A Lady of Talent Read Free

illustrious company?”
    “No,but...”
    Knowing he had caught her attention, Sebastian continued persuasively, “In fact, now that I consider it, you do bear a remarkable resemblance to Lady Cowper though your complexion is far more delicate and your figure far more elegant—both of which will be portrayed to their utmost advantage by Manners, who seems to have a knack for capturing the very essence of his subjects.
    “Besides, if one aspires to a premier position in the ton, it is always better to set a trend than to follow one. Everyone commissions a portrait by Lawrence; Manners, on the other hand, is still being discovered. You will have your chance to make him all the rage, which will only redound to your credit.”
    Sebastian knew the weakness of his wife-to-be. At the mention of Almack’s most celebrated patronesses, the stubborn look vanished, and as he pointed out the possibility of setting a fashion, the sparkle returned to Barbara’s eyes and the smile to her lips. “If you agree, I shall call on Emily Cowper and find out C. A. Manners’s direction from her.”
    That settled it. Sebastian’s obvious familiarity with one of the beau monde’s fashionable arbiters made the choice unarguable, and the very thought of having something in common with Lady Cowper was irresistible. “Very well, then.” Barbara relented.
    “Never mind, Puss,” her father interjected. “A woman as beautiful as my daughter—and a countess, besides—cannot have too many portraits painted of her. When you are married, my dear, I shall ask Sir Thomas to paint you in your court dress, and you will see your portrait hold pride of place in the Academy’s exhibition.”
    Completely satisfied, Barbara thanked her fiancé very prettily and Sebastian, having finished his business in Russell Square, picked up his hat and gloves and prepared to take his leave after promising to escort his betrothed to C. A. Manners’s studio once he had learned its direction. “And I feel certain that once he has seen you, Mr. Manners will drop all his commissions to paint the most beautiful woman in London.” Sebastian bowed low over his fiancée’s hand.
    Accepting her due, Barbara smiled graciously.
    Another bow, and Sebastian was off to the City, making a mental note to call on Lady Cowper.
     

Chapter Two
     
    Unaware of the impending honor about to be bestowed on a relatively unknown artist, C. A. Manners, clad in a paint-daubed smock, was frowning thoughtfully at a half-finished portrait that held pride of place in the artist’s Golden Square studio.
    “Something about the jaw is not quite right,” she muttered thoughtfully, tilting her head to scrutinize the image from another angle.
    “I fail to understand why you are wasting your time agonizing over infinitesimal details,” a voice spoke from a sofa that was nearly obscured by the blank canvases leaning against it.
    “Oh do give over, Neville,” Cecilia turned to regard her brother with an exasperated sigh.
    Neville Manners, the eighth Marquess of Shelburne, who was draped along the sofa, his long legs dangling over one end, as he leisurely scanned The Sporting Magazine, looked up from his reading. “I shall not give over as long as you remain so ridiculously obstinate. It is bad enough that you insist upon painting portraits at all, but to waste your time on a brewer? It is not at all the thing.”
    “Sir Jasper is a very wealthy brewer. And he is paying most handsomely for the privilege of being immortalized by me. Furthermore, he has a wife and several daughters whose portraits would add considerable charm to the sumptuous furnishings in either his mansion in Hanover Square or his elegant villa at Richmond. What you consistently fail to realize, Neville, is that these pictures you sneer at pay for the coats you purchase from Weston and boots from Hoby—not to mention snuffboxes from Fribourg and Treyer and cravats by the score, in addition to all the numerous household