Laurie's Painter (sweet Regency romance) by Alice M. Roelke Read Free Book Online Page A

crowds—of his own choosing.
    She ignored his baiting, pressed
her lips together, and contented herself with a cold look.
    "You won't cross
swords with me? I didn't think it of you, Mother!"
    "I feel sure we have
better things to discuss. Let us have tea in the drawing room and you can tell
me the real reason for your visit." She swept away to order refreshments
for them.
    She ordered a great many
things, and Laurie's mouth watered at the thought of Cook's famous pastries
that had kept him happy since his boyhood, and still worked to do so.
    He excused himself to
freshen up and bounded up to his old room. His mother kept it ready for him,
always clean and aired, though he rarely stayed at the estate.
    The old home brought
nostalgic pleasure but also less pleasant memories of losing his sister. But
most of all, he was simply too busy in town to come down here often. His business
matters and studies as well as his friendships, jokes and charities all claimed
a fair amount of time and left him little extra for rustication, unless he made
specific time and plans for it. The country estate's management was largely
handled by his mother and Laurie did what he needed to long-distance for the
most part.
    Shortly, his valet had
helped him change, and he returned to his mother's side. The tea and pastries—his
favourites—had arrived, and his gaze fastened on them briefly, before returning
to his mother.
    "Laurence, dear, to
what do I owe this pleasure?" asked his mother, seated demurely across the
refreshments from him. She gave him a coolly assessing look with icy blue eyes.
He knew somewhere inside was the dreamy-eyed girl from her youthful wedding
portrait—unless that girl had died somewhere along the way to be replaced by a
termagant. Not that he thought of his mother in those terms... except for when
she began to meddle in his affairs and try to get him leg-shackled.
    Though his mother often
mentioned that it was time he marry and produce and heir or heirs, he did not
think she would relish moving to the dower house. She enjoyed commanding a
horde of servants far too much for that.
    He smiled at her now,
hoping it looked disarming. She deserved to know ahead of time. He hoped she
would take it well.
    "I am inviting some
guests in the spring, Mother. I expect we'll be here for some weeks. I wish
them to be welcomed to the best of our family's ability. You needn't help me,
but I truly want them to feel at home here, and it would go easiest were you to
agree."
    His mother looked, as much
as she was able, surprised. "Well, this is news indeed," she said
dryly. "And just who are these extraordinary friends whom you plan to have
here?" She arched one brow delicately and raised a fine bone-china teacup.
    Henry smiled. "Curiosity
piqued, Mother? Very well, the young man is Henry Wilkenson. He went to the
same school as I did. Then his family had a reversal of fortunes, and, to cut a
long and dreadful story short, he became a painter and is struggling under his
father's debts.
    "He's a very good
painter, and I wish to support his efforts and pay him astronomically for some
portraiture here. I also very much wish him to take in the fresh air, good
food, and restful pace of the countryside. For he is quite ill and—grows weaker.
Consumption. It would not be wise to move him in winter, but if he lives long
enough nothing will persuade me not to bring him here."
    He looked at his mother,
awaiting any disapproval or sign of dissent. She gave none.
    She had looked startled
when he mentioned Henry's illness, probably feeling the same ache that was
still as painful to her as to Laurie. No matter how they both tried to cover
it, Ann's death kept coming back.
    "And his sister,"
he added. "She seems a very pleasant girl and he can't leave her alone
without chaperone in the city."
    His mother's expression
did not change, but he felt as much as saw the change in her attention. She was
extremely focused on his words now. "Oh?" she asked with