Claimed by an Earl by Belinda Atherton

Author:Belinda Atherton [Atherton, Belinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Pines Romance
Published: 2018-09-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Bedfordshire and London, Mid April 1812

The next day provided another fresh and bright morning. Natasha patiently showed Leon how to hold his brush, and to wash the paper with color. “Just look at Elisabeth’s,” she encouraged him. “See how when you sweep the brush across the paper it depicts the different hues of blue?”

Leon frowned, sticking his little tongue out of the side of his mouth as he tried to emulate his sister’s stroke. His pressure was too strong, and he had not watered the paint down sufficiently, so he was left with a bold streak of blue across the white paper. “I shall never be able to do it,” he muttered unhappily.

“Yes, you shall,” Natasha assured him. “It simply takes practice. Elisabeth practices all the time. That is why she is so good at it. Think about how well you play the pianoforte.”

Leon’s eyebrows curved into a puzzled frown. “Not as well as Papa.”

“No, that is true enough, but recall the very first time you tried to play.” Natasha waited while the boy thought back on that time. He nodded to her. “Well, you were not as accomplished then as you are now, were you?”

“I was terrible,” he admitted. “I am much better now.”

“And you shall be even better when you are your Papa’s age and have been practicing every day, as he does. Well, the same is true of painting, and singing and all manner of skills that you must learn. You will not always be good at them from the first but with courage and perseverance, you will get better and better.”

The boy stood still for a moment thinking upon her words. He looked so very serious that Natasha almost burst out laughing. But then, he picked up the paintbrush, dipped it into his jar of water, then applied it to the cake of paint. He watched his sister as she applied her strokes, and copied her as best he could. He stood back, and admired his work, “Miss Cahill, it’s much improved already!” he squealed in delight.

“Oh, dear Miss Cahill!” Natasha looked over her shoulder, to see the slightly portly Mrs. Unwin running as fast as her squat legs would carry her down the garden path to where Natasha was teaching the children to paint with watercolors. Overhead, she waved a telegram that had been delivered just moments beforehand. “I am so sorry, I did not mean to read it; it is for you after all. But it was not sealed, and I couldn’t help but see. Your sister, dear Miss Amy is to be wed, after all!”

“You must have misread it, Mrs. Unwin,” Natasha said dismissively. “Amy would not marry anyone but Major Hampton. She vowed to me in her letter, the one I received just two days ago, that her heart was broken and she could not even consider casting her eye upon another gentleman.”

Mrs. Unwin shrugged and handed over the slip of thin paper. Natasha read it slowly.

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