Her Muse, Her David (Muses Book 3) Read online

  “I don’t dare hope to have such luck, but I can’t wait to sketch one of them again.”

  The corner of Brighid’s mouth turned up. “The same one, or do you wish to sketch a different gentleman of my husband’s acquaintance? Or does it even matter?”

  She could feel her cheeks warming. “The same one.” He was so handsome, with chiseled cheekbones, a strong jaw, an aquiline nose, the way his thick, dark hair fell across his forehead, and those intense brown eyes. The sketches she had of him, safely hidden away of course, did not begin to do justice to his handsome features. She didn’t dare show them to anyone, and she’d kept them safely hidden away with the exception of one, which was always with her.

  “One is in line to be an earl, did you know?”

  Why did Brighid have to go and ruin her dream? Not that she actually thought the handsome gentleman would fall in love with her and take her away from this place to sail around the world, but she did like to dream. An earl didn’t just up and travel. They had duties to attend to. Or, at least that’s what she’d been told. “I’m not looking to marry him. I just want to sketch him again.” It was a partial truth. And she’d been kicking herself for nearly a year for running away when he went to retrieve punch. She might not have left the masquerade at all if Lila hadn’t reminded her of the time, so they could be back before the vicar ever learned they’d snuck out in the first place.

  Such an unpleasant man, her uncle. So unlike her loving and gregarious father. How were the two even brothers? Her father, and mother, had a sense of adventure, wanting to explore and discover new things. Whereas her uncle was firmly settled in the scriptures and how one should live their life, and was perfectly content to never leave Ravenglass. Not that she had anything against the scriptures, and even when her parents were alive they went to church wherever they happened to be. But her uncle just didn’t understand there was a whole world out there she had yet to see. Or that Florence continued to call to her.

  Oh, to be there again and cast her eyes on Michelangelo’s David.

  With a sigh, she put the thought from her mind. She’d probably never see it again, or ever have a chance to sculpt her own David. Instead, she should focus on the small boons her uncle granted her, instead of hoping for what might never be. “Uncle has finally agreed to let me visit the coast to sketch and paint tomorrow.”

  Brighid brightened. “That would be wonderful. I know how you chafe at being ordered to remain close to the vicarage.”

  It was rare that Anna was granted enough time to be away so that she could sneak through the woods to see Brighid. Usually her uncle only allowed her so much time to go off with her sketchbook before she was to return to her duties within the house, or prayer, or reading her Bible.

  “Where is Chetwey this afternoon?” she asked as she began to sketch the pictures from the books so she’d know what to look for.

  “He’s playing billiards with a friend.”

  “Oh?” Anna’s heartbeat increased. Could one of the other bachelors already have arrived? Were all three here already and what chance did she have of encountering them? Drat, she knew the names, but didn’t know which one of the gentlemen she had sketched, David Thorn or Sidney Garrick.

  “David Thorn. One of the three bachelors you wish to sketch.”

  Anna glanced up to meet her friend’s eyes. “Is he the one?”

  “How would I know? You’ve never shown me your sketches.”

  Anna studied her friend. There was mischief in her silver eyes. Brighid knew something she was not saying. Just as she was about to ask for this David Thorn’s description and take the year old sketch from her satchel, the clock in the hallway chimed, making Anna jump. “Goodness, it’s late.”

  “Would you like to take the carriage?” Brighid asked, growing alarmed. They both knew she wasn’t supposed to be here.

  “No, I should make it in time, if I hurry. I can’t afford to miss dinner and make my uncle unhappy or he might cancel my outing tomorrow.”

  Brighid pulled herself from the settee. “When do you think you’ll be there? At the coast.”

  “As early as possible. I hope to catch the sunrise on the water.”

  “Well, enjoy your day.”

  Anna barely said goodbye before she was running down the lane and onto the path through the woods. She couldn’t be late. Worse, her uncle could not know with whom she’d been visiting. She’d been told time and time again to stay away from the healer and Brighid was unnatural and a bad influence, but Anna continued to ignore him. Brighid was her dearest friend – she understood her when a lot of people didn’t. Maybe because they were both a bit odd.

  Sprinting the last bit of the way, she made it to the house and slipped in the back door just as Lila was putting the last plate on the table. Thank goodness she made it in time.

  Her cousins, Lila and Tilly, both relaxed, as if they were afraid she wouldn’t make it back in time either. After getting her breathing under control, she let her satchel slip silently to the floor and joined her cousins at the table, just as Uncle Walter came into the dining room.

  He looked sterner tonight than normal, which did not bode well. With concentrated effort, Anna did her best not to draw attention to herself, speak out of turn, or say anything at all. She could not risk upsetting her uncle or he’d take away her outing.

  What were the chances that David Thorn was the man in her sketches? To think, she might be drawn to a gentleman named David. Until now, there’d only been one David she admired, but he was a statue, glorious in detail.

  Even if his name was David, that wouldn’t mean he’d remember her. What if he didn’t want to sit for her again?

  Blast! She hadn’t considered that possibility. All she could think about was seeing him again and capturing his likeness once more. And, maybe this time, dancing too.

  Tomorrow, or the day after, she was going to show Brighid her sketches so her friend could give her a name to go with the features. Dare she hope his name was David?

  Then again, maybe she didn’t want him to have a name, just like she wished she didn’t know one of them might be an earl one day. Perhaps it’d be easier for him to simply be the handsome gentleman she looked at each night before falling asleep, and the first face she saw in the morning, even though it was a only a sketch.

  Besides, a future earl would never have an interest in her.

  With an inward sigh, she pushed the food around on her plate so her uncle thought she was eating when in truth, her appetite had disappeared.

  She’d just need to make the best of this year’s masquerade, so she’d have memories to get her through her boring existence in this backwater town.

  “We might visit the Roman ruins tomorrow,” Lila announced, drawing Anna from her thoughts. “Lord Quentin Post has arrived with his sisters.”

  “That should be nice,” Anna answered absently, wishing she could visit the ruins as well, but the ones in Rome. And then she could travel up to Florence and gaze at Michelangelo’s David once again. Her hands practically itched to sculpt something similar, to feel the clay move through her fingers. That David was made of marble, which she could never carve. But clay was easy enough to manage and she had a good deal of it stored, just waiting to have something created from it. Unfortunately, she lacked an appropriate model.

  Chapter 2

  “Bloody hell!” Who was pounding at the door at this time of the morning? “What is it?” Thorn yelled out, not bothering to get out of his bed.

  “Time to go,” Chetwey announced after sticking his head inside the door.

  “Go? At this time of the day?” His friend had gone mad. “The sun’s barely up.” He glanced to the window. “Correct that – it isn’t up yet at all.”

  “Which is why you need to get dressed now. Cook is packing a breakfast and your horse is being saddled.”

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  “Of course not.” Chetwey laughed. “Brighid is.”

  “Not for g
ood,” she called from the other side of the door, not that David could see her, which was just as well since he was lying in his bed naked with the covers down to his waist. “You can come back later, but you must leave now,” she assured him.

  “Why? And, where am I to go?”

  “The coast!”

  “It will be there later, I assure you. It hasn’t moved in centuries,” David answered as he fell back against his pillows. Those two were more disturbing than the ghosts at Marisdùn. At least the spirits never woke him at the break of dawn.

  “You must go now!” Brighid ordered and David pulled himself up, resting on his elbows.

  “Why?”

  There was whispering on the other side of the door, but he couldn’t make out what the husband and wife were saying. “A premonition,” Brighid finally called out.

  “Premonition? Your wife has premonitions, Chetwey?”

  His friend stepped back inside the door and just shrugged.

  “So, what did this presentiment reveal?” He couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation. Those two belonged in Bedlam.

  “You might possibly find a certain person there.” Brighid’s voice sang out from the hall.

  His heart stopped, just for a moment. “My artist?”

  “Possibly,” Brighid hedged.

  Possibly was a hell of a lot closer than what he had yesterday. “Fine. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  David wasted no time getting out of bed and dressed, and paused only long enough to look into the mirror. Should he shave first? What if she was there? He should look his best. But, if he dallied, he might miss her.

  Why would she be at the coast this early?

  His golden-haired fairy should be snuggled in slumber, not out by the sea at this ungodly hour. But, if Brighid, a witch, believed she’d be there, who was he to question her?

  Instead of shaving, David pulled a comb through his hair and headed out of his room. Brighid and Chetwey were waiting for him in the foyer. Both still in robes, as if they had every intention of returning to bed after he departed. If he didn’t hope to find his artist, David would return to his, but he wasn’t about to ignore the witch’s premonition.

  Brighid held out a basket to him with a grin on her face. “There’s enough for two.”

  “Two?” Did she expect them to enjoy a breakfast picnic along the shore?

  “Of course. You wouldn’t want to not share.”

  “Thank you,” he grumbled under his breath as he took it from her. He’d enjoyed many picnic lunches with desirable young ladies, which usually ended quite pleasantly, but never a breakfast. If he’d ever shared a breakfast with a woman, it was because they woke in the same bed after a very enjoyable night, and they partook of the meal while still beneath the covers. “By chance did your premonition reveal where I might find her?”

  Brighid grimaced. “No. Just the water, beach, near an outcropping of rocks.”

  “He nodded. That could be any portion of the miles long coast. But he’d search every inch of it if there was a chance he’d find his sketching fairy.

  * * *

  As quietly as she could manage, Anna rose and dressed by the waning moon. She didn’t dare risk waking anyone, especially her uncle. Even though he’d given her permission to go to the coast today, she’d been very careful not to set a time. If Anna had it her way, it’d be a full day excursion.

  Her easel had been packed away the night before, along with her paints, pencils, brushes, canvases and paper that had been loaded into a satchel. She didn’t just want to sketch the sun rising on the water, but paint it too.

  After she was dressed comfortably, in a presentable dress, but not one of her best in the event she dripped paint, which she usually did, Anna slipped into her sturdy boots and quietly slipped from her room. She was careful to close the door gently behind her and not let the wooden box containing her easel or her satchel hit the wall as she made her way to the kitchen.

  All she needed now was a jug of water for both drinking and rinsing her brushes. After she gathered the last items, she silently let herself out of the house and started on her trek to the beach. The satchel was growing heavy, but it would be lighter when she returned with the water gone. Still, she’d haul something twice its weight to be able to sit in peace and paint, far away from her unpleasant uncle.

  The tall grasses swayed in the early morning breeze and the sky was just beginning to lighten in anticipation of the sun rising over the horizon. Anna considered getting closer to the beach, but from this spot, on the slightly raised hill, she had an excellent view of the rocks jutting into the ocean, the narrow, sandy beach, the water beyond, the white capped waves, gently rolling to shore.

  She filled her lungs with the salty air and listened to the early morning birds come awake as she set up her easel before a fallen log. This is where she would sit and paint until she was forced to return to the vicarage.

  Folded just inside her satchel was the sketch she always kept with her. Anna opened it to view the face from last year. She would meet him this year and maybe, just maybe, he’d let her paint him instead of just sketch his features.

  She chuckled and folded the parchment, putting it away again so it didn’t fly off in the ocean breeze. Perhaps after today she should return to Marisdùn to paint. It wasn’t as if anyone would think it strange since she’d spent hours in the gardens before. The staff would assume she was doing what she always did, painting flowers or sketching statues, while she simply waited for him to return. Besides, why should she wait until the masquerade when he could be there right now?

  Chapter 3

  “I know, Freyja,” Thorn patted his mare’s neck. “You’re anxious to run and so am I.” He glanced about, looking toward the sea. Until a short time ago, it was too dark to see in the blackness of the waning night. David had been riding carefully, and slowly, not willing to risk injury to his mare on the unfamiliar road. But now the sun was finally starting to rise and the sky was beginning to lighten.

  Freyja could barely contain her energy. A racehorse at heart, but without the necessary speed to win a race. Her bloodlines, on the other hand, had rung true and Freyja’s son won him more than one purse this past fall. “What do you say, girl. Shall we race?”

  The mare tossed her head in answer and David leaned forward, loosening his tight hold and let her go. With little encouragement, she took off at full speed, down the road, taking him further away from Torrington Abbey. Her hooves pounded the road, kicking up dirt in her wake and David couldn’t help but grin. He hadn’t ridden like this in a few weeks. It hadn’t been possible with all the travel, and when he was on an open road, there were other conveyances about too. This early in the morning, it was just Freyja and him.

  Giving Freyja free reign, he let her go until she decided to slow, growing tired from the exertion, and then David straightened in his saddle and looked around. They were miles down the coast, and this promised to be a brilliant day, especially if Brighid’s predictions came true. But, before he looked for his fairy, he needed to rest his horse. After spotting a clump of trees a bit up the road, he led Freyja toward it. With this much greenery there must be a fresh water source close. It didn’t take him long and soon he found a gentle stream that led toward the sea. He led Freyja forward and allowed her to drink her fill, then rest before continuing on his search.

  Taking her reigns in his gloved hands again, David led the mare back to the road and then toward the sea. Brighid had said beach and as the tide was going out, he decided it was better to ride along the water’s edge instead of trying to see down from the road since it often curved away from the sea.

  Slowly they picked their way down the jagged rocks until reaching sand and then he and Freyja turned back in the direction towards Torrington and the two rode along the beach as he searched the area for a golden haired fairy.

  “I’m beginning to believe the little witch’s premonition wasn’t accurate,” Thorn said as he patted Freyja�
��s neck after they’d covered half the distance they’d originally traveled. Though Brighid couldn’t exactly be considered little at the moment, not that he’d ever say such a thing to Chetwey or his wife. She was a witch, after all.

  The mare tossed her head and neighed as if in agreement.

  Though disappointment was beginning to settle around him, David couldn’t be upset about his early morning ride. It’d been pleasant to be out in the cool, early morning, practically alone in the world with his mare. The only life around him were the bird’s chirping and the few fishing boats that dotted the horizon. Peaceful.

  An outcropping of rocks jutted into the water just up ahead, with barely enough room to ride his horse around. Jumping from Freyja’s back, Thorn took her reigns and led her through the shallow water and around the stone to the beach. He studied the area and wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have taken the road instead. What if he missed her from being down here?

  After letting go of the reigns and hooking them around the saddle, confident Freyja would not run off, Thorn climbed the rocks until he stood atop a boulder. More waves were coming in and Freyja wandered further onto the sand. Shielding his eyes against the glare of the rising sun on the sea, David turned slowly, and halted.

  There she was. His fairy, minus the gossamer wings, wearing a pale muslin dress. Her golden curls danced on the wind and she was seated in tall grass in front of an easel, staring out at the sea.

  The wind picked up and his artist pushed the hair from her face.

  Just as he turned to get down from the rocks so that he could go to her, a wave crashed into it, soaking his legs and making the stone slippery as ice. And before he could find his footing, Thorn tumbled into the sea.

  * * *

  “Was that a horse?” Anna was certain she heard the whinny of a horse and glanced behind her, but nobody was on the road. Then she looked to the beach. Sure enough, a lovely brown mare was standing there, saddled and nosing about the few grasses growing along the rocks.