“What are you thinking about so seriously, Miss Crewe?” Mr. Fellowes asked.
“I was wondering if I should alter the character of my heroine to make her less timid and demure.”
“If you want your art to imitate life, I’d say that I haven’t known you for more than a few minutes, Miss Crewe, but it strikes me that you are the opposite of timid, and as for demure, I’ve always found that to be an overrated virtue.” He turned the full force of a dazzlingly white smile upon her and she blinked rapidly. My, he was handsome. Lord Fortescue made flesh.
“If my son and his friend don’t emerge this evening, perhaps I may call upon you at some future date?” he asked. “So that you may speak with Van in person. For your novel research, of course.”
“I should enjoy that. Thank you.”
“Your guardian is fast friends with my elder brother.” Mr. Fellowes nodded at the two tall, muscular men standing near the refreshments table.
“What do you think they’re speaking of with such intense expressions?”
“Horseracing. Bareknuckle boxing. Building faster carriages. Retribution on their enemies. Much the same as Van and Flor, actually.”
Ana laughed. She liked Patrick immensely. “Your conversation is so... conversational. You express yourself so easily.”
“Is that an accomplishment?”
“It is if you’ve been spending too much time with the Duke of Warburton.”
“I’m a lawyer. I make my living by my conversation. I’m not a member of the gentleman’s club that Warburton and my brother frequent. Far too much danger and excitement for my rather staid tastes.”
“Do they have an actual club?” One of the chapters in LadyClaridge’s outline was set in an exclusive London gentleman’s club of which Fortescue and Falconer were members.
“The Thunderbolt Club.”
“A gentleman’s club?”
“If you can call them gentlemen. Although they do occasionally host a charitable event whose proceeds go to helping destitute young women, or other such worthy causes.”
“I’m writing about just such a club in my book. Of course I’ve never had any practical experience, I can only imagine what goes on behind those exclusive walls.”
“Perhaps Warburton will give you a tour of his club.”
“Unlikely. He wants as little to do with me as possible.” He’d reluctantly agreed to accompany her this evening only because he’d given Lady Glynis the evening off.
Lulu joined them. “Are you having a good time?”
“Your paintings are extraordinary,” Ana replied.
“You haven’t seen the final room yet. Come along!”
Patrick made a bow to Ana and Lulu. “I must search for my errant son.”
The final room was small and lit by flickering torches set in silver filagree sconces. The paintings were different, more vibrant colors, indigo blues and vermilions that shimmered and pulsed against the walls.
Ana stood still in the center of the room, turning slowly, taking it all in. “I can’t believe it.”
“What?” asked Lulu.
“It’s as though you reached inside my mind.”
“You feel a kinship with my fantastical beasts, hobgoblins, and faeries?”
“You don’t understand. I wrote a book about such creatures. Thisone.” She pointed to a painting of a huge black-winged dragon in flight. “This looks exactly like the Dread Dragon Qavox.”
“I love that name,” Lulu cried. “I want to read your book. Has it been published?”