The Art of Sinning Read Free

“Rumor has it that you’re an arse.”
    â€œRumor is correct.” Jeremy took a puff of his cigar. Might as well live down to his reputation.
    The earl hesitated, then smiled. “You can’t be all bad if you carry around cigars of this caliber.”
    â€œI believe in being prepared for the rare occasion when one must wait out the excruciating boredom of wedding toasts given by people whom one barely knows.”
    â€œOr people one knows too well,” Blakeborough said morosely.
    Jeremy almost felt sorry for the chap.
    Almost. The earl was lucky not to have ended up married. Having a wife was a burden when a man was ill equipped to be a husband. “What we really need to salvage the evening is some good brandy.”
    â€œAh! Excellent idea.” Blakeborough fished around in his coat pocket. “I brought a flask.” As he offered it to Jeremy, he added ruefully, “One must also come prepared for when the wedding of one’s former fiancée becomes interminable.”
    Jeremy swigged from the flask and handed it back. “I’m surprised you came at all.”
    â€œJane and I were never really romantic. Besides, I wanted her to know there were no hard feelings.” His voice held an edge that belied his words.
    â€œAnd that your pride wasn’t damaged in the least.”
    Blakeborough smiled stiffly. “That played some small part in it, yes.”
    They smoked a moment in silence, the mutedsounds of sonorous voices barely penetrating their refuge. Then a burst of laughter made them both glance through the glass doors.
    That’s when Jeremy saw her again—his Juno, in the flesh. Thank God.
    â€œSpeaking of beautiful women,” Jeremy said to Blakeborough, “can you tell me the name of that one there in the emerald silk?”
    The fellow looked over and blanched. “Why do you want to know?”
    â€œI want to paint her.”
    The earl glared at him. “That won’t ever happen.”
    â€œWhy not?” Then the man’s curt tone registered. “Don’t tell me—you’ve fixed on her as your future countess.”
    â€œHardly. She’s my sister.”
    God rot it, that was worse. Sisters were sacrosanct.
    But Jeremy wasn’t ready to give up. The earl appreciated good cigars, which showed him to be sensible. Maybe he could be made to see reason. “Since I have a sister myself, I understand. I would strangle any unworthy fellow who went after mine. But my interest in yours is purely professional.”
    â€œForgive my candor, sir, but I’ve seen your paintings. There’s no way in hell I’d let you paint my sister as one of your hopeless lunatics or seedy whores or whatever else you’re thinking to make her.”
    Damn. Admittedly, his work had turned rather bleak of late, but only because he’d come to prefer depicting the raw drama of the real world rather than prettified history or wealthy ladies and gentlemen in fine attire.
    And his latest painting would not only be dark but violent. Not that he meant to tell the earl that. “I can always disguise her features, change her hair color—”
    â€œThat won’t work. In case you haven’t noticed, Yvette is rather distinctive in appearance.”
    Yvette. Even her name was exotic, which made him want her even more. For the painting. That’s all. “Exactly. She’s arresting, and that makes for a good image.”
    â€œYes, but to change her enough for her identity to be kept secret, you’d have to turn her into another woman entirely. So you might as well go choose another woman.”
    â€œI don’t want another woman. I want her . ”
    Blakeborough drank some brandy. “Well, you can’t have her. Between her argumentative nature and her ‘arresting’ looks, she’s had enough trouble finding suitors as it is. You paint her in one of your provocative scenes, and she’ll