A Deal With a Duke by Tammy Andresen

Author:Tammy Andresen
Language: eng
Format: epub

CHAPTER TWELVE

Rath loaded the paintings into the back of the wagon, wondering what the hell was happening to him.

He could ill afford artwork and yet here he was. But the idea of ripping that painting of his father out of his mother’s room and hanging the river piece instead… It eased some of the tension inside. Could he make Cranston his own? Exorcise the demons of his past from the house?

He couldn’t remove those memories from his mind, but maybe, just maybe, he could remove them from his heart.

He shook his head. He’d thought the only way to do that would be to replace the fortune his father had pissed away and buy a home with no history. He’d assumed he wouldn’t marry, wouldn’t have children, never risk being the piece of shit father his had been.

But since Anna flitted into his life, a butterfly of breathless beauty, touching all the surfaces about him and leaving each one better than she’d found it, he was beginning to consider a different path…

He shook his head. He could hang a few pieces of new artwork in the house without abandoning his entire fucking plan.

With that in mind, he stepped back into the crowd, easily spotting Ken, Mira, and Anna chatting at another booth.

He joined them, silently watching as Anna admired every artisan, giving each one a compliment that was so specific to their work, their person, that she left all of them smiling with joy.

How did she do it?

By the end of the day, when they’d loaded into the carriage, he watched as she leaned her head on the frame, looking out the window, and he wished to have her head on his shoulder.

She’d sparkled today.

“Tired?”

She nodded. “I woke early. I was too excited to sleep.”

He cleared his throat. “It was that exciting?”

She nipped at her lip. “My family was always attempting to survive. There have not been many opportunities for such activities. I really enjoyed seeing other artists’ finished products.”

He leaned toward her with a shake of his head. She was pulling at his sympathies again. He wanted to promise to take her to another fair, or a gallery opening. He didn’t even like galleries. In fact, he was the least likely man of any he’d ever met to be seen puttering about galleries.

“And it’s an excellent opportunity for you to make friends,” Ken added with a smile.

“Friends?” he asked, something unpleasant sliding down his spine.

“Mr. Fairfield,” Anna said absently. “He was there today.”

“When did you speak with him?” But it came out as a growl, an animal kind of sound. Which was ridiculous. Fairfield had to be seventy if he was a day and the man was completely harmless.

But some need to keep Anna to himself had him spitting out his words.

“When you were loading the paintings,” Anna said with a shrug. “He came to ask me about Mrs. Worthington’s work.”

“Why is Mr. Fairfield asking you about art?” The man was a farmer without a creative bone in his body. Something was off and his nerves tingled with unease.

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