The Art of Love Read Free Page B

appeal to her. Rodney made an abrupt turn and shortly they were lined up at the foot of the avenue, the horses stamping and snorting as if they sensed their master’s plan.
    Rodney waited until the way was relatively clear then he cracked his whip and the pair shot forward. At once Tara’s hat was blown from her head, but the wind in her face was exhilarating and all she could do was laugh. Rodney skilfully steered his way around a man on a grey, then he cracked the whip again and the horses seemed to redouble their speed. Tara gasped. She hadn’t really thought it possible to go this fast. Ahead of them a horse leapt out of their way and then all too soon they were slowing down, the end of the avenue fast approaching and the horses, blowing hard, settling into a walk.
    Tara turned to Rodney. ‘That was amazing!’
    ‘You liked that, did you?’ Rodney said, failing to suppress a grin of pride which Tara found rather endearing. ‘Then if you’ll consent to what I want to ask you, I’ll take you out racing in the countryside next week.’
    Tara’s heart plummeted. In the excitement she had forgotten all about Rodney’s request, but it seemed he had not.
    ‘My hat…’ she murmured in a half-hearted attempt at distraction, but Rodney merely turned the horses and they walked back down the avenue.
    ‘The thing is, Tara,’ Rodney said, ‘as I said it’s rather delicate, intimate even… but I would very much like to have your portrait and I wondered if you would consent to be painted?’
    ‘What?’ Tara said, momentarily unable to process his request, it being so different for what she had been expecting him to say.
    Rodney turned a deep red. ‘I’m sorry, of course you won’t and it was quite ungentlemanly of me to ask. Please forget it.’
    ‘No!’ Tara said.
    ‘No, of course not,’ the horses seemed suddenly to require all of Rodney’s attention. ‘I won’t ask again.’
    ‘No, I mean yes!’ Tara said, light headed with relief and feeling a slightly hysterical laugh trying to escape. With an effort she composed herself. ‘You have paid me a great compliment and I would be delighted to sit for a portrait.’ It was quite irregular and might well herald a future declaration of his love, but right at the moment it was just one more move in the game of flirtation and flattery that was her pastime in society.
    ‘Truly?’ Rodney said, looking up, a pleased smile spreading over his handsome features.
    ‘Truly,’ Tara confirmed, and wondered if being painted would be fun.
     
    Leo returned home with several sketches of the finer details of St Paul’s and in a good mood. He would fill in the detailing on his painting and then the picture would be finished, ready for exhibition and sale. He was hard at work with his brush and palette in the fading evening light when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He was tempted for a moment to ignore it, he wasn’t expecting anyone but it was most likely that his visitor was a client. Leo was tiring of portrait work, but his reputation was growing and he was able to charge more for each portrait than the last. Soon, he promised himself, next season in fact, he would use that reputation to launch his career in landscapes. Landscapes were so much more interesting than the bland society faces he had found himself painting. He had a constant struggle balancing the portrayal of character while still ensuring that the subject was depicted with a pleasant face, particularly if she were a woman. Landscapes were so much more honest, he could show a cliff, a castle or a cathedral as he really saw it but women were another matter entirely. It went against the grain but in the early days he had reduced the noses, straightened the shoulders and enlarged the busts of several society ladies. Lady Susannah’s ingenuous comment that she had heard that he preferred to paint only the most beautiful women had its basis in truth. Beautiful women were generally more satisfied