The Christmas Cameo by Sharon Sobel

Author:Sharon Sobel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks, Inc.
Published: 2018-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

STEWART WAS humbled by the beauty of the lady smiling down on them, and felt warm affection and gratitude for the young artist who painted her. Indeed, his great uncle was never renowned as a painter, and was engaged in the art of pottery design. But here his brushstroke was dramatic and self-assured and his adoration of the lady, his wife, was patently clear.

A week ago, Stewart wondered why Lady Lysandra seemed familiar to him. Unable to think of any circumstances in which they might have met, he finally decided she had a familial look, perhaps about the eyes or in her heart-shaped face. Now he recognized that she had the very look of their great aunt, whose beauty was so lovingly preserved in her portrait.

No wonder Maxwell Roxbury, the adventurer who learned his craft as a cameo artisan in Italy before returning home to England to work at the Wedgwood potteries, loved her so. He married Lady Rose Arlington, who was intended for Lord Gawain Gilderson after meeting at her parents’ Christmas house party. Some years later, Maxwell inherited the Gilderson title, and it passed, in turn, to his own son, Michael. But Maxwell and Rose also had a second son, Oliver Roxbury, who had the good sense to marry the daughter of Rose’s brother James. Oliver and Sophie Roxbury, each related to noble lineage without being in possession of titles in their own right, were his parents.

This Stewart knew from the recitations of his family’s history. But he knew Rose from the portfolios of exquisite sketches that had been left to him by his father, who had never met her. And here was Lady Rose herself, waiting for him to claim her, right on his own estate.

“I am glad you appreciate her, Lord Arlington, but our great aunt is not for sale,” said Lady Lysandra, standing close to his side. “The portrait has been in Partridge Cottage for many years, a small inheritance for each lady who has lived here under the protection of her father, or brother, or cousin. It once belonged to Lady Maybelle, Rose’s aunt.”

He turned to face her, but she was so close, they each took a step back.

“I would not deprive you of it. It is meant to be enjoyed, and certainly by someone who has a bond with the lady.”

“Rose was also your great aunt, so perhaps you have just as strong a claim,” she admitted, sadly. “But take heart, for it may be yours someday. My branch of the illustrious family tree ends here, you understand.”

Her eyes closed, and he wondered what she was thinking. Certainly nothing that gave her joy. And he knew, even more than the death of her beloved brother, it was his very presence that saddened her. It was a painful realization, all the more because he realized he found much pleasure in hers.

“It would be a pity, for you are very like your great aunt, and therefore the most beautiful branch of the tree.”

He was

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