Part 17 (2/2)
He poured more brandy and downed half of it without coming up for air.
Diana began to edge towards the door, uncomfortably aware that Aaron might well be as ”eccentric” as Maggie. Being alone with him suddenly made her very nervous.
With an abrupt movement and a grunt, he sat up straight, staring gla.s.sy-eyed into the middle distance. ”Yes,” he whispered. ”Yes, of course.”
”Aaron? Are you all right?”
”I will be.” His gaze fixed on her, sharp and intense. ”You must be my model, Diana. I don't know why I didn't realize before.”
”I don't think so, Aaron.” She was poised for a rapid retreat when he spoke again but his words froze her in place.
”I misunderstood when I saw you in New York.”
The lump in her throat made it difficult for Diana to speak. He'd seen her? In New York? She managed only one word. ”Where?”
”At the hall where Ben spoke. I followed you home.” A wicked grin flashed across Aaron's features at her start of surprise. ”You never even noticed me. I thought you were a threat, but I was wrong. I see that now.”
Appalled, Diana tried to sift through all the unexpected revelations he'd thrown at her. ”Were you the man Ben accosted in Union Square Park?”
”Heard about that, did you? Big brother read me the riot act for being there. Then he gave me train fare home.”
As fast as one mystery was solved, more questions cropped up. Retreat forgotten, Diana approached the overstuffed chair. ”Aaron, did you leave New York after Ben gave you money?”
Before he could answer, even supposing he intended to, the door of the studio opened and Ben strode through it. In one glance, he absorbed Diana's presence, the nearly empty bottle, and the equally empty gla.s.s in his brother's lax hand.
”You know brandy aggravates your gout,” he said.
”Always the physician, Leave me be, Brother. I am attempting to commune with my muse.”
”Go back to the house, Diana.”
”No. You can't have her. I understand now. She's perfect.”
Diana resisted Ben's effort to take her arm, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the carbolic he'd washed with after seeing his last patient.
”She must pose for me, Brother.” Aaron sounded buoyantly cheerful.
”Over my dead body,” Ben declared, and tried again to tow Diana away. She resisted.
In spite of the fact that she'd longed to be rescued only moments earlier, it galled her to be treated like some recalcitrant child. Ben Northcote had no right to dictate to her. Besides, the fact that he hadn't bothered to mention his brother's presence in Manhattan left her out of charity with him.
Diana's tone was just as forceful as the one he'd used to his brother. ”I am capable of making my own decisions.”
”Take a good look at these paintings, Diana.”
”They are extraordinary.”
”Are you saying you're willing to take your clothes off for him?”
”I never -- ”
”What did you think you'd be wearing? He doesn't make a habit of painting women in more than their skin.”
”You're making a great deal of fuss over nothing.” She glared at him but in spite of her irritation, she found this show of temper enlightening. He would never make such a fuss if he didn't care about her.
”Shall we discuss this in private?” He indicated Aaron, grinning at them from his chair. ”I did intend that we talk.”
”There are a number of things I have to say to you, too, Ben Northcote.” She didn't budge. ”To start with, I want to know why you lied to me.”
”About what?”
”You didn't tell me Aaron was in New York. You never mentioned that Maggie is -- ” She broke off, uncertain how to tell a man she thought his mother was mad. If she was wrong.... She drew in a deep breath and started again, her words clipped. ”Aaron rescued me after Maggie locked me in your family vault.”
”Mother is a tad eccentric.” He sounded more amused than apologetic and not at all surprised.
Eccentric? Diana was beginning to dislike that word. Where, she wondered, did Ben draw the line between eccentric and insane?
”I believe,” she said aloud, ”that I deserve a better explanation than that for what she did.”
”All right.” His tension was less obvious now but he kept glancing at his brother, obviously wis.h.i.+ng Diana would agree to leave Aaron's studio.
She gave Ben's hand, still clamped around her upper arm, a pointed look. After a long, fulminating stare of his own, he released her. Ostentatiously rubbing what she expected was going to be a spectacular bruise, she turned away from Ben to address his brother.
”I'm flattered, Aaron. No one's ever wanted to paint me before. But surely a professional would be better.”
”Oh, yes. Plenty of them around. They're all wh.o.r.es, unfortunately. But there's something special about you, Diana.... ”Under the intensity of his brother's scowl, Aaron's voice trailed off. His mouth shaped itself into a pout.
Diana had never before seen a grown man sulk, but there was no other word for Aaron's att.i.tude.
”Oh, go away,” he muttered. ”Both of you.”
Before his brother could change his mind, Ben whisked Diana out of the studio.
”Where are we going?” Digging her heels into the mud didn't slow him down in the least.
”Back to the house.”
”I'd rather go back to the hotel. I don't feel ... safe here.” And she was heartily sick of being dragged hither and yon by members of the Northcote family.
Ben came to an abrupt halt in the shade of the porte-cochere. ”There are perfectly logical explanations for everything,” he said.
”For keeping the gate locked? Am I a prisoner here?”
”You can leave any time you want, but I'd hoped you'd want to stay.”
It was difficult to resist that look, that tone of voice, but Diana made the effort. ”Ben, your mother locked me in a crypt.” she couldn't help wondering if Maggie was mad, and Aaron, too. And if they were insane, then what about Ben? A Dr. Jekyll, after all?
<script>