The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (40 page)

Talk with her new
acquaintances was shallow and consisted mostly of light-hearted
banter. Her sisters ensured she had continuous dance partners, which
left her little time to chat with those who might ask the more
pertinent… or, to her mind, impertinent… questions.

“Welcome, my dear. So
you’ve finally graced us with your presence in the capital.”

“Grandma!” Tally
spun around, a huge smile on her face. In spite of qualms at what her
grandmother was capable of now that she knew her granddaughter was in
London, she was pleased to see her favorite relative. She leaned over
to place a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek and teased, “Fashionably
late, as usual.”

Her grandparent hugged
her and returned the affectionate buss. “I thought I was going to
have to go fetch you in Evesham.” Then she drew a gentleman forward
and said, “Your Grace, may I present my youngest grandchild, Miss
Talia Lawton.” Tapping her fingers lightly on his arm, Lady Lawton
continued, “Talia, this is the Duke of Merriman.”

The bushy-browed,
cheerful-looking elderly man bowed and, with soft periwinkle eyes
twinkling, said, “Pleased to meet you, Miss Lawton. I see you are
as beautiful as your grandmother.”

“Oh, Merry, you
flatterer you.” Grandma Lawton surprised Tally by blushing and
sending the older gentleman an arch look.

Flustered by his
friendly manner, Tally bobbed a curtsy. “I’m honored, your
grace.” She was torn between being amused and being amazed by this
never-before-seen side of her grandparent.

“Your grandmother has
been most anxious for you to come to London.” His bluff manner
didn’t completely disguise the sharpness of his gaze. This man
didn’t look like he missed much.

Heavens, she hoped he
didn’t come to visit with Grandma Eva! One sharp-eyed elder was
sufficient.

“I know you have
Spare matters to catch up on, Merry.” Her grandmother patted his
arm again. “I’ll find you later.”

The older couple were
clearly very comfortable with each other. “I plan on having a long
coze with my grandchild. Now that she’s finally consented to come
to London, I want to know what she intends doing here.”

“Come.” Her
grandmother drew her along, toward a quiet sofa away from the noise
of the party. “Now let me welcome you properly, dear.” She pulled
Tally into her arms for a hug.

Tears welled at the
familiar scent of yellow roses and the warm sense of being loved that
enveloped Tally. Being embraced by her grandmother like this brought
back happy childhood memories and the rare feeling of belonging she
always had with her father’s mother.

“You look beautiful
this evening, Grandma.” A lump rose in her throat. She felt mean
and small for not having contacted her dearest relative since
arriving in Town.

As if she read Tally’s
thoughts, her grandmother said, “It’s good to be selfish,
sometimes, child.”

She must have looked
bewildered because her grandparent went on to explain, “You needed
to be away from your overbearing family. I understand.” She gave
Tally such a knowing smile, she felt exposed, as if her grandmother
knew everything that had happened since she’d come to London! “But
I’m glad you’re finally here.” She tapped her fan on Tally’s
knee to ensure her full attention.

Tally stifled a grin.
As if anyone dared not listen when Grandma Lawton spoke!

“I am a little
puzzled though. Your sisters tell me you have no intention of
attending parties and ‘gadding about’, was how they put it.”
Grandma’s disgusted tone said she didn’t think much of her
granddaughters’ vocabulary.

“That’s right,”
she agreed. “I’d hate that above all.” So much for her sisters
promise not to tell Grandma Eva that she was in Town!

“Then what do you
intend to do? Why have you come to town?” There was a curious note
in her grandmother’s voice.

Was there more to the
question than appeared? “To see the sights and see what all the
fuss is about.”

“Hmmm…” The older
lady looked unconvinced. “And who is your companion in this
venture?”

Leave it to Grandma
Lawton to hone in on the weakest part of her plan. “I…er…”
Her grandmother couldn’t know Cousin Minerva hadn’t arrived yet,
could she? “I’ve made arrangements with Cousin Minerva. Since her
husband died, she wanted to return home from Canada.” Not an
outright lie. No need to explain those arrangements had fallen
through, or that she was living in a house with three men, with Mrs.
P the only other woman to be seen! Just thinking about it made her
feel a little hysterical.

She wasn’t able to
look at her grandmother when she said that. She feared her elder
relative would read the truth in her eyes. She looked around for some
distraction and, seeing Milana, said, “You know, I never realized
Milana had mother’s evil eye until this week. I thought no one else
could look that fierce.”

“Have you never
looked at yourself in the mirror, child?” Her grandmother chortled.
“Particularly when you’re annoyed?”

“Me?” Her hand flew
immediately to her eyebrow to see if it was raised without her
knowing it. She was the docile one of the bunch; she didn’t have
her mother’s evil eye! “Surely not.”

Her dearest relative
smiled lovingly at her. “I’ve been seeing it on your face since
you were a child. Whenever you were angry with your brothers for
teasing you, up your eyebrow popped.” But Grandma Lawton was no
laggard. She’d recognized Tally’s attempt at diverting the
subject and came back to her original subject. “Are you planning on
touring the art exhibits?”

“Goodness, no. Why do
that?” Well, that was vehement. No chance at all her perceptive
relative was going to notice her overreaction!

“To see your father’s
paintings, perhaps?”

Tally nervous laugh
exploded a little too loudly. Great! She was so concerned about
hiding her own art plans, she’d forgotten a daughter should want to
view her father’s works, which were displayed prominently all over
London. But it was the odd inflection in her grandmother’s tone
that made her pause. Had Aunt Ida told her twin about Tally’s
painting?

“Oh, of course. I’ll
have to visit a few of them. Not that he cares much whether I do or I
don’t.” It was impossible not to let a tinge of bitterness slip
into her voice.

“My son, as we all
know, is an egotistical ass.” Her grandmother’s disgust was
evident. “And everyone lets him get away with it!” The older
woman shook her head. Certainly she had never allowed Tally’s
father, the youngest of her three sons, to get away with much.
Grandma Lawton ran a tight ship.

Another good reason why
Tally hadn’t wanted to live with her!

“Your mother should
never have given in to him like that. She should have made him pay
more attention to you children.”

Tally didn’t have the
heart to tell her that it was only her he ignored. Because she was
the only one he believed had not inherited his talent. And, as far as
she was concerned, he’d wait a long time before she’d let him
know how wrong he was!

She suspected her
grandmother was well aware that Tally was the sole offspring who’d
been ignored. His mother might include the others in her rant, but
Tally knew her Grandma was upset at her son’s neglectful treatment
of his youngest.

“Do you want to go
visit St. Paul’s with me?” She again tried to divert the
conversation and keep it to what she might do and see in London. This
time the older woman let her get away with it. They spoke together
for quite awhile, until her grandmother said, “You’d better go
see what your sister wants, child. She’s been making frantic
motions to get your attention for the past five minutes.”

She turned in surprise
to see Venetia waving her over. “I’m being summoned.” She gave
a crooked smile as she stood and bent down to place a parting kiss on
her grandparent’s perfumed cheek. “I’ll come see you this week,
I promise, and we can have a long chat.”

And she hoped she’d
be able to keep her beloved relative at bay, because there was no way
she was ever going to tell her the truth about what was going on in
her life!

But the strong affinity
that existed between them, that had always made it impossible for her
to hide anything from Grandma Lawton, was as strong as ever. Looking
into the older lady’s beloved face, she knew her grandmother was
not going to be content to wait for that visit. She intended to be on
Tally’s doorstep the very next day or Tally was greatly mistaken.
And her Grandma wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d inspected
Tally’s living arrangements. The campaign to convince Tally to move
in with her would be launched full force.

Tally’s biggest
worry, though, was how was she ever going to keep Reed and her
grandmother apart?

“If you’ll excuse
me, I have paperwork to catch up on.” Mason nodded and went off in
the direction of his room.

“So much for sharing
a civilized nightcap before retiring,” Reed said aloud to the empty
drawing room. “What’s wrong with me, do I reek?”

But he knew why Tally’s
bodyguard had bolted out of there so quickly. Mason was annoyed.
Annoyed with Reed for coming so close to being caught peering in the
window at the party, which would have embarrassed his wife
dreadfully. The Scot was loyal to a fault.

But he was probably
even more annoyed with himself for giving in to Reed’s cajoling on
the way home. Reed wasn’t too proud to admit he’d harried the man
for information. In his opinion, a man had to do whatever he could to
recover his lost life.

“Probably afraid I’ll
coax him to divulge more secret information,” he told the empty
room, then laughed mirthlessly at his own wit.

He was feeling
thwarted. So he’d managed to prod loose one solitary piece of
information from Mason. So he’d learned that Tally probably had no
idea who he knew or didn’t know at the party. What good did that
little kernel of information do him?

And then the man had
closed up tighter than a clam, damn it all!

He drifted around the
drawing room. No one else was about. Even Foster was making himself
scarce tonight. Looked like he wasn’t going to be challenging
anyone to a chess game this evening. He might as well go up to his
room.

Once there, he changed
into his night clothes and banyan, but was still too restless to
sleep. Staying in his room when he was so wide awake was out of the
question, so he wandered around the house, eventually gravitating
upstairs to the studio. There’d be a good view of the full moon up
there tonight. And while he was there, why not see how Tally was
progressing with her portrait of him. He hadn’t had the chance to
see it again since the night he’d made the shocking discovery that
she was painting him nude.

Just thinking about it
aroused him. Ever since he’d stopped taking the night time milk
laced with laudanum, Reed had been in a near constant state of
arousal around his wife. And, while he understood her reluctance to
make love with a man who didn’t remember her, he felt that he —
the person he was now, not the one she’d wed weeks ago — had come
to really know and care for her.

The studio was much
brighter than the last time he’d come up at night. The full moon
bathed the room in a soft white glow. He almost didn’t need the
candle, but he kept it lit, nonetheless. It would help him view the
painting better.

Going to the easel, he
was surprised to see another unfinished painting in its place. A
landscape. Still good, but where was… He glanced around, expecting
to see the finished piece nearby, but there was no sign of it. He
walked around looking through the canvases leaning against the wall,
struck by her astonishing aptitude, but failing to find the one he
most wanted to see.

Damn! She wouldn’t
have sold it! Would she?

It was only after
passing the easel, for perhaps the fifth time that he noticed it was
thicker than seemed normal, too thick for one painting.

Ah… Had she…? He
leaned the landscape forward. Yes, there it was! Concealed under the
landscape. She must have been worried someone would come in and see
it. Not that he blamed her. A woman painting a man in such a state of
undress, even if he was her spouse, was considered scandalous. As far
as he was concerned, it was an innovation he heartily endorsed! He’d
be prepared to model for many such paintings for Tally!

He lifted the landscape
off the easel and set it on the floor, leaning it against the window
seat built into the recess of the large windows. He stood back to
view it. Remarkable. She’d captured him perfectly… or as he
imagined himself to be. The painting was completed, though she
appeared to be fiddling with a few finishing touches. Didn’t want
to part with it yet, he surmised. That was how he felt sometimes.

How
he
felt? Startled by that thought, he shoved his fingers through his
already unruly hair. He really did paint too! Yes. Now he was certain
of it... but at what level? Rank amateur or seasoned artist like his
wife?

Taking one last look,
he replaced his portrait behind the landscape and draped the cover
back over the two paintings on the easel. Still not tired enough to
go to bed, he sat down on the window seat. Her sketch book was on the
sill. He picked it up and began to rifle through the pages. The more
he saw, the more he was staggered by the quality of her work. Any
questions he might have had about her talent were answered in this
book. This was not the work of an amateur; she was up there among the
best he’d seen. He knew men who would give anything to have half
her ability.

Another
memory
. He held onto it for awhile, plumbing the depths of
his mind for more, but still came up empty. Nevertheless, he was
comforted by the number of memories starting to come back to him.