Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon Seducing Stephen (pdf)

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asleep.
We old people do that, Peter said.
Stephen only smiled. Especially old people who stay out late.
After Stephen handed over the thick portfolios, he backed away. He stood gazing up at a
painting of hunting dogs with pheasants in their mouths on the wall, but his stiff back showed he
wanted to lean close to Peter and describe each sketch. Peter paid no heed to his tense presence
as he leafed through the pages.
Seducing Stephen 55
Stephen was very good, yet he had two conflicting ways of drawing. Some drawings were
precise and detailed technical drafts. Others were wild, free pictures, with character and energy.
Such different hands you display here, he said. Is that because you haven't found your style
yet? Or are some of these for work?
Some are for work. Stephen turned away from the hunt picture over the fireplace to face
him.
And the others?
Stephen shrugged. It's an indulgence. Dangerous, perhaps.
What can you mean? They're all lovely.
Thank you. Stephen didn't sound enthusiastic. He wrapped the fingers of one hand
around his other wrist as if guarding a wound. I was born left-handed.
Many people are, Peter said. You make it sound as if it were the mark of the devil.
It's not exactly normal, Stephen said. And it might be the reason for my
other& aberrations.
I've never heard that theory. I'm right-handed, and uh&
I know you are, said Stephen, and Peter wasn't surprised the boy was an observer.
Peter turned the page to the last drawing, a finely done portrait of his own face in repose. Only
the small lines between his brows showed tension or age. He looked noble and kind in that
drawing. Not like a drooling middle-aged man caught napping in the middle of the morning.
So some drawings are done with one hand and some with the other? he asked at last.
Stephen nodded. That one of you is both. Left and right.
Did you have to be trained out of using your left?
Oh, yes. But I knew early on I had to hide my left-handed use from my father. He can be
superstitious. He twirled his pencil between the fingers of his right hand. I think it might be
another sign of why I'm so& why I don't fit in.
Or a sign that you've got twice the skill of most people, Peter said acidly. Which hand
does this? He held up the plans for a house that consisted of neat, ruled lines.
My right hand makes the careful lines, or I'd show everyone I was born left-handed.
56 Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon
You'd also show that under that polite, diffident surface you've erected with years of
training, you're a wild young thing, chafing at constraints.
Jesus, why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? The radiant smile Stephen gave him
practically burned his eyes.
A voice spoke from the doorway. Ah, there you are, Northrup, Peregrine. Up for a game
of billiards, gentlemen?
I'll just work, sir, if that's all right. Stephen held up a drawing tablet. I promised my
father some potential plans.
Fine, fine. Pratt waved a hand and turned away.
Peter rose and joined him. I'll take you on, Pratt. Should we play for money? I vow if we
play long enough you'll eventually owe me your estate.
Pratt smiled, but he was distracted. They walked down the hall until Pratt stopped abruptly
and looked all around. It won't do, he said in a low voice.
Pardon?
I saw that lad's face. He's& He looked besotted. And I think something's going on.
Peter didn't want to lie to his friend, but he had to protect Stephen, the young idiot. He
loves his work. Did you hear him talk about bridges last night to the vicar?
Pratt smiled briefly. He's a good lad. Brian doesn't make friends easily, and Peregrine
seems truly fond of him. But he's from a class of people who don't easily forgive sin of any sort.
Including being born left-handed, Peter muttered.
What are you talking about?
Never mind. Finish your lecture, Pratt.
I promise, not a lecture, just a statement. Master Peregrine doesn't need any sort of
influences that could lead him away from the straight and narrow path, Northrup. He's dependent
upon his father, whom I've met. Peregrine senior is solemn and humorless and hardworking. I'm
sure he loves his son, but the man passes judgment with the zeal of a reformist preacher. Pratt
sighed and started toward the billiard room again.
Seducing Stephen 57
And you think I could somehow corrupt Peregrine junior so his own father would disown
him? You do believe me powerful. His voice was light, but his stomach churned. Perhaps you
were right to say I should leave.
Pratt surprised him by agreeing. I hate to drive off my own friends, but I feel responsible
for the lad.
He's not a lad. He's a full-grown man who can make his own decisions. He didn't want to
be rude to Pratt, who'd always been a friend to him. But he most definitely wanted to rid himself
of the sensation that might have been guilt.
Oh, no. It's happened already? Pratt's eyes went wide, and he chewed on the edge of his
pudgy thumb.
Relax, Pratt. I will leave, just as you wish. Peter put his hand on the other man's upper
arm and gave him a quick squeeze. No harm has been done, I promise you. Let's play a game or
two, and then at lunch I'll recollect a sudden appointment I must keep in London. Will that suit?
Yes, it will. I am sorry, Northrup, but
No need. I understand entirely. One must drive off the wolves when one is caring for
lambs. He attempted a laugh, but it felt rusty. I think I should probably say good-bye to Mr.
Peregrine in private for five minutes, and then you should make a noisy and obvious entrance.
He pushed open the door to the billiard room and made for the rack of cues.
Pratt remained planted in the doorway. I wish you hadn't said that. Oh, blast it, Northrup,
tell me he's come to no harm or
Of course not. Peter selected an ebony cue and looked along its length to see if it was
bent. It would do. But he fancies himself my friend.
After so few days?
Indeed. They haven't been here long, have they? Peter leaned against the edge of the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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