What You Promised (Anything for Love, Book 4) Read online

  Matthew sat on one of the circular velvet seats positioned in the centre and stared up at the large rectangular portrait of Priscilla. He had captured her likeness to perfection, even if he did say so himself. The innocence of porcelain skin, golden hair and angelic blue eyes were counterbalanced by full sinful lips.

  The red dress she wore reminded him of the night she’d first found the courage to wander downstairs with the sole objective of seducing him. While she remembered the night for that reason, in truth, she had enticed him long before. He’d just been too blind to realise.

  A smile formed on his lips as his gaze lingered on the curve of her breast visible above the bodice of her gown. This painting was for public viewing. Hidden in his chamber, he had a much smaller version. One purely for personal pleasure. Of course, artists were rarely happy with their work and were forever making changes and alterations. Even after twenty or so sittings, he just couldn’t seem to master the soft swell of her breasts or flare of her hips.

  “There you are.” Priscilla’s voice disturbed his reverie.

  Matthew glanced up. Priscilla was attempting to navigate the stairs, but with her stomach swollen with their child, she struggled to see where to place her feet.

  “Let me help you.” He jumped up and rushed to offer his assistance.

  She gripped his hand and descended the five small steps. “You seemed lost in thought. Are you still finding fault with your work or were you dreaming about me?”

  “Both, though it’s the portrait in my chamber that needs some adjustments.”

  “Didn’t you put the finishing touches to it last week?” she said, eyeing him with some suspicion.

  His gaze fell to her full breasts filling the bodice. “I fear there is a little more of you since then.”

  She stroked her stomach. “Oh, Matthew. You can’t paint my portrait when I look like this.”

  “Why? You look beautiful, and at the moment, you can’t seem to get enough of me.”

  A blush touched her cheeks. “I have the same problem with food.”

  “Well, you may devour me whenever the mood takes you.”

  She arched a mischievous brow. “If we weren’t expecting guests I might find something to nibble on now.”

  “Nibble? The word is hardly flattering and implies I’m lacking in that department.”

  “I have never found you lacking in any department.” With a satisfied smile, she glanced around the room. “The paintings look far more impressive when displayed properly.”

  “You mean instead of hiding in a dusty attic.” A sudden pang of self-doubt hit him square in the chest. “What if no one comes?”

  She jerked her head back. “Of course people will come. I dealt with the invitations myself. Uncle Herbert has made it his mission to fill the room. Indeed, three people are interested in purchasing Lost in the Forest and have started a bidding war. And the Marquess of Danesfield wants to commission you to paint a portrait of his wife. He has come to town to visit Tristan’s friend, Mr Danbury.”

  To have the marquess as a patron would increase the value of his work considerably.

  “You know Lord Boden came to see me yesterday. He offered me a thousand pounds to paint Mr Musswell. The extortionate fee is to buy my discretion, of course.”

  “A thousand pounds,” she gasped. “Can he afford such a sum? He hasn’t gambled since they found Mr Travant’s body floating in the Thames.”

  “Boden said Travant owed money to a man in Seven Dials and tried to leave the country without paying. I think Boden feared a similar fate. If we worked out his signs and signals, someone else was bound to.”

  Priscilla nodded. “I trust Mr Musswell is to have his clothes on when you paint his likeness.”

  Matthew had not even thought to ask the question. “Should he require a more Adamesque portrayal, you’ll have to act as my chaperone. With our child on the way, I’ll not turn down the offer of a thousand pounds.”

  “Well, I’ve seen enough bare behinds not to have a fear of them.”

  “Seeing them from the window and seeing them in the flesh is vastly different,” he chuckled.

  The smile on Priscilla’s face faded as she searched his face. “Do your fears stem purely from the fact people might not like your work? Or is something else troubling you?”

  Priscilla was adept at reading his mind. As she’d asked direct questions, he could not lie to her.

  He opened his mouth to speak but struggled to find the right words.

  Priscilla held his hand. “Is it the fact your brother is accompanying Uncle Herbert?”

  Damn. Would seeing his brother rouse all the old feelings of resentment? Did he have it in his heart to forgive?

  “What the hell will I say to him?” Matthew clutched her hand tight. “What if I feel nothing but hatred in my heart?”

  “You won’t. Your heart is full of love. Since your mother’s passing, Simon has tried to reach out to you. Be the better person and accept his hand with good grace.”

  With Priscilla at his side, anything seemed possible.

  He sighed. “No doubt Simon will be just as apprehensive.”

  “I promise you, all will be well,” she said, and he believed her.

  Hopkins appeared at the top of the stairs. “Lord and Lady Morford have arrived, sir.”

  “Show them in, Hopkins.” Matthew had asked Tristan to come an hour early purely to help banish the nerves. But the sight of the couple only made the event of the day seem all the more real.

  The Morfords had barely reached the bottom step when Pricilla came forward, took Isabella’s hands and held them tight.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” Priscilla glanced down at Isabella’s swollen stomach with a look of camaraderie. “Matthew is tired of hearing me talk of cribs and christening gowns.”

  Isabella smiled and appeared just as eager to talk of their shared experiences. “Then let us leave the gentlemen to their business while we sit and converse over tea.”

  Their wives kissed them on the cheek, assisted each other up the stairs and hurried from the room.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Marcus and Anna along,” Tristan said. “They’re in London for a few weeks, and I want you to meet them.”

  “Not at all. The more people seen admiring my work, the more appealing my paintings will seem. But I thought the Danburys preferred to stay in France.”

  “They do. After her own harrowing experience, Anna wanted to open an agency in London for ladies of quality who find themselves on hard times. She is interviewing people for the post of manager.”

  “An agency? It all sounds rather intriguing.”

  “The idea is to provide board and lodgings while the ladies find their way in the world. She hopes to help with employment and education too.”

  “When I hear of such altruistic pursuits, I can’t help but be ashamed of the years I wasted on the dissolute.”

  “Trust me.” Tristan patted Matthew on the back. “We’ve all done things we’d rather forget. The important thing is what we do with our time now.”

  Matthew glanced around the room. A deep sense of pride filled his chest when he considered what he’d achieved. “It’s hard to imagine this was once a place where drunken lords gobbled grapes from a lady’s cleavage. Where people frolicked openly with their lovers.”

  “I can hardly believe it’s the same room.” Tristan scanned the walls with a look of wonder. “By God, if I’d known you were this talented I’d never have let you waste time hosting lewd parties.”

  The compliment touched him.

  “Had it not been for Priscilla, the paintings would still be locked away in the attic.” He clutched Tristan’s shoulder. “Can you imagine what my life would be like had I not offered my assistance that night in Holbrook’s garden?”

  Tristan grabbed Matthew’s forearm. “Can you imagine what all our lives would be like had you not found the courage to marry?”

  They both shivered visib
ly.

  “Let’s not think of it,” Matthew said, feeling a slight bout of nausea at the prospect. The thought of never burying himself inside his wife’s welcoming body, the thought of never having experienced the depths of true love, terrified him. “Let us count ourselves amongst the luckiest of men.”

  “Indeed,” Tristan said with a burst of optimism. “Through our shared experiences we have proven to be men willing to fight for a cause.”

  “We have proven we are men who would do anything for love.”

  Thank you for reading What You Promised.

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