The Duke's Twin novel Chapter 8

"Becca, dear, don't bother His Grace," her mother called out. "Lord Wiltshire, surely you would like to come watch Lydia paint. She's so very gifted."

"Thank you, Mrs. Livingston, but I'm quite content to assist Miss Livingston. My brother has seen to Miss Lydia." The duke turned back to Rebecca, chuckling at her started expression.

"What?" he asked.

"You."

"What about me?"

"You don't want to go watch my sister?"

"No, not particularly." The duke tilted his head to one side as he studied her. "Just between us, I believe you are far more interesting."

"Interesting?" Rebecca didn't think she'd ever heard that word applied to herself before. "I highly doubt that, Your Grace."

"Of course you are. I saw you in the library the other night, rearranging books. You've read quite a bit, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have."

"I thought so. Now, tell me what you like to read about while I watch you paint a masterpiece."

This time she laughed. "Oh heavens, you will be in for quite a surprise, I fear," she said and dipped one of her brushes in a bit of a paint on the palette he held.

Above them the clear skies were quickly filling with blue-gray clouds heavy with rain. Maybe it would storm and wash away whatever devastation she was about to wreak upon her canvas.

The duke stayed beside her, keeping her engaged with polite conversation about a number of subjects that she was interested in as she studied the landscape for a subject to paint. She decided to go with the lake and a grove of trees. Surely that would not be beyond what little talent she possessed.

"I'm surprised we've not crossed paths in town," Wiltshire noted, taking a stool next to her as she began to paint.

"I'm not a lover of town. At least, not the balls and social engagements."

"And what are you a lover of?" The silken words flooded her entire body with a dizzying warmth. He was a flatterer, she could tell, but he was choosing to flatter her, and that caught her well off guard. She struggled to think.

"Music, the theater, quiet hours reading in sunshine, riding... What about you?" She masked her curiosity by splashing some blue on her canvas.

Things that tempt him? Did he mean her or Lydia? Rebecca looked toward Lydia and Beresford. Their heads were bent together, Lydia smiling as she gestured to something on her canvas. She and Beresford made a lovely sight. Another twinge of melancholy and envy fluttered in her chest.

"I say, that is a remarkably well-done elephant," Wiltshire said, staring at her canvas.

"I beg your pardon?" She looked back at what she'd been painting. Wiltshire pointed to the blurry gray shape on the canvas.

"The elephant. I can see clearly the trunk and... Why are you laughing?"

"It's not"-snicker-"an elephant"-chortle. "It's supposed to be the lake." He soon dissolved into a fit of giggles with her, until the pair of them were both gasping for breath.

"Christ," Wiltshire moaned and clutched his stomach. "I haven't laughed that hard in years."

"Nor have I," Rebecca admitted.

Seconds later, without warning, the skies opened up and unleashed a torrential rain.