that both amused and pleased Diana.

She already had everything in order for the session. Earlier her own footman had moved the chaise longue from the sitting area to one side of the studio, so that it faced the north windows. She was certain now that the pose she had in mind for Venus would work: the goddess Aphrodite reclining on the chaise, classically draped in gauzy Grecian robes, surrounded by a few appropriate props.

Diana told Venus what she wanted and then asked if she would mind taking down her hair. “In the portrait I will give you a proper classical hairstyle with a wreath of laurel leaves, but seeing it down will give me a better idea of the effect I should strive for.”

When the madam had no objections, Diana indicated the cheval glass and dressing table in one corner where she could arrange her hair, and the high screen where she could change into the costume.

Diana herself made ready to begin painting. She had already prepared a canvas and set up an easel and arranged her special cabinet designed with drawers for vials and brushes and bladders of paint. Now she made up her palette with the different pigments she would use for the first stage of the portrait.

When they were both ready, she settled Venus on the chaise and experimented with slightly different poses.

“Your hair is amazingly lovely,” Diana said as she curled one long tress over the madam’s breast.

“It is my pride, I admit. The color is natural,” she said a bit defiantly.

“I could tell. Henna couldn’t possibly achieve that rich, deep fire.”

Venus looked pleased by the compliment and readily obeyed the requests to shift the position of her legs and arms and head. As soon as the refreshments arrived, Diana left her model to enjoy the hot chocolate and biscuits, while she went to work roughing in the outline of a full-length portrait, sketching in silence for a short while. Then she posed Venus again and returned to her easel, chatting politely about innocuous subjects such as London’s dreary weather and the best shops on Bond Street. Thorne had coached her on what topics to discuss, but she first needed to establish a rapport with her client before she could attempt any more intimate queries.

The next time Venus addressed her as Miss Sheridan, Diana responded with a smile. “I would be pleased if you would call me Diana.”

“And I am Venus.”

Venus was not the madam’s real name, Thorne had told her. Diana was to try to discover that, as well as any other information about the woman’s murky past.

Turning her attention to the large canvas, she painted in the dark areas with burnt umber, using a beeswax medium to thin the pigment. Then she switched brushes and began the light areas of the flesh using a gray tone made of black, ivory, and white. After another quarter of an hour, Diana steered the conversation back to more personal matters.

“I can’t begin to express my appreciation for your help with Amy. Since Nathaniel died, raising her has been chiefly my responsibility.” Diana casually glanced up from the canvas. “Did you know my cousin Nathaniel?”

Venus’s expression remained enigmatic. “We were briefly acquainted.”

“He was like a brother to me, and I miss him dreadfully.”

When that leading remark elicited no further comment from Venus, Diana changed tacks. “I suppose you know Thorne quite well.”

The madam raised an eyebrow, studying Diana for a moment. “I have known Lord Thorne for a number of years,” she finally said, “but we have never been intimate, if that will put your mind at ease.”

Diana felt herself flushing. She had feared just the opposite. “I admit that does relieve me. It would be foolish to be jealous of his former…lovers, but I cannot help myself sometimes.”

There was a hint of wistfulness in her tone that Venus must have heard. “I don’t think you need worry. You succeeded in doing what no other woman has ever done—gain his offer of marriage.”

A false offer,
Diana thought wryly.

When she didn’t reply, Venus continued. “To be truthful, I was glad for the chance to meet Lord Thorne’s betrothed. He has proved so elusive, I never thought any lady could persuade him to give up his bachelorhood. He once vowed that no woman could tame him, and I couldn’t imagine him ever reneging on that vow.”

Diana smiled at that. “I suspect he was right. I certainly wouldn’t want to try to tame him.”

“Perhaps that is the basis for your appeal.”

“My appeal?”

“I can see why he is attracted to you. You would be highly intriguing to a man like Thorne.”

Extremely curious, Diana stopped painting. “Why would you think so?”

“Because you are quite different from the usual women who pursue him. Your interest in art, for one thing. And you have a special quality that is lacking in so many others, both in your maturity and beauty.”

Diana’s eyes widened. “Coming from you, Venus, I consider that quite a compliment.”

She wasn’t exaggerating, either. She felt dowdy and plain compared with the compelling madam. She couldn’t possibly compete with a woman of that stamp. Men through the years had sold their souls for the favors of courtesans like this one, Diana reflected with a pang of dejection.

She fell silent for a time and began the next steps of the portrait—the white of the robes, the shadow areas, restating the facial features, and painting in the hair. All the while she racked her brain for another topic of conversation that could lead Venus to feel more at ease.

Finally she hit on one.

“I wonder if perhaps…that is…Thorne has quite a rakish reputation. Of course he professes to love me. And for the moment, he vows he has no interest in any other woman—”

“But you are worried he might stray from the marriage bed,” Venus said frankly.

It wasn’t difficult for Diana to pretend embarrassment. “Gentlemen have been known to take mistresses once they are wed. I wish I knew how to prevent it. But I am out of my league when dealing with a man like Thorne. I wondered if perhaps…Do you think you could advise me about the secrets of holding a man’s interest after marriage?”

The amusement in Venus’s green eyes was genuine this time. “I should be happy to. Lord Thorne has a reputation as a marvelous lover, which will no doubt be a disadvantage. Such men become easily bored. But I can teach you a trick or two to keep him satisfied. After marriage—and before, as well, if you wish.”

It was a probing remark, Diana realized, perhaps designed to discover how far her relationship with Thorne had already gone.

Feeling her cheeks turn warm, she ducked her head, as if too shy to respond. “
After
will be good enough.”

She had no intention of admitting she now had firsthand knowledge that Thorne was a marvelous lover or that she was still very inexperienced.

Thorne would be happy to oblige her curiosity, Diana knew, if she asked him to take their physical relationship to greater intimacy while still maintaining her virginity. It was even possible that she could indulge in a discreet affair with him….

That delicious, scandalous thought sent a flood of regret spearing through Diana. She didn’t dare allow herself to become so licentious. She had Amy to consider. And her artistic career. And now Venus.

Shaking herself, she returned to her painting.

After a while, Diana stepped back from the canvas. “There, we should take an intermission. I’m certain you would like to stretch, and I will order another pot of chocolate. It shouldn’t take much longer this morning, perhaps an hour or so. And I would be pleased if you could stay for luncheon.”

“Thank you, but no. I must watch my figure, you see.” Her tone was ironic when she added, “Gentlemen relish curves, but too much plumpness can be a detriment to my business.”

They retreated to the sitting area near the fire, and once the chocolate arrived, Diana began to tell Venus how she had become an artist, purposely including a few comments about her childhood and the devastation of losing her parents at so young an age. Thorne had said Venus was an orphan, and to try to make Venus talk about her own childhood.

Venus showed only a polite interest in the path of Diana’s art career, but when she mentioned her grief at her parents’ death, the dark emotions that flickered across the madam’s expression were unmistakable. Diana at least was satisfied that she’d planted the seed for further conversation.

When they returned to work, she began the highlights on the face and robes and rendering the arms and hands more fully. Later, once Venus was gone, she would finish today’s session by painting the dark shadows of the robe, adding a preliminary background, and finally refining the features of the face to be ready for the next stage.

Venus’s next remark caught her off guard, however. “Have you visited the Isle of Cyrene yet?”

For a moment Diana debated what to reply. She and Thorne hadn’t discussed the possibility of this topic being introduced. But she decided she would do best by sticking with the truth.

“I visited Thorne there just recently. Actually, I took Amy to get her away from her suitor.”

“I have heard it is very lovely,” Venus mused aloud.

“It is. Unlike anywhere I’ve ever been.”

She told Venus some of her impressions of the island, of its golden beauty and enchanting aura.

Venus apparently already knew of the mythical legend regarding the island’s creation by Apollo, and of the isle’s reputed ability to seduce the senses of mere mortals, but she seemed less interested in the past than the present.

“What do you know of Sir Gawain Olwen? Did you meet him?”

“Briefly,” Diana replied. “He seemed a charming, chivalrous gentleman.” She looked up from the canvas at Venus. “Are you acquainted with Sir Gawain?”