An Invitation to Sin Read Online Free PDF Page A

into a corner of the room. Gradually she'd taken over more and more of it until two years ago her father had voluntarily and completely evacuated in favor of his smaller, if equally isolated, office on the ground floor behind the kitchen.
    She made straight for an unused sketch pad and carried it to one of the deep seats that circled half around the room beneath the windows. The conservatory gave her a good degree of light all day long, with perfect morning sun for painting and sketching subjects until just after noon.
    At the moment, she didn't want to paint. She wanted to sketch. Under normal circumstances she liked to have her subjects pose for the preliminary sketches, and at the very least she needed to observe them for more than five minutes. Today, though, she scarcely remembered to breathe as her pencil scratched across the pad.
    This subject was different—not just because it was for the most important portrait she would ever paint but because not many men had ever sat for her. Her father, of course, and Lord Eades dressed as King Arthur and various other historical figures, and Mr. Anderton, the village solicitor, who'd wanted a confidence-inspiring portrait of himself for his office. All older men, and men with whom she had been acquainted all her life.
    Her hands, however, didn't share any of her mind's hesitation. With quick, short strokes she formed the overall shape of Lord Zachary's head, then feathered in the dark, wavy hair. She generally didn't attempt the eyes without her subject being in front of her, but when she closed her own eyes she could see his clearly, light gray and amused despite the straight, sensual line of his mouth. They were remarkable eyes. Unforgettable.
    The conservatory door rattled and opened. Sisters began bouncing and skipping into the room, all of them chattering so fast and so loudly that they couldn't possibly be listening to anyone but themselves.
    She tucked her pencil behind her ear, quickly stifling her abrupt annoyance as she closed her sketch pad. "Will you please be quiet? You're going to shatter the windows."
    Julia sat beside her. "But didn't you see him?"
    Susan dragged over the painting stool and joined them.
    "He's the most handsome man I've ever set eyes on," she breathed.
    Grace plunked down on her other side. "Don't tell me you didn't notice him, Caro."
    "Of course I noticed him. I'd like to sketch him, I think. The letter from Monsieur Tannberg requested the portrait of an aristocrat. And he is definitely an aristocrat." She would have known that, she thought, even without hearing anyone calling him "my lord." His bearing, his confidence, the light in his eyes—she would have known.
    "I'd like to sketch him, too," Joanna said, giggling.
    "Or make a model out of clay," Julia suggested, her fair cheeks darkening.
    "Oh, yes, clay," Joanna seconded with a breathy sigh. "I could shape him with my hands."
    Violet made a face. " You make a model. I want to marry him."
    "You're barely fifteen, silly girl. He'll never marry you with the rest of us here." Julia gave a condescending laugh.
    "He won't marry you, either," Violet grumbled. "Caro's the oldest. She has to get married first."
    A low, uneasy flutter ran through Caroline's stomach. "I'm not marrying anyone," she stated, keeping her gaze on her closed sketch pad. He was in there, and she wanted to go back to working on him. "And you all know it. I'm going to the Tannberg Studio and paint portraits and travel the world."
    "Well, if he stays until after you go to Vienna, then I can marry him," Susan put in.
    "He has to ask you first, Susan." Julia shrugged. "Besides, he's probably betrothed to someone else already. How could he not be, handsome as he is? And wealthy, too, from the look of that carriage and his fine clothes.
    And another carriage with their luggage and servants is following."
    "Mama said he's not married." Violet still looked annoyed that her marriage plans had been so swiftly thwarted. "And he is