The Art of Sinning Read Free Page B

America as competently as any man, which doesn’t exactly endear her to the male populace.”
    â€œYes, but does she have a tart tongue like my sister?”
    Jeremy snorted. “Despite being a little slip of a thing, she cows fellows twice her size.”
    â€œBut surely she can’t be as suspicious of men as Yvette.”
    â€œOnly of every chap she meets. And though Amanda is quite pretty, she has a horrible sense of fashion. At least your sister knows how to dress well.”
    â€œWhen she chooses. You should see her wearing her most ragged gown and her permanently ink-stained gloves, poring over dog-eared manuscripts with a pencil behind one ear. Half the time, that damned pencil looses her hair from its pins to fall down about her shoulders.”
    Jeremy would love to see Lady Yvette with her hair down. Not that he’d mention that to her brother. “That can’t compare to Amanda at the mills. She wears trousers beneath her skirts. Says they’re necessary to her modesty when she has to climb the ladders.”
    â€œClimbs ladders, does she?” Blakeborough chuckled. “She and Yvette will get along famously. A pity that I need a wife willing to live in England. I’d marry her myself.” He paused. “Does your sister even want to marry?”
    â€œWho knows? Though I suspect she’d like to have children.”
    Or maybe not, given the tragic deaths of Hannahand baby Theodore. That had made quite an impression on Amanda in her youth.
    Shoving that painful memory to the back of his mind, he took a puff on his cigar. “But whether Amanda wants a husband or not, I’m selfish enough to want her to have one. Then she might stop plaguing me to return home and help her run the confounded mills. She could get her spouse to help her instead.”
    Blakeborough laughed. “You should coax her to come here to gain a husband. I can think of any number of younger sons with fine educations, good characters, and sterling connections who have no chance of making something of themselves while their families limit them to the few opportunities that are open to respectable gentlemen in the clergy, law, or the military. They would welcome the chance to start anew somewhere abroad.”
    Jeremy gaped at him. “What a brilliant idea! She’s actually on her way here and should arrive within the month with my mother in tow. If you’d be willing to introduce her to decent gentlemen who might not mind moving to the countryside of Pennsylvania—”
    â€œI’d be perfectly willing . . . as long as you are willing to paint my sister’s portrait.” The earl cast him a calculating stare. “What do you say? Is that a trade you would consider?”
    Hmm. Much as he hated doing portraits, he hated even more the idea of arguing with Amanda continually about his refusal to return home. Maybe if he could gain her a husband, he’d finally get some peace.
    He glanced back into the ballroom. And who was to say that in the course of meeting his obligation, he couldn’t also convince Lady Yvette to model for the other work that had seized his imagination so thoroughly? He had a knack for charming women. Especially ones he wanted to paint.
    â€œAll right.” He thrust out his hand. “It’s a trade.”
    Blakeborough brightened as he shook it vigorously. “You won’t regret it, I swear. We’ll get our sisters married off yet.”
    And Jeremy would get his masterpiece at last.

Two
    Lady Yvette Barlow had just left the retiring room, headed for the ballroom, when she practically knocked over the bride.
    â€œYvette!” Jane cried. “You came!”
    â€œOf course I came.” Yvette kissed her friend on the cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m so very happy for you.” She meant that most sincerely.
    Her friend’s pleasure shifted to embarrassment. “I know you