Page 32 of Courting Claudia
“Did he invite all his illustrators?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps.”
Poppy narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you’re being completely honest with me.” Then she smiled. “But if you want to keep your little secrets, I’ll be content to speculate from a distance.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. You never told me how your meeting with Richard went. Did you kiss him?”
Perfect. As if she wasn’t nervous enough, and Poppy had to bring up that dreadful incident. She recounted the story of her failed attempt at kissing Richard. Poppy simply sat across from her, staring with mouth agape.
“He pushed you off of him?” Poppy asked incredulously.
“Yes. He was quite offended.” Claudia shook her head. “It was a shameful idea. I shouldn’t have even thought it, much less attempted it. There is a reason men are the instigators in relationships. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“That’s foolish, Claudia. He’s a wretched man. There is no rule, unwritten or not, that says that only a man can instigate kisses. Richard is your beau—or is supposed to be. He’s been courting you for a year, for heaven’s sake, with the intention to marry you. There is absolutely no reason why he wouldn’t let you kiss him. Except pure meanness.”
“I don’t think that’s it, Poppy. I think he was affronted that I even attempted it. I think the thought of kissing me repulses him.”
Poppy smacked her hands onto her lap. “Well, that’s simply ridiculous. And even if it were true, then it’s a testament to how wrong Richard is for you.”
The carriage rocked to a stop, which was perfect timing because there was no reason to discuss Richard with Poppy. Her friend would never approve of the match.
“I suppose that means we’re here,” Claudia said, eyeing the carriage door.
“Yes, I suppose it does. Are we going to get out?”
Claudia put her hand on the door, then stopped. “If my father knew about this, he would kill me.”
“If you always did as your father instructed, your life would be dreadful. I’m here with you. I realize that doesn’t offer you much of a buffer, considering he doesn’t exactly approve of me, but it’s only an art exhibit.”
“I don’t know, Poppy.”
“Come on, it will be fun.” Poppy stepped down from the carriage and began climbing the steps to the town home.
Claudia quickly followed Poppy up the stairs, then handed their invitation to the butler who opened the door.
“The ballroom is on the second floor,” he said in a severely nasal tone. “That is where the majority of the paintings are hung.” He took their cloaks. “You will also find some hanging in the drawing room, the study, the library, and the billiard room.”
Claudia shivered from the lack of her cloak; the cap sleeves of her pale pink dress barely covered her shoulders. She and Poppy climbed the wide staircase. Poppy stopped in front of the marble statue on the landing. It was a man. A naked man—holding a lute or some sort of string instrument. Claudia felt her cheeks warm, so she quickly averted her eyes, only to find Derrick standing behind them.
“Ladies, I’m glad you could come,” he said.
Poppy turned and greeted him.
He kissed both their hands, lingering a little longer on Claudia’s—which pleased her.
“Tell me, Mr. Middleton, who are these artists?” Poppy asked. “Claudia couldn’t remember.”
“They call themselves the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. I’ve known one of them since he was a scrap of a kid. I went to school with his older brother.”
“Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood,” Poppy repeated. “That’s quite a name.”
“Yes, well, they fancy themselves as anarchists against the Royal Academy. They’ve only just formed their group, and this is their first showing.”
He led them to the ballroom where they began their tour. A variety of paintings hung from the walls and sat upon easels for display. There were only a handful of people in the room. Claudia recognized a few, but wasn’t certain of their names. A young man with wavy blond hair waved at Derrick, then walked toward them.
“Derrick, who are these two lovely ladies?” he asked.