The Seduction of Lady Charity: The Baxendale Sisters Book Four by Maggi Andersen Page A

reject a fellow tore strips off his self-esteem. Most women would jump at the chance to marry a duke. And now he had this Gunn fellow to contend with. He was too familiar by half. Robin stood. “I see you have finished your tea. Shall we move on to the next painting?”
    A scratching came from the French doors. Through the glass, his whippet could be seen, impatiently waiting for his servants to admit him.
    Mercy jumped up. “You have a new dog, Robin? He’s adorable.”
    “Henry is far from adorable. He has very bad manners. I found him causing a riot at the home farm.” Robin strode to the door and opened it. Henry ran straight into Mercy’s outstretched arms. He settled there as if he’d found a home.
    Mercy patted him. “What happened to his ear?”
    “He came out worst in a fight, I suspect.”
    Mercy gently stroked the dog’s ragged ear. “I shall stay here with Henry while you two go and discuss paintings. I can see you won’t always agree. And I’m afraid that, apart from Charity’s portraits, which do serve a purpose, I don’t really see what the fuss is about.”
    “Oh, Mercy.” Charity smiled at her. “You merely want an excuse to stay with the dog.”
    “Then you must stay, of course.” Robin eyed Henry as the dog gulped down the last of the shortbread that Mercy offered him. “I’ll instruct the footman to bring more biscuits.”
    He turned to Charity. “I seek your opinion on the art in the passage near the ballroom, there’s a couple in the drawing room, another in a bedchamber, and we’ll end the tour with the portrait gallery.”
    “Then we should begin.” Charity stood and smoothed the skirts of her slate-blue wool dress, decorated with bands of a darker velvet, which suited her, he thought.
    They climbed the divided marble stairway above the Great Hall to where the ballroom doors stood open.
    She peered inside. “It’s enormous. Have you held a ball here?”
    “Yes. A few weeks ago.”
    Her blue eyes held a gleam of interest. “Was it a success?”
    “The guests seemed to enjoy it.” He gestured. “The painting in question hangs on the wall over there.”
    Charity walked over to the dark oil painting. She examined it closely. “This obviously needs restoration. It’s a fine work by Rembrandt.”
    “My secretary has a catalogue of all the artworks, but says it needs updating.” Robin consulted his notes. “I believe this to be The Blinding of Samson .”
    “A ghoulish subject, although any of his work is worth keeping.”
    They continued along the passage discussing those they came across, two of which Robin insisted should be replaced.
    “They are all very fine paintings, Robin. It’s a matter of taste.”
    “I have one more to show you before we go to the portrait gallery.”
    They entered a blue-and-gold bedroom. Charity went straight to the painting he had in mind. A naked lady in her bed welcoming her lover.
    “The mythical character, Danae,” he explained, eyeing her carefully, “who later bore Zeus’ son, Perseus.”
    “Your uncle had a keen eye for art. He could hardly go wrong with Rembrandt,” she said pragmatically.
    “Indeed.” Aware that he and Charity were in a bedroom, standing before a naked woman in the throes of passion, he tugged at his cuffs. “I should keep it?”
    “Oh yes.” She sounded breathless. “I would. It’s perfect for this lovely room. Whose bedroom would this have been? We’re not in the guest wing, are we?”
    “This is the duchess’s suite. There’s a dressing room through that door, which opens into the duke’s bedchamber.”
    She walked to the door and peered inside. “My, what a big bath. You could almost fit two in it.”
    He raised an amused eyebrow. “I believe it might be possible.”
    She spun on her heel and walked to the window. “There’s a wonderful view of the rose garden from here.”
    He came to stand beside her and leaned forward, his head close to hers. “And the ornamental lake. See?” He