The Viscount and the Artist by Alyson Pearce

Author:Alyson Pearce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romance, regency historical, gay historical fiction, gay historical romance, historical gay romance, gay regency, historical gay, gay regency romance, regency gay, gay adult historical fiction
Publisher: Alyson Pearce

Chapter 13

Jeremy picked up a crystal bottle, pulling the stopper. He sniffed once, then winced. Far too strong for him.

“You’re not supposed to sniff straight from the bottle,” Thaddeus said. “You place a drop on a handkerchief, then smell it.”

“I still don’t like the scent.”

He set it back on the shelf, in line with all the other vials. In the five days following their tryst in the drawing room, he had done his best to avoid Andrew. It was easier than Jeremy thought it would be. The long Parliament sessions, which had been so bothersome to him when they first arrived, now seemed like a blessing. Today, though, was the first day that Andrew hadn’t been required to go to Westminster. Unable to remain in the house with Andrew, Jeremy had accepted Thaddeus’s invitation to go shopping for a new waist coat. The trip to Weston’s had only been the first stop, though, and after several hours, they had ended up here, in Harris’s Apothecary. At each stop, Thaddeus had spent more money than Jeremy’s father made in a month, and more money than Jeremy had at his disposal.

“Suit yourself,” Thaddeus said. He handed Jeremy a bottle. “Try this one. Sandalwood. A bit deeper and richer.”

He would need to be richer, if he were to be able to afford it. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Clearly you’re not fine. Your mind has been wandering since we left Weston’s. Come and tell your dear Thad what the problem is.”

“Andrew is getting married.”

Thaddeus blinked. “Forgive me, I thought I heard you say Andrew—that is, our mutual friend Lord Andrew Cardwell—has made an offer of engagement.”

“Not quite, although he will before the Season ends. A certain Lady Dersingham has caught his eye.

Thaddeus wrinkled his nose. “I would imagine you’ve nothing to worry about. Lady Dersingham flirts. That is simply part of her nature.”

“If that were all, I’d not worry. Phoebe wants Andrew to marry her, and it seems he’s taking that to heart. He’s already taken her on a carriage ride, and next week, we’re going to a dinner party where she’ll be in attendance.”

As much as Jeremy tried, he’d been unable to shake the uneasy feeling that came on every time he thought about meeting Lady Dersingham.

“I see your point. You did look rather miserable at Almack’s last night.”

Jeremy groaned. He’d done his best to forget just for the night, but every time he sat down, all he could remember was that blurted I love you. That, on top of being painfully shy, meant he spent most of the evening hovering along the walls. The experience had given him a new appreciation for wallflowers—those young women whose dance cards never had any names in them at all.

“I might have done something stupid,” he admitted.

“As one usually does. Go on.”

He glanced around, ensuring there was no one close before answering. “I told him I loved him.”

Thaddeus swore. “And do you?”

“Yes.” At Thaddeus’s expression, Jeremy continued. “He was the only one who believed in my art. The only one who gave me a chance.

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