Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1)(30)
“You’re welcome to pinch any part of me, Lily.” He grinned rakishly and put his arms around her.
“Daniel! Anyone could walk in.”
“I’m not sure I care,” he said, nuzzling her hair.
“You are a rogue! Now let go of me and show me some more art.”
“All right.” He led her to a beautiful oak table and pointed to an ornate coppery red vase. “This is from China, the Ming dynasty. It’s dated around 1500.”
“It’s lovely. I’ve heard of Ming vases. They’re quite valuable aren’t they? Are you sure it’s safe to have it sitting out here?”
“This is a reproduction. The actual vase is in the estate’s safe. My father agreed with your assessment, especially when Morgan and I were young. Sometime maybe I’ll show you the real one.”
“I’d love that.”
She followed him to a portrait of an older gentleman.
“Do you know who this is?” he asked.
“Yes, I think so. It’s George Washington, the first president of the colonies.”
“It’s the United States, love. Since last century, remember?”
She gave him a friendly smack on the arm. “Who painted it?”
“An American artist named Gilbert Stuart. My father got it when he went to America shortly after the turn of the century. Many peers faulted him for hanging it here, but he always admired the Americans and their courage and fortitude. He said they offered a great lesson in pride and perseverance. This painting reminded him of that.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man.”
“He was. About some things. I’m hoping some of it rubbed off on me along the way. Here, this one I think you’ll like.” They stopped in front of a full-length portrait of his parents, the Duke and Duchess of Lybrook. “This was commissioned shortly after they were married. My mother was actually pregnant with Morgan at the time, but the artist depicted her otherwise.”
Daniel’s father, Charles Farnsworth, the sixth Duke of Lybrook, was built like his son, tall and strong with broad shoulders and lean hips. His hair was a light chestnut, and his eyes the color of cinnamon. His face had the same fine lines and strong jaw that Daniel possessed. Morgana, the Duchess of Lybrook, was as Aunt Iris had described her, exotically beautiful, with hair that rivaled Daniel’s and eyes the color of clear green emeralds.
“I can see where you get your good looks, Daniel,” Lily said. “Your parents are both spectacular.”
“Yes, I can’t say they never gave me anything, can I?”
The facetious comment confused Lily, but she said nothing as Daniel led her to a glass-knobbed door between the rows of shelving on the wall opposite the door they had come in. He took a key out of his pocket and turned it in the lock. “Now, if you’ll follow me.”
Lily’s heart nearly stopped. It was another library, but this one was a gallery dedicated solely to art. The giant chandelier illuminated a room filled with treasures. Paintings hung on the walls, sculptures stood on the floor, and vases and smaller statues graced several cherry tables. “Oh Daniel!” She grasped his arm. “I can’t believe this!”
“Don’t get overly excited. About half of these paintings are my mother’s work, and she was never a big name in the art world.”
“You silly, art isn’t about names. It’s about beauty and emotion.” She whirled around, trying to take it all in.
Daniel patiently led her through the room, showing her each individual piece and explaining the history behind it and how it had come into his family. Lily gushed over paintings by Van Dyck and Rembrandt, and was particularly taken with a copy of Leonardo Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa that the duchess had painted.
“This was the only time she ever copied someone else’s work. She was so taken with the portrait that she spent a month in Paris so she could go to the Louvre and look at it every day. She would spend about an hour each morning studying it and then go back to her chamber and paint. I’ve seen the real one, and my mother’s is remarkably accurate.”
“It’s amazing,” Lily said. “I must see the Louvre someday. I can’t even imagine what a thrill it will be.”
“Let’s go tomorrow, then,” Daniel said with a smile.
“All right. I’ll pack my valise.” She gave him a quick hug. “This has been a fantastic evening. Thank you so much for showing me everything.”
“I have several more pieces I’d like for you to see, but they’re scattered around the estate. Would you like to save them for another time?”
Lily lifted her hand and caressed the curve of Daniel’s jaw, his night beard rough against her palm. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t want to look at another piece of art tonight.”
“What do you want to do, love?” he asked, taking her other hand in his.
More than anything in the world, she knew what she wanted. And damn the consequences.
“I want to go to bed,” she said. “With you.”
Chapter 7
Lily sighed as she entered Daniel’s bedchamber. A fire had been started in the grate, casting a delicate glow about the room and illuminating St. Praxedis’s lovely face in an incandescent beauty. The table in the window was set with a small platter of fruit and chocolate, and an uncorked bottle of wine and two glasses stood next to it. Two tapers lit the small banquet.