10. Chapter Ten

Wellspring, always the gentleman, did not berate Evan upon discovering the missing supplies. He'd simply said, "No worries, old chap. 'Tis a lovely day for a constitutional. So let us return to Yardley Manor and retrieve whatever we need." He'd wrinkled his nose. "But first, we shall dispose of that apple. I suppose that is what I've been smelling."

Evan only felt the fool for a moment before congratulating himself. It was no easy task to flee his room, leaving behind a willing female. What man in the same situation wouldn't have forgotten dashed art supplies?

No harm was done. They'd tossed the apple to a flock of flying sea rats, then returned to Yardley Manor, where they filled the satchel with pencils and biscuits. Wellspring had also asked two footmen to carry an easel and chairs to the overlook.

Therefore, there was a silver lining to Evan's error. The chairs were much more comfortable than the ground, and he and Wellspring sat in front of the easel, snacking on biscuits. The sun warmed Evan's skin, and the salt air cleansed his lungs. After the stress of the afternoon, his heartbeat and breathing slowed to their normal pace.

There'd been the additional inducement of running into the ladies, who were on their way to sea-dip. Their colorful dresses, set against the picturesque village street, were a painter's dream. Katrina had refused to meet his gaze, but it didn't stop him from noticing every detail about her. Once alone, he would do his best to capture her on paper—Sea Beauty in Purple.

For now, he must concentrate on his friend, who painted like a child. Still, he should make sure Wellspring rid himself of any doubts if he was to express himself freely. Evan sorted through memories of his best schoolmasters, eventually finding the perfect words of encouragement.

"The first piece of wisdom I would like to impart is that art is in the eye of the beholder. And if you are true to yourself, your art will find its audience," Evan said.

"Perchance." Wellspring shrugged, then blushed. "At least Robert Dickens finds me talented."

Good heavens, Springy was in denial. It was not unheard of for men to have feelings for one another.

However, acting on such things destroyed many great men when their preferences became public knowledge. Lord Bishop of Clogher had been flogged and imprisoned for committing unnatural acts with the same sex. And in 1810, the Bow Street Runners raided the White Swan, a notorious molly club. Over two dozen men had been arrested on suspicion of sodomy. Unfortunately, men attracted to the same sex experienced unwarranted prejudice. In Evan's humble opinion, it was nobody's business. However, he counted his blessings that he was a man attracted to women. It made life so much easier. Unless that woman was Katrina Harrington. He huffed.

On second thought, he would not meddle. Wellspring was safer in a state of denial, a woman by his side.

Evan embraced his newfound serious schoolmaster demeanor. "You must find your perspective. Simply study the sea for a moment."

Wellspring's jaw and brow tensed as he peered at the water. The poor man's brain might explode out his ears if he continued to strain so hard.

Evan chuckled. "Relax, Springy. This is art, not a life-or-death battle."

"Speak for yourself. I am attempting to woo one of the most beautiful women in England, and I paint and draw like a half-wit."

Was that jealousy twisting Evan's gut? Did he wish to woo her?

Nay!

Katrina was a woman who required commitment and excessive attention from a man. Evan was not that man. He was nary capable of commitment or love. Now, lust? He could manage lust in spades.

Concentrate, you fool, he scolded himself. "Tell me what shapes you see," he encouraged.

Wellspring squinted, eventually shaking his head. "I see water and the sea."

"But what shapes are they?" Evan asked.

Wellspring blinked a few times. "Water and sea shaped."

Evan suppressed his sigh. "Tell me about the colors."

"Oh, I know that answer." Wellspring lifted his chin and beamed. "Blue."

"Hmm." There was a lot of blue. "But do you not see different shades of blue? And white. There are variants of green, pink, purple, and black. Really 'tis quite colorful. Feel the colors."

"Feel the colors? What the deuces does that mean?" Wellspring's brow furrowed. "I am afraid I only see light blue and dark blue."

Obviously, Evan was a shite art don. However, frustration was pointless, so he did his best to dispense tidbits of knowledge.

"Take breaks quite often. Step back and compare your drawing to the image. I also find it helpful to look away for a moment or two. It allows me to see my art through fresh eyes."

"I dare say, you are quite the instructor," Wellspring declared.

Nay, he was still rubbish, but he thanked Wellspring for the compliment and continued to dole out pedagogical techniques.

At last, he stumbled upon a splendid idea.

Evan removed the small brass telescope from his bag and handed it to the earl. "I use this if I am looking at something from a distance. It helps me see details. I can study the lines and colors from a different perspective and delve deep into my image."

"Why, that is brilliant." Wellspring brought the scope to his eye. He murmured sounds of amazement as he panned the view. "'Tis as if I am actually in the sea."

"Exactly," Evan said.

"What the dickens?" Wellspring dropped the telescope to his side.

Had he seen a murder? A headless whale? Whatever he'd witnessed, it must be horrible to elicit such a wide-eyed, wide-mouthed look of horror.

"What is wrong?" Evan asked.

"I can see the women," Wellspring said.

Women! "What women?"

"Lady Katrina, Anna, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Justine. They are sea dipping."

Evan rubbed his hands together. "Are they naked?"

"No!" Wellspring's chin snapped indignantly.

"Can you see through their frocks?"

Wellspring balked. "Good heavens, man. Bad form. What is wrong with you?"

"A million things."

Mostly, he was a leering lech who loved women. Especially naked women. Or women in see-through wet frocks. Evan grasped the telescope and shoved it against his eye. He searched the beach until he found them.

Katrina stood on the steps of a wagon. He adjusted the lens until her image was clear. She wore nothing but a white shift.

"Eaton, how ungentlemanly and indecent to spy on them." Wellspring reached for the scope.

Evan knocked Wellspring's hand away. "Think of it as watching birds. Or sharks. Or any other animal in its natural habitat."

"Ladies are not animals," Wellspring declared.

Well… Evan was an animal. A randy, libidinous, and prurient beast.

"Bloody hell." Evan roared with laughter. "The dipper just shoved Katrina Harrington into the water."

"Good heavens," Wellspring said.

'Twas all quite humorous until Katrina stayed under the water for far too long. Evan needed to save her. But there was no way he could reach her in time. The dipper didn't seem concerned in the least. She crossed her arms over her bosom and grinned.

"Is Katrina safe?" Wellspring asked.

Evan swallowed bile. If only he could fly to her rescue.

Popping from the water, sputtering and spitting, Katrina tossed her hair back as if she were a mermaid. Then Katrina Harrington did the most unexpected thing ever. She laughed.

Evan pulled the lens from his eye, refocused, and then checked again. Katrina held a hand to her chest as she threw her head back and chortled.

"Is she safe?" Wellspring asked again.

"Um." Evan blinked a few times. "I believe so, for she is laughing."

The spectacular vision poked at his heart, which warmed, then flitted about too much for his liking.

The dipper cradled Katrina in her arms and dunked her—over and over again. Each time Katrina bobbed her head out of the water, her glee traveled across the expanse of beach, into the telescope, and landed in Evan's gut with an earth-shattering punch.

"You should allow the women their privacy and concentrate on my lessons," Wellspring said.

Awestruck by the swimming siren, Evan ignored him.

"I doubt Harrington will appreciate you spying on his wife, aunt, and cousin. And I would prefer you didn't leer at the woman I am presently courting."

Evan reluctantly dropped the telescope to his side and attempted to focus on his pupil.

On their stroll back to Yardley Manor, Evan stopped short and thunked his forehead with the heel of his hand. He'd not even checked to see if he could see through Katrina's wet frock. First, he'd been worried about her, then consumed by her joyous laugh and what it might sound like up close. What could he do to make her laugh like that forever?

"Pfft." Forever was a very long time, and he had to survive tonight while trying not to imagine what color her nipples were as his clueless mate—who had no interest in said nipples—wooed her.

Frigging bollocks. It would be a long evening. Not only that, he had yet to deal with Greyson's machinations.