Artful Deceptions by Patricia Rice Read Free Book Online

think of himself as an uncomplicated fellow, with no grudges to grind and no ambitions to distort his view of the world as a very pleasant place to play in. As an only child, he knew he would inherit fortune and title with his father’s passing, and as he did not indulge himself to excess with wine, women, horses, or gambling, he had sufficient wherewithal to support himself very comfortably in the meantime.
    Although many another gentleman in his idle position filled his time with the physical pleasures London had to offer, Galen’s interests were more intellectual. Not that he didn’t enjoy good horseflesh and an occasional bout of fisticuffs to keep in shape, but they weren’t sufficient to stimulate his mind or senses. With the extra time and money he had on his hands while waiting for his father to surrender the operations of his estate, Galen found pleasure in the arts.
    Again, he wasn’t the first gentleman to follow his Grand Tour with a passion for collecting, but his tour had been limited by Boney’s war, and his passion had been whetted by collections here at home. His father’s estate had a fine gallery, and his interest had begun when pursuing a particular Turner landscape to complete one wall. One Turner hadn’t been enough, and he had begun to search out other suitable examples when the available supply of Turners was exhausted.
    In consequence, Locke had begun to meet the artists who produced the paintings he most enjoyed. Constable had not yet made a name for himself, but Galen was certain he would soon, and he patronized the artist frequently. He knew Sir Thomas Lawrence personally, although he wasn’t any more fond of the man than of his paintings. But the acquaintance led him to new and different artists who in turn led him to learn more of the old and valuable art being sold for a song in the aftermath of war. His pursuit had become almost as much of a passion as he would allow himself.
    For a proper English gentleman did not allow himself passions; they were upsetting to logic and the orderly running of things. Galen had been taught that at his father’s knee and learned the lesson well. It was most likely the reason that he and his father seldom spoke now. The earl was a busy man and had taken time to lecture his son only when his heir had indulged himself in excess, whether it were of high spirits or liquor or song.
    Perhaps another man would have chosen to consistently indulge in excess in order to obtain his parent’s attention, but Galen was made of stronger stuff. He was an only child, after all, and obedience was trained into him. Not for him were the romps in the haystacks with brothers and sisters, or wild races through the fields with neighboring children. His had been an orderly upbringing with the proper tutors and the right sort of amusements. And so after a while his father did not need tonotice him at all.
    And he had turned out quite excellently well. Galen grinned at the thought and pushed his hat to a cocky angle with his walking stick. His main fault was that he wasn’t serious enough. Perhaps he would turn serious when he had an estate to run. Meanwhile, he found it amusing to watch people, entertaining to be the center of attention when he entered a room, and pleasant to drink wine, make love, and enjoy art. Not necessarily in that order.
    But that was the order for tonight’s entertainment. Galen knew he should be seriously considering marriage, but until he was ready to take that step, he had healthy urges that shouldn’t be neglected. It had occurred to him upon occasion to set up a mistress, but as in wife-hunting, he had not found a woman that he was serious enough about to consider. So when the need came upon him, he met with some other cronies and went visiting.
    The house he had in mind for tonight was not so delightfully stimulating as that of the Wilsons, but he had his company for the evening to consider. Harriet Wilson and her sisters were priced high, too