Wayward Wife by Sally Wentworth

Author:Sally Wentworth [Wentworth, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, General
ISBN: 9780373116058
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1991-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

LUC CHAMOND had said he would be in England again in three weeks’ time. When Clare returned from the seminar she looked through her work and decided that it was all terrible, hopeless, and that he would never be interested in it. She felt like throwing all the paintings away and telling him not to bother to come. But so long as there was a chance… Her natural optimism reasserting itself, Clare realised that she needed more paintings to show Luc and decided to work up the sketches she had made in the snow.

Boyd had already left for a sales meeting in Milan when she got home from the seminar, and she didn’t see him again until three days later. He came home quite early in the evening and found her in her studio, standing in front of an easel, and painting with absorbed concentration. She knew he was there but merely raised her free hand in acknowledgement, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth as she painted in the delicate, trailing fall of a branch weighed down by snow. Boyd stayed in the room, a couple of yards behind her and out of her vision, knowing she didn’t like anyone watching her while she worked. At last Clare straightened up, took a long, critical look at the painting and gave a small sigh of satisfaction.

‘It’s good,’ Boyd said, coming up to slip his arm round her waist. ‘One of your best.’

‘Do you really think so?’ She turned a glowing face up to receive his kiss.

‘Haven’t I just said so?’

‘But it’s important.’ Putting her brush down, she turned and put her arms round his neck. ‘I met someone who wants to see my work. He’s a gallery-owner.’

Boyd’s eyebrows rose. ‘Really? Where did you meet him?’

‘At the blue and white seminar. He’s a collector, too. An expert. He saw the painting I did of Angie’s bowl and said he would be interested to see more of my work.’

‘On the strength of just one painting?’

Recognising the note of scepticism in his voice, Clare immediately became on the defensive. ‘Not just that; he asked me about all my work.’

‘You’re sure it was your work he was interested in?’ Boyd said sardonically.

She pushed him angrily away. ‘You have a nasty mind, Boyd. Of course I’m sure.’

‘How?’

‘Because he’s quite old, and because when I invited him here to see my work and to meet you he was quite agreeable. Honestly, Boyd, you ought to have more faith in my judgement by now. I’m not a teenager to be taken in by some man with a smooth line.’

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparking with annoyance. ‘OK. OK,’ Boyd said soothingly. ‘But just exactly what is he offering you?’

‘Nothing. At least, nothing yet. He just said he would like to see my work. That’s why I’m trying to get some more pictures finished.’

‘You think he might offer to exhibit them?’ Boyd kept his tone neutral.

‘Oh, no, nothing so grand. But he might offer to take one or two to try and sell.

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