The stranger who’d rescued her in the garden had become her life, her love, her everything.
The future held nothing but promise.
Epilogue
With the room painted a dark shade of red and an abundance of gilt-framed canvases littering the walls, the picture gallery was unrecognisable from the ballroom once used to entertain the dissolute members of the ton.
Matthew sat on one of the circular velvet seats positioned in the centre and stared up at the large rectangular portrait of Priscilla. He had captured her likeness to perfection, even if he did say so himself. The innocence of porcelain skin, golden hair and angelic blue eyes were counterbalanced by full sinful lips.
The red dress she wore reminded him of the night she’d first found the courage to wander downstairs with the sole objective of seducing him. While she remembered the night for that reason, in truth, she had enticed him long before. He’d just been too blind to realise.
A smile formed on his lips as his gaze lingered on the curve of her breast visible above the bodice of her gown. This painting was for public viewing. Hidden in his chamber, he had a much smaller version. One purely for personal pleasure. Of course, artists were rarely happy with their work and were forever making changes and alterations. Even after twenty or so sittings, he just couldn’t seem to master the soft swell of her breasts or flare of her hips.
“There you are.” Priscilla’s voice disturbed his reverie.
Matthew glanced up. Priscilla was attempting to navigate the stairs, but with her stomach swollen with their child, she struggled to see where to place her feet.
“Let me help you.” He jumped up and rushed to offer his assistance.
She gripped his hand and descended the five small steps. “You seemed lost in thought. Are you still finding fault with your work or were you dreaming about me?”
“Both, though it’s the portrait in my chamber that needs some adjustments.”
“Didn’t you put the finishing touches to it last week?” she said, eyeing him with some suspicion.
His gaze fell to her full breasts filling the bodice. “I fear there is a little more of you since then.”
She stroked her stomach. “Oh, Matthew. You can’t paint my portrait when I look like this.”
“Why? You look beautiful, and at the moment, you can’t seem to get enough of me.”
A blush touched her cheeks. “I have the same problem with food.”
“Well, you may devour me whenever the mood takes you.”
She arched a mischievous brow. “If we weren’t expecting guests I might find something to nibble on now.”
“Nibble? The word is hardly flattering and implies I’m lacking in that department.”
“I have never found you lacking in any department.” With a satisfied smile, she glanced around the room. “The paintings look far more impressive when displayed properly.”
“You mean instead of hiding in a dusty attic.” A sudden pang of self-doubt hit him square in the chest. “What if no one comes?”
She jerked her head back. “Of course people will come. I dealt with the invitations myself. Uncle Herbert has made it his mission to fill the room. Indeed, three people are interested in purchasing Lost in the Forest and have started a bidding war. And the Marquess of Danesfield wants to commission you to paint a portrait of his wife. He has come to town to visit Tristan’s friend, Mr Danbury.”
To have the marquess as a patron would increase the value of his work considerably.
“You know Lord Boden came to see me yesterday. He offered me a thousand pounds to paint Mr Musswell. The extortionate fee is to buy my discretion, of course.”
“A thousand pounds,” she gasped. “Can he afford such a sum? He hasn’t gambled since they found Mr Travant’s body floating in the Thames.”
“Boden said Travant owed money to a man in Seven Dials and tried to leave the country without paying. I think Boden feared a similar fate. If we worked out his signs and signals, someone else was bound to.”
Priscilla nodded. “I trust Mr Musswell is to have his clothes on when you paint his likeness.”
Matthew had not even thought to ask the question. “Should he require a more Adamesque portrayal, you’ll have to act as my chaperone. With our child on the way, I’ll not turn down the offer of a thousand pounds.”
“Well, I’ve seen enough bare behinds not to have a fear of them.”