The Painted Lady (27 page)

“What do you mean, there are none left?” the Regent demanded when he arrived. “I came here to collect a painting, by Jupiter.”

The Prince was more a patron than a purchaser, Kasey knew, since he seldom had the funds to actually pay for anything. “I regret that others were before you, Your Highness, but I am honored by your interest.”

“It’s a shame, I say. I’d be proud to own one of these. What about this one, eh? I do not see a sold sign on it.”

The painting in question rested on an easel in the center of the room. “Oh, that one is not for sale, Highness.”

“Damn. I have just the perfect spot for it, in the grand foyer of my new Pavilion at Brighton.”

“Where people would see it, Your Highness?” Lilyanne asked, proud there was only the slightest quiver in her voice as she addressed royalty. “A lot of people?”

“Only the best, of course.” The Prince’s elegant friend Brummell lowered his quizzing glass and smiled at Lilyanne, setting her mind at rest and, unknown to her, setting his seal of approval on her welcome to the Beau Monde.

Kasey looked at Lilyanne, who was radiantly beautiful, then at the painted lady, who was equally exquisite, in a different way. They were both looking at him as hopefully as the Prince Regent. “Your Highness, may I humbly present my painting to you as a wedding present?”

“What’s that? A wedding gift, you say? But I am not getting married. Done that already, by all the saints. One too many times, if you ask me.”

Kasey smiled politely and bowed his head. “No, sir, I meant my marriage. Your acceptance of the Painted Lady would be the greatest gift you could give to me and my bride. That and your presence at the wedding, of course.”

“Honored, Caswell, honored. Lovely gel. I envy you both for your talent and for such a love match, but I wish you all the happiness in the world, I do. Know you’ll find it, man of your genius.”

Kasey lifted Lilyanne’s hand to his lips. “I don’t have to search for happiness, Your Highness. I have already found it.”

“Lucky man, eh?” Then the Prince grabbed for Brummell’s quizzing glass, bending to peer closer at the portrait despite his creaking corsets. “I say, Caswell, did she just wink at me?”

To the Beau Monde

Copyright © 2001 by Barbara Metzger

Originally published by Signet  (ISBN 0451203682)

Electronically published in 2012 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.