A Rogue's Reputation by Lana Williams

Author:Lana Williams [Williams, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-22T23:00:00+00:00

~*~

Benjamin was relieved to hear laughter rather than tears or worse—screams. He gestured for Louisa to lead the way to the next floor, wanting to keep himself between her and the servant in case the man attempted a more physical method of halting them.

“Non. You cannot go up there,” the servant protested as he started after them.

“Stay where you are.” Benjamin sent a glare along with the order, pleased when the man halted on the first step.

“He won’t be pleased.”

“Your warning is duly noted.” Benjamin stayed close to Louisa, keeping an eye on the servant while watching the landing above.

He feared Louisa wouldn’t appreciate what they were about to discover. Though he knew she’d rescued her mother on more than one occasion, finding her posing nude carried a higher level of concern. If Delacroix specialized in seducing his subjects, they might be interrupting an intimate scene that should remain behind closed doors.

Louisa marched up the stairs, her anger seeming to overcome any previous trepidation. She reached for the closed door at the top of the stairs, but Benjamin halted her.

“Proceed with caution,” he advised with a pointed look, both for her safety as well as her sanity.

The intensity in her gaze eased as if she’d grasped his meaning. She nodded, then with a deep breath, she slowly opened the door and looked in.

Benjamin stayed back, not wishing to violate the marchioness’s privacy if she wasn’t properly attired. But he remained at the ready in case the painter threatened Louisa.

“Mother.” By the reprimand in Louisa’s tone, he suspected all was not as it should be.

“Louisa! Darling. Whatever are you doing here?” The rustle of material reached Benjamin, making him hope the marchioness had covered herself if needed.

“I’ve come to take you home.”

“Who is this?” The man’s voice held a distinct French accent, much more refined than his servant’s.

Louisa moved into the room, and Benjamin followed closely for her protection.

The Marchioness of Whirlenhall sat on a gold and white striped settee, her body draped in a deep blue satin cloth with candles surrounding her. Her bare shoulders and feet suggested she wore nothing beneath. A fire burned brightly nearby and helped to warm and light the room.

The artist stood near the window before a large canvas set on an easel, a paintbrush in hand. His shocked expression might’ve been amusing in other circumstances. Paints stood on a table nearby along with a cup full of brushes and more candles.

“What is the meaning of this?” Delacroix demanded.

“We’re here to collect the marchioness and her painting, along with one other,” Benjamin advised him. He intended to take the Delham portrait and put an end to the extortion.

“You will do no such thing.” He threw down the paintbrush and stepped forward only to halt and glare at Benjamin. “Who are you?”

Benjamin didn’t bother to answer. Words were of little use in a situation like this. He preferred action. With a nod at Louisa to assist her mother, he eyed the stacks of paintings propped along the walls to determine where to search.

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