The Scent of Jasmine by Jude Deveraux

Author:Jude Deveraux [Deveraux, Jude]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3, pdf
Publisher: Chivers
Published: 2009-12-31T06:00:00+00:00

Alex made his hands into fists. What he wanted to do was throw her over his shoulder and tie her to a tree. He’d pay someone to free her four hours after they’d sailed away—or maybe it should be six. She could move quickly.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me. I’m going and that’s final.”

“And do what? Dress the men’s hair? Mend their clothes? I heard that you’ve had some practice in doing laundry. I know! How about if you do the cooking?” Cay wanted to rattle off the list of credentials of her artistic education, but she made herself keep quiet. His remark about the laundry reminded her that he knew things about her family that must have come from someone who knew them. The logical person was Uncle T.C., but she’d never known him to talk about much of anything except plants. Whatever the source, Alex knew personal, private things about her and her family. However, it was strange that Alex didn’t seem to know that Cay could draw and paint. Usual y, she had a sketchbook and pencils with her.

She rarely went anywhere without the means to draw what she saw, but on the night she met Alex, she’d been going to a bal , so her drawing equipment had been left at home. And since then, everything had been so new and strange that she hadn’t thought much about art.

Now, it seemed that Alex’s not knowing about her might be a very good thing.

“You said that anyone could draw. If I remember correctly, you said, ‘How hard can it be?’ Can you draw?”

“A bit,” he said. “Believe it or not, I had a drawing master who trained in London.”

“You were meaning to take on the job of recorder for yourself, weren’t you?”

“I thought about it.” Alex was smiling.

She wanted to kick him! What else had he kept from her? “How about if we both do a few drawings and let Jamie decide which of us wil record this trip for posterity?”

Alex kept smiling. “Lass, I should warn you that I was the best in my class at drawing.”

“Were you?” she asked, trying to sound impressed.

“Aye, I was. I liked going out into the heather and drawing the animals I saw. If I hadn’t been a horseman, I could have . . .” He shrugged. “What training have you had?”

“Mrs. Cooper’s Academy for Young Ladies,” she said quickly. “We used to paint china teacups.” This was true, but she didn’t tel him it had been when she was four and she’d painted her family’s portraits on the cups—which had made her mother hire the first of several private drawing masters.

“Did you now?” He was smiling so hard it was nearly a smirk. Alex was confident that he’d win any artistic competition. If his sister was good at art, Alex was sure Nate would have told him so, and since he hadn’t, Alex figured that she’d had only a little training. Teacups! She had no idea what a journey like this required.

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