Alec scowled and pulled out his wallet, handing Edmund a pile of bills. “Here. Now go.”
“That won’t do.” Edmund flushed, a thoroughly miserable look on his plump face. “Not enough. Maybe you should return home and fetch some more.”
“Damn it, Edmund! What are you about?” Beside him, Alec heard Lucien give a startled exclamation. “What is it?”
Lucien didn’t answer, but stared at the next item presented for bidding. There, standing on an easel, was Bentham’s portrait of Julia.
Alec’s throat went dry.
Bentham had painted Julia reclining on a couch amidst a sea of blue silk. Muck, improbably dressed as Cupid, leaned against a footstool and stared up at her with adoring eyes. A fan partly covered her face, though there was no mistaking her green eyes or the delicate arch of her sable brows. Alec’s gaze drifted past the fan and beyond, his hands clenching into fists as he realized what had so shocked Lucien.
Bentham had painted Julia nude.
Chapter 28
Julia leaned forward and squinted at the portrait. “I thought Bentham was going to paint me.”
“It is you,” Maddie snapped, her parchment skin flushed an unbecoming red. “That scoundrel painted you in the nude.”
Squinting again, Julia could barely make out the flesh-toned figure reclined on the couch. As soon as she saw the green eyes peering over the fan, she started. “Heavens!” She glanced around at the sea of blurry faces. “Perhaps no one will notice.”
“How could a person not notice that? A few more inches and it would be life sized.” Even as Maddie spoke, people were beginning to point. “Demme. There’s nothing for it but a forward attack.”
The old woman peered through the crowd, finally focusing on the narrow-shouldered young man beside Therese. “You!” she called, thumping her cane. “What is the meaning of this?”
Bentham glanced uncertainly at Therese, then cleared his throat and said in a loud voice, “Lady Hunterston requested that I paint her in the nude. I protested, of course, but the beauty of the composition was such that I was powerless to demur.”
Julia had never heard such obvious drivel in her entire life. A fine painter Bentham might be, but as an actor, he was a dismal failure. Even Desiree, a depressing example of thespian ability, would have pronounced the lines with more finesse. Unfortunately, Bentham’s allegation was so startling Julia doubted anyone but herself noticed anything amiss. Someone other than the dreamy-eyed artist had to be behind this newest effort to cause a scandal.
Julia’s gaze narrowed on Therese. Her cousin glowed. Her perfect rosebud mouth curved in a smug grin, and she could not have appeared more pleased.
Maddie scowled. “I hope Bentham knows what he’s gotten himself into. Hunterston looks ready to split someone open.”
Alec stood not far from the dais, his face a frozen mask of anger. He stared at Bentham as if trying to decide which bone to break first. Julia stiffened her resolve at the sight. If she didn’t act soon, the whole place would erupt.
She walked up to the painting and peered closely. “A pity it doesn’t look like me.”
Bentham’s face reddened. “Of course it looks like you.”
“The face is mine, that’s true.” She looked down at her bosom where it pressed against the bronze silk, then returned her gaze to the painting’s rounded, more robust charms. “Unfortunately, the rest is less than accurate. Too bad. I always wished I were a bit more curved.”
The Dowager Duchess bent to peer at the painting. “Very true, Lady Hunterston. And you are certainly thinner than this woman.” She straightened, her brows arched high. “It appears Bentham has mistakenly placed your head on someone else’s body.”
Bentham started to protest, but a sudden move from Alec made him retreat a hasty step. Before Alec could follow, Lucien placed a restraining hand on his arm.
Lady Birlington peered over Julia’s shoulder. “Humph. Missed your feet, too. Don’t know who he painted, but they have tiny feet.” She glared around the room. “All women with big bosoms and tiny feet must step forward immediately.”
A wave of laughter arose, during which a dashing young blade called out, “By all means, Lady Birlington, let them come to me for examination.”
The tension dissipated from the room as the laughter subsided. Julia heaved a tiny sigh of relief and leaned toward the picture once again until her nose almost touched the canvas. “There’s a mole, too. Right here on her hip. I don’t have one of those. The only person I know who has a mole there is—” She halted, her color rising. She cast a swift glance at Therese. “Well.”
Had she shouted her suspicions aloud, they could not have been clearer.
Edmund stared at Therese, his eyes wide. “And she ain’t even married.” His voice carried all too clearly.
Therese paled. “It is not me. Any fool can see that it is Julia.”
Bentham took an impulsive step forward. “Lady Hunterston is—”
“Bentham!” Maddie’s voice rang out. “Do you wish me to bring this disgraceful episode to the ears of your mother?”
The young man blanched and shot a desperate glance at Therese. But she was no longer attending him, her gaze fixed on Julia.
“Well?” asked Maddie in a testy voice. “Do you or don’t you? I’m sure Lucinda would be very interested to hear of your shameful antics while she is in the country.”
“No! No, there is no need.” Bentham looked around the room, but not one friendly face turned his way. He reached an impulsive hand toward Therese, but she turned away, jerking her arm from his grasp.
Bentham stared after her, stark misery in his pale blue eyes. Hands clenched into fists, he turned to the Dowager and made a jerky bow. “Your Grace, I will take my leave of you now. I apologize for any harm my mistake has caused.”
Julia felt an instant of pity. Dreamy-eyed and weak-chinned, he’d stood no chance against Therese’s beauty.
The Dowager waved him on. “Of course, of course.” Bentham bowed and left the room, casting one last, anguished glance at Therese.
“This certainly has been interesting,” said the Dowager. She regarded the painting critically. “Perhaps I should purchase it for my drawing room, whoever it is.”
“Two hundred pounds,” Alec ground out.
Julia blinked. “But it isn’t even me!”
“Two hundred pounds,” he repeated, his glance dismissing her.
She knew it was pride that made him offer, yet she couldn’t help but be relieved. The thought of the portrait hanging in someone else’s home, a constant topic of countless dinner conversations, made her queasy.
The Dowager nodded. “Very proper, Lord Hunterston. The eyes do bear a shocking resemblance to your wife’s. I won’t even bid against you. You may have the portrait with my blessing.”
From the other side of the room came Nick’s lazy drawl. “Three hundred pounds.”
The Dowager gawked. “Goodness!”
Alec bit off a muffled curse. “Four hundred.”
Oblivious to the growing tension, the Dowager clapped. “Well done, Hunterston. I knew you loved the arts.”
Nick strolled forward, stopping to deliver a mocking bow to Julia. One of his eyes sported a deep bruise, no doubt a trophy from his argument with Alec at White’s the previous night. “Your servant, Cousin.”
Julia gave him the smallest nod possible. He might or might not have planned this debacle, but she had no doubt he was enjoying it to the fullest.
Smiling, he turned to the Dowager. “I believe Alec has discovered he loves the arts far more than he thought possible. Unfortunately for him, I share a similar affection.”
“Five hundred.” Alec glared.
Nick laughed gently. “You have just bid against yourself.”
Alec did not flinch. “Six hundred.”
A ripple of amazement spread through the crowd. Julia had never seen Alec so furiously intense. Arms crossed, feet planted apart, he gave the impression of tig
htly coiled temper ready to leap into action.
“My, my. So determined,” murmured Nick. He assessed Alec for a moment. “But I’m afraid I cannot allow such a rare and beautiful opportunity to pass.” He turned to the painting and his quizzing glass lingered an indecent time on the curve of the hips. “I must have it for my bedchamber. Eight hundred.”
Silence reigned as all eyes turned to Alec. “One thousand pounds.”
Even Julia gaped, but Alec stood impervious, his furious gaze locked with Nick’s.
The Dowager swept forward. “How generous of you to donate so freely to our charity auction, Lord Hunterston. Surely Lord Bridgeton will concede your right to own such a beautiful painting.”
Flicking an imaginary piece of lint from his cuff, Nick shrugged. “It is only a painting.”
With a gracious nod, the Dowager signaled Lord Dunston to proceed with the next item. And though people showed an annoying tendency to watch Alec and Nick, the bidding resumed once more.
Julia almost sighed her relief aloud when Nick finally lost interest in the proceedings and melted into the crowd.
The auction went on for another hour, but Julia was only aware of Alec’s brooding presence behind her. Discourse was impossible with so many people surrounding them, so Julia was thankful when the last bid was recorded.
When the musicians struck up a waltz at the Dowager’s signal, Alec held out his hand and led Julia into the dance. The instant they could speak without being overheard, he shot her a hard glance and pulled her close. “I should strangle Nick for his insolence.”
“I’m not convinced your cousin had anything to do with the portrait.”
Alec’s mouth thinned. “How can you say that? He planned the entire thing.”
“No, he took advantage of the situation. It appeared to me as if Therese had orchestrated the whole thing. I have a feeling he was just as surprised as you.”
“I am well aware of your feelings, madam.” Alec’s hand tightened on hers. “I do not care for them.”
A mortified blush ran from her ears all the way to her toes. He rejected her love so easily, without hesitation. Struggling to swallow the hurt, she tried to increase the distance between them.
His grip tightened even more and he crushed her against him, impervious to the dancers swirling about them, watching and whispering. “Are you so anxious to be rid of me, love? Perhaps you would rather be dancing with Nick?”
All of the day’s disastrous events swelled into anger. Anger with Nick and Therese for plotting against her, anger with the people who had stood by and watched her public embarrassment with avid attention, anger with Alec for mocking the one thing she had left—her love for him.
Squaring her chin, she stared at him. “At least Nick would have the good manners not to maul me on the dance floor.”
For an instant his face froze, then he abruptly ceased dancing. “If that is the way you feel, madam, then I will no longer burden you with my presence.” Without another word, he dropped her hand, turned on his heel and made his way through the ballroom.
Julia stood alone. Pitying stares and sly smiles surged past as the dancers feasted on her humiliation. How could Alec treat her so? She steeled herself not to betray any emotion as she made her way through the horde of twirling couples.
Despite her best intentions, her emotions clogged her throat and blurred her sight. Deeply weary and strung as thin as a cobweb, she had only sheer determination to hold back her tears as she struggled to the edge of the floor.
Suddenly Nick stood before her, taking her hand and bowing. “How kind of Alec, to remember you promised me this dance.” His gloved hand closed warmly over hers as his arm encircled her waist. “Shall we?”
Julia hesitated, but he persisted, murmuring, “Come, Julia. Show them you are not to be so cavalierly treated.”
She managed a jerky nod and allowed Nick to swirl her back into the pattern of the dance, her thoughts settling into a muddle of hurt and anger.
“Everyone is watching you, my dear,” Nick said. “You must smile if you wish to disappoint the curiosity seekers.”
“Why would you care? I’m surprised you are even dancing with me, especially after Alec popped your cork at White’s.”
A flash of anger tightened his features before retreating behind a polished smile. “Last night was a simple disagreement, nothing more.” His hand gently squeezed hers. “I do not hold Alec’s faults against you, my dear. I think of you as very…separate people.”
Julia had to bite her lip to keep it from quivering. “You still haven’t told me why you are helping me now, Nick. I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t trust you.”
He laughed. “Perhaps I suffer from the same quixotic impulses that plague my cousin. But it does not matter. The important thing is that you do not allow anyone to suspect you were harmed by Alec’s rudeness.”
Julia lifted her chin. “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.”
“Bravo, Cousin. That is exactly the attitude we must project. Suppose we discuss something more near and dear to your heart. Tell me, how does your urchin progress? I notice you did not bring him with you tonight.”
“He has a slight cough.” Julia relaxed slightly, thinking of Muck’s fuzzy smile as he drifted off to sleep, one of Mrs. Winston’s famous mustard plasters warming his chest.
“And the lovely Desiree?”
Julia frowned. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that. You knew she would be recognized.”
“Oh, I counted on it.” His hand tightened on hers, but he did not attempt to close the space between them. “You would be wise to cultivate my favor, Julia. Once I have the fortune, I might grant some funds for your projects.”
“Oh?’ she asked, all polite disbelief.
His mouth curved in an indolent smile. “In exchange, of course, for certain favors.”
“Don’t be too sure you are getting the fortune, Nick. Alec and I have a meeting with the executors tomorrow. Once we explain everything, they will realize none of this has been our fault.” At least, that’s what she hoped would happen. Perhaps she could convince some of the members of the Society to speak with the executors on their behalf.
Nick’s smug voice cut through her thoughts. “I fear it will do little good. Though I did not plan tonight’s entertainment, it was the final nail in a very well-built coffin.”
“Once the executors hear about your part in this, they will not allow you near the money, either.”
“Ah, but you don’t know them as I do. My grandfather became a strict, stern man in his dotage. He surrounded himself with philanthropists with no taste for life and less understanding of the misfortunes of it.” Nick shrugged. “They will be especially offended to read the newspaper article suggesting you had less than pure motives in pursuing charity work.”
“I can’t believe they would heed such drivel. I will speak with them myself and explain everything.”
“Once word of the painting reaches their ears, I would be very surprised if they allowed you to speak at all.”
Thankfully, the dance ended before Julia had to respond. Her face ached from maintaining the fake smile. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, Nick. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must find Aunt Maddie.”
His gaze went past her, a flicker of surprise crossing his face just as a hand touched her arm.
Julia turned to find Lady Burton beside her. The woman’s proud face softened slightly. “Lady Hunterston, I was hoping to catch you this evening. Lord Burton and I wanted to invite you and Lord Hunterston to visit us at Burton Park this fall when the leaves change.”
Lady Burton spoke loudly, much louder than necessary. Julia glanced about and found others marking their conversation. With a flush of gratitude, she smiled. “Lord Burton has spoken many times of the park and how beautiful it is. We would love to attend.”
“Excellent.” Lady Burton patted Julia’s hand and smiled, her gray eyes twinkling. “He’ll be pleased to hear
you will be joining us.” Nodding pleasantly, she left on the arm of her nephew.
Julia turned to look for Lady Birlington and Nick caught her arm. “Tell me, Cousin, do you have much discourse with Lord and Lady Burton?”
Surprised, Julia shook off his hand. “Some. Her husband is one of the members of the Society. I spoke with Lady Burton today for the first time, though I must say she has been excessively kind.”
A faint crease appeared between his brows. “Has she?”
Julia searched the crowd, her heart pounding every time she saw a dark head rise above the crowd, though none proved to be her recalcitrant husband.
Nick placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her to a chair. “If you are looking for Alec, he disappeared into the game room just as our waltz ended.”
“I wasn’t looking for anyone,” she said stiffly, hoping Alec had seen her dancing with his cousin. It would serve Alec right if she hung on Nick’s arm for the rest of the evening.
“Would you like some refreshment, Julia? At least allow me to make amends by procuring a glass of ratafia for your enjoyment.” He offered a rueful smile that for a moment made her think of Alec. “It is all I ask.”
Julia sighed. She supposed it would not hurt to sit another few minutes. Alec was nowhere to be seen and she had caught a glimpse of Lady Birlington deep in conversation with the Dowager. “Oh, very well. I’d prefer sherry, though.”
He bowed. “As you wish, my dear. When I return, we will toast the executors and their making the best choice possible.” With a final smile, he disappeared in the direction of the refreshment room.
Tonight had been a total waste, Julia thought. Despite its promising beginning, everything had gone wrong. There was no reason to stay. She would seek out Aunt Maddie, make her excuses, and bring this painful evening to an end.
Nick returned and handed her a glass. “There was no sherry to be had, so I was forced to concede to the ratafia, after all.”
She took a sip and grimaced. “Too sweet.”
“Drink it nonetheless. We must get some color back into those cheeks.” He lifted a hand to her face but Julia pulled away.