I had already chosen this photo for the cover of Where Have All The Scoundrels Gone?, but I didn't realize at the time that it would play a part in the story. One of the stories, actually, since this book contains three connected romances involving three cousins.
In the third story, William is a painter who is in a bit of a slump, and he is finding his way back with Honora, someone he has adored from afar, and who may be forever out of reach.
Here's how the cover pic became part of their story:
~~~~~
"You can pose for me," Honora said. "Remove your shirt, and toss it over your shoulder. Yes, precisely like that. Now stand here." She moved him into position, and it took all he had not to grin at her earnest endeavors. "Turn your head slightly."
He leaned down and kissed her. "Like this?"
"No."
He kissed her again, aroused by her enthusiasm for the project they were undertaking. "Like this then?"
She gave him a mock frown. "Now I can see why you have never been an artist's model before. You do not take instruction very easily."
"Oh, but I do. Remember when you asked me to touch you—"
She clapped her palm against his lips. He grinned and gave it a little nibble. "Now if you will stand here, I will be over there." She motioned behind him. "I want you to turn your head slightly, as if you have just realized I am entering the room."
"I will always know when you are entering a room, or sadly, when you are leaving a room."
She did not say anything, but he heard her breath catch and knew his words affected her deeply. That is one thing he adored about her. She felt emotions intensely, and even though she did not always display them, there was so much more to her than the coolly bland surface she presented to the rest of the world.
He was much the same way. Yes, they were indeed quite the pair. A matched set.
Honora moved around behind him, setting the easel where she wanted it, and getting everything prepared. He wanted to turn around to watch her, but he stayed in place exactly as she had requested.
"This is not the pose I would have expected," he commented.
"I find I am rather partial to this view." She laughed softly. "Also, it solves my inability to reproduce your nose."
He burst out laughing. "I applaud your creative solution. Though I am bereft at being unable to watch you at work."
"I have a solution for that as well." He heard her moving about again, and the next thing he knew, she was dragging something in front of him.
A cheval mirror.
"I cannot believe I did not use that earlier. We shall employ it later."
"I should pretend I do not know what you mean." Honora tilted the mirror and then moved back to her easel. "But I am quite intrigued by the notion."
"I have so many notions, we may not have time to complete our portraits."
He wished he had not reminded her of how little time they had available, and nearly recalled his words. But she smiled once more. "I may have a solution for that as well."
His eyebrows shot up with surprise. He could see her watching him in the mirror, and it was as arousing as the thoughts he had had moments ago, of both of them reflected in the looking glass…
Honora moved away from the easel, gazing at him in the mirror as she approached. His heart beat faster, and he could feel the desire rising in his body. He was ready to carry her to the chaise once more, the portrait be damned.
Before he could move, however, she placed her lips on his shoulder. He expected the tender kiss, but the gentle bite afterwards was a surprise.
"Now do not move," she said with mock sternness, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or you shall soon learn what an unyielding taskmaster I can be. Well, until I have need of your advanced skills to finish this painting. Then I shall throw myself at your mercy."
"Now I shall stand here and ponder which I wish to see more, the taskmaster or the supplicant."
She returned to her position behind the easel, her expression filled with delight. She picked up the brush, glanced at him, and then beamed while she filled the brush with paint.
If William had thought he had lost his heart before now, he had been wrong. Completely mistaken. He should do a self-portrait, to memorialize this moment. It would show him on bended knee in front of Honora, his heart in outstretched hands, unabashedly asking for hers in return.
Now all he had to do was ensure it was not merely a figment of his fevered imagination, or simply a depiction in oils and canvas. He needed, more than anything, to bring this particular portrait to life.
~~~~~
Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone?
That is precisely what the Dowager Lady Thornham wants to know. She devotes her days to reading every scandalous morsel published about London's rakes and rogues, but lately it seems they have all settled down and abandoned their wicked behavior.
Fortunately the Dowager has hit upon a new diversion: matchmaking. She has summoned her three nephews to a house party attended by a score of marriage-minded debutantes, and warned the young men they shall lose their quarterly allowance if they thwart her matrimonial schemes.
Three Scoundrel Heroes. One Determined Dowager. Three Unexpected Romances.
Miles – The summertime gathering is a good excuse for Miles to reminisce with his cousins about the mischief they have gleefully caused their aunt throughout the years. The allowance would benefit his upcoming return to Egypt, financing his quest for antiquities, but a bride is not in his plans…until he rescues the beautiful widow Gemma and her pesky cat Snowball from some treacherous rosebushes.
Richard – His resistance to marriage makes him utterly irresistible to the marriageable females in attendance. Unfortunately for them, he is only interested in Constance, a doctor's daughter who refuses to give her heart again, especially to a charming scoundrel who extracts secrets for a living. When his wooing has little effect, he proves his devotion in another way—with a fairyland hideaway he has created just for her.
William – He is the quiet one that people rarely notice unless he is sketching their likeness. His aunt's paid companion, Honora, a budding artist, has been both his muse and the source of his inability to paint since their first brief encounter two years previously. A series of secret art lessons benefits them both, and their budding attraction is given a chance to finally blossom.
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