“To make that sound like a compliment to my sketch,” she lowered her voice to a furtive whisper, “but not to Hermione.”
She feared Sebastian might be offended by her impertinence, but instead a gush of hearty laughter burst from his lips. “That refreshing honesty again.”
His laughter muted to a mellow chuckle. “Perhaps that is the unique quality you bring to your sketching. Too many fashionable portrait painters work so hard to flatter their subjects that they lose any sense of life and truth. I have never been satisfied with any portrait of me. Though, I daresay they are all a good deal better looking than their subject.”
“I cannot imagine that.” Rebecca’s gaze traced the contours of his features as if committing a sketch of him to her memory.
When she reached his eyes, she gave a guilty start, fearing what he would make of her blatant admiration. But he seemed not to notice.
“Would you be willing to make a sketch of me?” he asked.
Much as she would welcome the opportunity to stare at him to her heart’s content, Rebecca replied in a murmur not meant to reach the ears of Hermione and Mr. Stanhope. “Confess, what you truly want is an excuse to spend time with me so you can expound all your arguments against your brother’s engagement.”
He seemed about to deny it then perhaps sensed that she would accept nothing less than the unvarnished truth.
“Perhaps I am looking for an excuse.” Sebastian gave a rueful shrug. “But I would like to have at least one portrait of myself, to pass down to future generations of Stanhopes, that honestly shows the kind of man I am. Please say you will accept my commission.”
Her deeply ingrained discretion warned Rebecca she should politely refuse. Her liking for Sebastian was growing dangerously deep even though she knew there was no hope of him returning her feelings. And she could not afford to risk the least suspicion of impropriety or it might ruin her chances of finding a good position in the future.
But how could she deny his request when he fixed her with that beseeching gaze? Besides, if she obliged him, it might put Sebastian in a more receptive mood to hear her arguments in Hermione’s favor.
“Very well, then, if you’re so set on it.” She picked up her sketching pencil and pointed toward the chair Hermione had vacated. “We can start now, if you are willing?”
“Entirely.” Sebastian seated himself then called to his brother. “See here, Claude, Miss Beaton has agreed to draw my picture. What manner of pose should I assume?” He struck one exaggerated attitude then another, making them all laugh... even Hermione.
“None at all if you want a true likeness.” Rebecca advised him. “Just sit still and talk about something that interests you. That will give your features animation.”
Claude Stanhope nodded toward the sitting room window. “I believe I see a ray of sunshine. Shall we take a turn around your garden, Hermione, so we do not disturb the artist or her sitter?”
With an eager nod, Hermione took his arm. “Try not to move about if you can help it,” she warned Sebastian, “or Miss Beaton will get vexed with you.”
Though Rebecca sensed the young pair were more interested in their privacy than her sketch of Sebastian, she waved them on their way.
Once they had gone, she took the drawing of Hermione from her easel and carefully rolled it up. Then she replaced it with a piece of fresh paper. “I was going to suggest you tell me more about your efforts to muster support for the troops. But now I think we should resume our debate.”
“My thought precisely,” Simon agreed.
Rebecca began to outline the shape of his face with careful strokes. “Tell me, then, what other objections do you have to your brother’s engagement?”
He thought for a moment, as if mentally checking his list for a persuasive argument. “Here is one you are too prudent to dispute—they have not been acquainted long enough. I sent Claude here after Christmas and now it is only May. How can they possibly have come to know each other well enough to enter into a lifelong union? How can they know their own feelings are deep and lasting enough to stay the course?”
Rebecca’s hand trembled a little, making her pencil wobble over the curve of his left ear. A week ago, she would have agreed with Sebastian wholeheartedly. But lately she’d discovered how quickly feelings for one special person could take root in the heart.
“I will concede that Hermione and your brother have not known each other long.” Rebecca’s pencil made a soft scratching sound as it moved over the paper.
Somehow Sebastian knew her sketch would depict him in a way he could appreciate. She seemed to see him more clearly than anyone else did.
“You’ll do what?” He had been so absorbed in watching her work that he’d scarcely heeded what she was saying. “Concede? Does that mean...?”
“Does it mean I will admit defeat?” Rebecca completed his sentence with the very words he’d intended to speak. “And advise Hermione to break the engagement? No, indeed. Though I have little experience of such matters, I believe it is possible for two people to quickly recognize they share a special... connection.”
Her words trailed off as she became more absorbed in her task. Sebastian wondered what she had meant by ‘little experience.’ Little did not mean none at all. Could there have been a young man in her past who’d caught her fancy? Someone she wished had proposed or whom she regretted not accepting? Though he knew it was foolish, Sebastian could not quell a spasm of envy toward the lad who might have once held Rebecca’s hand or stolen a kiss.
Unable to prevent himself from inquiring, he strove to mask the depth of his curiosity with a casual tone. “Have you ever felt that sort of connection with someone you’d only known a short while?”
Rebecca ducked behind her easel, busily adding to her sketch. “There was group of girls I met at school. We had not known each other long before I felt a strong bond of mutual sympathy. Though we are all scattered throughout the kingdom now, I still think of them frequently with great affection. We exchange letters as often as we are able, but I would dearly love to see them all again.”
The wistful note in her voice made Sebastian long to whisk her away in his carriage to visit every one of her friends. It elated him to discover she had not been alluding to a past sweetheart, and yet it saddened him too. Rebecca Beaton was meant to be cherished and cared for, not to spend her whole life moving from family to family, educating their pampered daughters until they had no further use for her services.
“Have you ever felt that sort of immediate connection?” Her question turned the tables on Sebastian. Caught in her deft ambush, he nearly blurted the truth. Fortunately, hard-won experience came to his rescue. Was Rebecca leading him on, seeking to win him over with her arts of attraction as he sought to win her with his powers of debate?