Her Muse, Her David (Muses Book 3)

by Jane Charles

  Her uncle grunted. Anna held her breath and crossed her fingers beneath the table.

  “You were there today, you do not need to return tomorrow.”

  Disappointment stabbed in her breast. She should have known better than to be hopefully. It had taken her weeks to get him to agree to allow her to go today. “Of course, Uncle.”

  “You will help Cook clean up and then to your rooms for devotionals and prayers, yes?” He practically ordered as he got up from the table.

  “Tilly, whatever is the matter with you this evening?” Lila asked, standing to gather the plates.

  Anna had been so distracted a dinner she hadn’t even realized there was anything wrong with Tilly. She really must be more attentive of her cousins, but how could she when she’d met Mr. David Thorn today?

  “Nothing is the matter with me, just…tired.”

  Anna yawned. “As am I.” The quicker she could retire, the quicker she could gaze on her sketches and add more to her collection. Certainly after today she’d be able to sketch Mr. Thorn without him sitting before her.

  “You were gone an awfully long time today,” Tilly said.

  Anna glanced away and tucked her hair behind an ear. “Yes, well…it was too beautiful to come inside.”

  “Mm-hm…” Tilly shot a meaningful look at Lila.

  “It was indeed a lovely day,” Lila agreed as she disappeared to the kitchen.

  Anna was just about to lift a stack of dirty dishes when there was a quiet knock at the door. She and Tilly jerked in that direction. Why would someone be at this door and not the front?

  “Whoever could that be?” Tilly asked.

  Lila rushed into the room. “Was that the door?”

  “Indeed,” Anna confirmed.

  “I don’t hear Father coming,” Tilly said. “Should we answer it ourselves?”

  “Of course not!” Lila brought her hand to her chest. “It could be anyone on the other side.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Anna claimed.

  “Well, I’m not afraid, either,” Lila insisted. “I just don’t think three young ladies should be opening the door to strangers after dark.”

  Tilly ignored them and went to the door. When she didn’t come right back, Anna followed Lila to the door. Tilly was slumped against it, holding a missive to her breast.

  “Tilly?” Lila asked.

  “What is going on down there?” Uncle Walter yelled and Anna practically jumped from being startled. .

  “Nothing, Father,” Tilly called up. “All is well.”

  “Then I expect all of you will be on your way to bed immediately.”

  “Of course, Father,” Lila called even though she continued to watch her sister.

  “Goodnight, Uncle!” Anna added before the three of them returned to the dining room and finished cleaning up from dinner.

  Who had sent a letter to Tilly? Especially this time of night and why was she being so secretive?

  Curiosity ate at Anna and after she climbed the stairs, she followed the sisters in to their bedchamber instead of going to her own.

  “Who was it?” Lila demanded as soon as she shut the door behind her.

  “Who was what?” Tilly returned innocently.

  “Do not play games with us,” Anna said. “We know someone was at the door, not only because we heard his voice, but also because of the strange way you’re acting. Now…out with it.”

  “It’s not any of your business. The caller was for me, and that is all you need know.”

  Lila and Anna exchanged curious glances, then looked back to Tilly.

  “What?” Tilly asked, backing into the dresser. “Do you plan to attack me to find the evidence?”

  Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had a secret rendezvous today, Anna thought. And, she would like to tell her cousins about Mr. Thorn. “No, of course not,” she said. “But I suspect we all have a little something to share, so why not be honest with one another?”

  Tilly studied Anna before finally saying, “Fine,” she finally said. “But you first.”

  Anna looked from to Lila and then Tilly. “All right. If I must. Wait here.”

  Anna hurried to her room and grabbed the sketchbook from its hiding place and returned to her cousins. She took a deep breath and then sat on their bed. Either they would support her wholeheartedly, or be as scandalized as Mr. Thorn. Of course, he had no way of knowing what she’d sketched, their conversation was bad enough. And, she as a fool to think that if she saw him again tomorrow she could repair the damage of today. “Here,” she said, handing the book to her cousins, her face becoming feverish.

  Tilly grabbed the book, and promptly opened to the first page. That was the first one she sketched of Mr. Thorn at last year’s masquerade. “Go to the last page.” She might as well get the shock over with.

  Tilly’s mouth dropped open. “Anna, this is positively scandalous.”

  “Father will lock you away forever if he finds this,” Lila added.

  Anna snatched the book back. “Which is why he never will.”

  “But who is he?” Tilly asked.

  “And why was he only partially clothed, Anna?”

  “He was fully clothed,” Anna replied. “Well, mostly.”

  “Explain mostly,” Tilly asked slowly.

  “He’d fallen into the sea. He only removed his jacket and waistcoat so they could dry.”

  “Then where is his shirt? There is clearly no shirt,” Tilly said.

  “His shirt was wet, and a bit revealing, so, I…” Anna’s face began to burn again.

  “Drew what you could see?” Tilly asked.

  “Well, you shouldn’t have seen these either.” Anna clutched the book to her chest. Maybe she shouldn’t have shown them. “And please, don’t tell your father.”

  “Oh, this is the last thing we’d ever show Papa,” Lila assured her.

  “Do you think me horribly wicked?”

  “Of course, not.” Tilly smiled. “I think it’s rather grand and bold.”

  “And could see her ruined,” Lila pointed out.

  “Which is why we will never say a word.”

  She’s told them enough. Well, she hasn’t really told them much of anything, and she wasn’t about to. “Enough about me.” She set her sketchbook aside. “What was in that letter, Tilly?”

  Tilly’s face turned as red as Anna’s felt just a few moments ago.

  “Erm…well…I may have dropped my diary earlier this evening. Ahem. And someone may have…found it.”

  “So they were writing to tell you they’d found your diary? That’s not so scandalous, Tilly. As a matter of fact, it’s rather a boring secret, considering what I’ve just shown you.”

  “I’m guessing it’s who found the diary that is of import. Mr. Garrick, perhaps?” Lila questioned.

  And in the blink of an eye Tilly was telling them how Mr. Garrick had come upon her while she was out with her diary, and that she was so distracted by him and in a hurry to get home that she’d completely left her diary behind. He had found it and had asked her to come to Marisdùn the next day to retrieve it.

  “Oh, how romantic!” Anna giggled.

  “Yes, indeed,” Lila agreed.

  At that moment the door to the bedchamber flew open. Uncle Walter stood there, in his night clothing, scowling. In one motion he lifted his arm and pointed down the corridor. She grabbed her sketchbook, bid them goodnight and quietly scurried to her room.

  Chapter 8

  Quent may have taken most of the items from the secret room last night, but David had retained a few for himself. The first item, a leather, nearly flat pouch he found buried beneath several silk stockings, a decorative fan and a parasol. Inside, twelve of the finest paint brushes he’d ever seen. The bristles were made of premium sable, a costly set, indeed. The only reason he knew anything about brushes was because of his cousin, who liked to dabble in watercolor and he’d purchased a few brushes for her on her fifteenth birthday.

  Tho
ugh it was not appropriate to give a woman a gift, especially one he barely knew, Thorn considered it to be a shame to just let them stay there, or be tossed out, when Miss Southward would certainly appreciate the quality and had a need for them. Perhaps she’d use them to paint him another picture. Or, finish the one she began yesterday.

  He’d been quite taken with the painting of the sunrise across the water, and the mixture of colors, blended in bringing the scene to life. It might not be finished, but he intended to hang it in his chambers once he returned home, regardless. It was painted by her hand and the moment he saw it, he knew he must have it.

  What was he thinking? If he hung the picture at home, he’d never get her out of his mind. Yet, he couldn’t part with it either. Yesterday was most enjoyable and he’d had every intention of pursuing her further to see if they would suit… until she announced that she wished for a model to sculpt.

  The sculpting wasn’t what shocked him. If she wanted to create her own David, nudity would be necessary, and that shocked him. Genteel young ladies did not do such things and if he was serious about setting his life in order, and finding a respectable female, it could not be Miss Southward.

  Pity though. Had she made the statement last year, he would have gladly taken her to a private room, provided the clay and removed all of his clothing. Much had changed in the past year, however, even if his friends didn’t even realize it. Chetwey was the only person he’d confessed anything to and he didn’t tell him very much.

  None of them knew that this was his goodbye to a rakish life and that come spring he would be all that was respectable so that he could find the perfect wife.

  And, become as boring as his father, who was quite content to wander around the estate, read his books and sit with his cronies when in London.

  David quickly dismissed that thought and wished he could dismiss his obsession with Miss Southward as well. But, she was lovely. No, she was beautiful with her golden hair, green eyes, and a body that was lush and curved in all the places it was supposed to be. The two times he had his hands on her waist to help her up and down from the wall had been all he needed to know of her softness, and he’d desperately wished he could grasp her to him.

  Thankfully, he restrained the urge to kiss her.

  Yet, as much as he wished to avoid her, for his own sanity, he did want her to have these brushes.

  David closed the case and slid it under a blanket at the knock at the door. A moment later, it opened and in stepped Garrick. “Care to join me in a drink downstairs?”

  It was a bit early to be drinking, but Garrick did seem a bit anxious. “Is anything on your mind?”

  “No.” He answered quickly and stepped into the room, stopping at a table. “I’d have thought you of all people, would be the last to possess a chastity belt.” Garrick laughed as he picked up the evil device designed to maim a man in the most personal way possible.

  “It’s a curiosity, that’s all.”

  “Nightmare would be more like it.” Garrick grimaced and set it back down. “Why isn’t it included in the artifacts Quent intends to deliver to the British Museum?”

  “It’s not a relic.” It had surprised David when he made a closer study of the item. If he were to make a wager, he’d bet the thing couldn’t be more than five years old, if that, given the fine state of the polished metal, sharp pointed teeth and all.

  “I’m sure that many a father have threatened fitting their daughters with such a devise when you are in the area, but they aren’t truly a practice.”

  “Take a closer look,” Thorn insisted. “Do you recognize the scrollwork along the edges?”

  Garrick frowned but he picked it up once again, peering down for a moment before his eyebrows shot up. “This was fashioned by Haskins?” The man was known for some of the finest metal works in London.

  Garrick put the offending object back on the table again. “I do hope this is not going to become fashionable.” He glanced down at the sharp points. “A most unpleasant surprise to any gentlemen.”

  “Unpleasant indeed,” Thorn chuckled. “Vicar Smetters was quite adamant of fitting all young maidens with one not long ago.”

  “Vicar Smetters?” Garrick looked at him with a mixture of confusion and distress. “Who is he?”

  “The vicar in my uncle’s parish,” Thorn laughed. “When I visited a few summers back, he called a meeting of all fathers and gentlemen, and suggested that the best way to combat the low morals of society and ensure that their sweet, innocent daughters were not taken advantage of, was to fit each of them before going off to London.” He couldn’t help but smile. “And, he looked directly at me when he said that there are certain gentlemen who cannot be trusted and that every devices available should be used to discourage fornication.”

  Garrick burst out laughing. “The old man was probably afraid lightning would strike his church the moment you walked in.”

  “Undoubtedly,” David said dryly as he walked across the room and picked up the belt. “My only question is, where did this come from?”

  Garrick could only shrug.

  “From what I’ve gathered, there had been few visitors, if any, to Marisdùn until the masquerade last year.”

  “Are you saying it was worn by a guest of Braden’s and Quent’s?”

  Thorn could only shrug. “It’s the only possible explanation.”

  “I wonder who was wearing it.” Garrick asked.

  “A better question, my friend. Who succeeded in its removal?” Thorn grinned.

  “Ah, there you are, Mr. Garrick.” Bendle stood in the doorway of Thorn’s room,

  “Bendle,” Garrick said.

  “A visitor for you, sir. I put her in the main salon.”

  “Her?” Thorn teased. “Perhaps I should join you, Garrick.”

  “Perhaps you should try on that chastity belt,” he retorted.

  Thorn laughed Garrick strode from the room.

  * * *

  Anna didn’t get a wink of sleep the entire night. How could she be so forward? What must Mr. David Thorn think of her?

  Oh, it had been ill-advised to even remain on the beach with him without a chaperone, and then to blurt out her deepest desires of sculpting the male form.

  He must think her terribly wicked. And all she could think about was wanting him to remove his shirt so that she could study his body, commit it to memory so that she might replicate it in clay one day.

  “Is there not something you should be doing?” her Uncle Walter barked, coming into this sitting room where she’d been pacing.

  Anna nearly jumped at his voice, so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him approach. “Is there something you need?”

  “For you to find something to do that doesn’t disturb me.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought I was being quiet.”

  “Hardly! Muttering under your breath, going from room to room, not able to sit down. I cannot work on my sermon with you flitting about this way and I have to get some work done before heading into town for the Dorcas Society.” He paused to look around the room. “Where are my daughters, by the way?”

  “Lila has gone to visit Callie at Braewood, I believe.”

  “That husband of hers is back too, I assume.”

  Uncle Walter did not like Lord Bradenham, his brother, or any of their friends, and hadn’t since the moment they arrived last year. “Um, yes.”

  “And Matilda, where is she?”

  “She’s gone to visit the Pulmire sisters.”

  “Two days in a row?”

  Anna simply shrugged. She couldn’t explain it either. Lily and Tilly had visited yesterday and both dreaded the days they were required to call upon them. Though Anna didn’t know for certain, she suspected Tilly wasn’t with the Pulmire sisters at all, but visiting with a certain gentleman who had her diary. Not that she’d tell her uncle of course.

  “Isn’t there someone you can visit?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say Brighid
, but she knew better. Her uncle strongly disapproved of her dearest friend. It had been her intention to visit Brighid earlier, but Anna was afraid Mr. Thorn might still be there, visiting Mr. Chetwey, and he was the last person she could see right now. Plus, the path took her by the castle and she feared seeing him there, if he wasn’t at Torrington.

  As much as she wished to gaze upon Mr. Thorn once again, she was still too humiliated by her actions and conversation of yesterday to come face to face with him just yet. She would eventually, of course. She only prayed she wouldn’t die from mortification when that time came.

  “Well, is there no one in this town you can visit so I can get some peace and quiet?”

  “I’ll see if Cook needs something from the market,” Anna answered before bolting from the room. It really didn’t matter where she went as long as she was gone. At least as far as Uncle Walter was concerned. And she didn’t want to be around him any more than necessary.

  “Cook, is there anything I can get for you? I’d be happy to do any shopping you might need,” Anna said upon entering the kitchen.

  “That’s kind of you, Miss Anna, but I went to the market this morning.”

  Blast! Now what was she to do?

  She could always sketch something, she supposed. Though in truth, for the first time in her life, she wasn’t at all interested. But, she had to get out of the house. Her uncle wanted her gone and she certainly didn’t want to anger him further. As quietly as she could, Anna returned to her room, stuffed her sketchpad and pencils into her satchel, and left the house.

  She wandered the fields and then forest, not finding anything of interest. After viewing Mr. Thorn in his wet shirt, how could a bird possibly hold her interest any longer?

  There were the gardens at Marisdùn, but she didn’t dare go there and risk an encounter with Mr. Thorn.

  What she needed was a visit with Brighid. Her friend always had the best advice. She just hoped Mr. Thorn was no longer there.

  With that thought in mind, Anna stepped outside and began her trek across the fields to avoid the road. She held her breath as she stepped on to the road near Marisdùn Castle, All she needed was to cross the road a once she neared the walls to the castle and duck onto the wooden path leading to Torrington Abbey, which she hoped to do without encountering anyone. Especially Thorn. She’d taken only one step when a black horse came out of nowhere, nearly knocking her to the ground. Anna turned and was about to call to the rider to watch out, especially after the way Lila had been struck last year, when she realized it was riderless.