The Art of Sinning by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page A

curricle for my use while I’m in England. Give me the direction to your estate, and I’ll present myself at whatever time you see fit next Monday.”
    â€œI have a meeting that morning, but I’ll be home around two,” Blakeborough interrupted, sparing a sympathetic glance for his sister. “So any time after that will be fine.”
    â€œOne more thing.” Jeremy fixed his gaze on Lady Yvette. “I’ll need to bring my apprentice. His aid will ensure I finish the portrait more quickly.”
    â€œVery well,” she said. “Will he be staying with you? Or shall I find a room for him elsewhere?”
    â€œHe’ll be comfortable enough in your servants’ quarters, if you can accommodate him.” He took another chance to provoke her. “ I’ll be fine in your servants’ quarters if that’s what your ladyship prefers.”
    â€œI’d prefer that you not be ridiculous,” she muttered, eliciting a choked laugh from her brother.
    Jeremy bowed. “I shall do my best to oblige your ladyship.”
    Apparently she caught that he was mocking her, for she cast him a hard look. He grinned. All right, this might be unwise for many reasons, not least of which was that he must spend part of his time on a formal portrait. But it had its advantages, as well.
    He would definitely enjoy sparring with the prickly Lady Yvette.

    The sun had set by the time the wedding celebration was over and the Barlow carriage headed across London for the town house.
    â€œYou’re very quiet.”
    The sound of Edwin’s voice made Yvette start. “So are you. What of it?”
    â€œI’m always quiet. You, on the other hand, are a babbling brook after a social event. You like to tell me who said what and when. You like to either wax rhapsodic over the owner’s collection of books or bemoan their lack.”
    â€œAnd describe the gowns,” she said lightly. “Don’t forget that.”
    â€œI see I should have kept quiet about your being quiet.”
    She let out a rueful laugh. Poor Edwin. She was such a trial to him. He liked his solitude, and she could only take solitude in small doses. Solitude gave one too much time to brood over the past.
    â€œVery well, I won’t bore you about the gowns. Although I did think that Lady Zoe’s silver reticule was—”
    â€œIf you begin describing reticules, I swear I’ll throw myself from the coach.” Edwin paused. “But you could tell me what you and Keane were talking about in the gardens.”
    Uh-oh. Trying to keep things secret from herbrother always made her feel awful. “We were talking about the paintings, of course.”
    â€œPaintings? More than just the portrait?”
    Oh, Lord, she couldn’t believe she’d let that slip. “Not the portrait. We settled that immediately. His other paintings. The ones that have been exhibited.”
    â€œAh, right. The ones you criticized.”
    â€œGave an opinion of. That’s different from criticizing.”
    â€œHmm.” Edwin stared out the window. “You do realize that by hiring Keane to paint you, I was not . . . I didn’t mean to imply that you somehow need to be shown as—”
    â€œIt’s all right, Edwin. I know what you think of me.”
    â€œI’m not sure that you do.”
    She banked as much irritation as she could. “You think I’m bent on thwarting your attempts at getting me married, so you wish to nudge me.”
    â€œOh. Well, I suppose you’re right about that.” He sounded edgy. “I’m worried you’re looking at past events as proof of why you should avoid finding a husband.”
    â€œWhat past events?” Samuel had sworn never to tell Edwin about her nearly ruinous association with Lieutenant Ruston. Had he lied?
    â€œWhat happened toward the end of our parents’ unfortunate marriage, of