The Earl and the Pickpocket

She shrugged, giving a little laugh that Adam found utterly endearing. ‘No. I can be temperamental myself on occasion.’

‘Intractable and impudent, too, and frequently stubborn, I don’t doubt. You’ll probably be more troublesome than all my other models put together.’

‘Only if you drive me to it.’

‘My temper can be awesome—that I freely admit, but Harriet maligns me most dreadfully and does me a terrible injustice. You shouldn’t believe all the gossip you hear about me. In fact,’ he murmured, a slow, roguish grin dawning across his handsome features, ‘I can be quite delightful—malleable, too, in the right hands.’

Edwina’s lips curved slightly with wry amusement, trying hard to ignore the gentle caress in his voice and the pull in his eyes. ‘From now on I fully intend to keep my hands to myself,’ she remarked pointedly, ‘and I shall reserve judgement as to the true nature of your character until I have gotten the full measure of you.’

‘And I should have known that a defiant young pickpocket with an unpredictable disposition and no regard for convention would insist on prolonging a disagreement instead of politely letting the matter drop,’ Adam said smoothly.

‘My disposition!’ Edwin exclaimed sharply, her delicate brows snapping together. ‘There is nothing wrong with my disposition.’

‘No? I find it quarrelsome,’ he told her, losing the battle to suppress his smile.

‘And still you want to paint me. Are you sure you’re up to the challenge?’ she quipped playfully.

‘I shall prevail, you’ll see,’ he told her firmly. ‘However, I foresee many skirmishes ahead.’

He laughed and Edwina felt curiously lightened by it. ‘Then I shall strive to have the upper hand every time and out-manoeuvre you at every turn.’

Adam looked at her for a long moment with those magnificent deep blue eyes, knowing that undoubtedly she would pit her will against his, and he already looked forward to the challenge. His firm chiselled lips curved in a slow smile. ‘I wouldn’t advise it. I always win,’ he stated, with the supreme confidence of one who succeeded in all he set out to do, and with the experience gained from years of intimate dalliance with the opposite sex.

Edwina returned his smile calmly. ‘We’ll see about that,’ she told him, at which she decided to let the matter rest. She directed her gaze to the passing scenery, but felt almost smothered by a perusal she knew by instinct never left her. She smiled to herself, knowing that the time she was with him would probably be the most exciting and stimulating time of her life.

They were travelling through a more rural neighbourhood, where the streets were wide and straight, the houses spacious and more gracious, with white columns. The carriage came to a halt before a large three-storey building with a plain brick fa?ade. Suddenly nervous about beginning this new stage in her life, which would happen the moment she entered this grand house—the kind of house that she was familiar with and rekindled memories of a past she had put behind her—she shrank back.

‘This—this is where you live?’

‘It is my home. Do you like it?’

‘It—it’s very grand.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’

‘And—this is where I am to stay?’

Adam’s lips twitched with wry amusement. ‘It’s not outside the realms of possibility—if you should feel inclined to stay. Come in and meet Mrs Harrison.’ Still she held back. In silence he contemplated her face. She was pale, with just a faint smattering of pale golden freckles over her nose. Sunlight gilded her hair, which was a mass of short, wispy copper curls. Her large eyes were a darkly anxious shade of green. He sensed she was afraid. ‘You look nervous.’

‘Forgive me, but I can’t help it.’

Adam leisurely raised an eyebrow. ‘It is uncommonly warm. You don’t feel faint?’ he queried with a hint of mockery.

She gave him a withering look. ‘I never faint.’

Adam smiled to himself. He should have known better than to ask. ‘Good. Don’t be nervous. You’ll be perfectly safe here with me. Mrs Harrison is my housekeeper. Come. I instructed her to have cold drinks ready on our arrival, and a room has been prepared for you. Tomorrow I’ll show you my studio.’

‘Studio? What studio?’ The absurdity of her stilted words struck her, but her stomach had worked itself into such a knot she was unable to help it.

‘Where I work.’

On entering the house they were met by Mrs Harrison, a neat little woman of a cheerful disposition. She was dressed in black, the only relief being a white lace collar and cap, which completely concealed her hair. Out of her lined, round face peered two faded grey eyes.

‘So, this is your guest, sir?’

‘Quite right, Mrs Harrison. I trust you have everything prepared?’

‘Indeed I have.’

‘My name is Edwina,’ Edwina offered.

‘Oh, but I couldn’t possibly address you by your Christian name,’ Mrs Harrison countered, clearly shocked at the very idea of it. ‘It would be most disrespectful.’

‘Please do. Everyone else does.’

‘I’d do as she says, Mrs Harrison,’ Adam commented with irony. ‘I don’t doubt for one minute that Edwina has good reason for keeping her surname to herself.’

Mrs Harrison silently conveyed her disapproval to the master but could only resign herself. When she had told him he was behaving in an extraordinary manner—moving a young lady he knew nothing about into his house and hastily packing his apprentices off on holiday—he had grinned quite boyishly and told her there was nothing ordinary about his guest. And as she looked at her she completely agreed.