YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL
the beginning | chapter eight“an influence or a muse, perhaps”
“IS THERE ANY REASON I HAVE BEEN CALLED to the conservatory?” Rupert asked as he placed his dress coat on the back of an armchair, entering the space Clarissa had now named her art studio since it was the only room with a good amount of natural lighting and beautiful views to fuel her inspirations.
Clarissa turned her head from where she had been studying an entirely blank canvas on a spotless easel she was sure nobody had even touched. For the moment, Clarissa had tied her hair back in a relaxed top bun that she was sure would not be approved of in London society and had an apron on which actually belonged to one of the staff since they did not have any painter’s clothes in the manor’s excessive storage. What she did find in there, though, was a paint pallet and piles of all sizes of paint brushes. Aliah had done her a service and had collected, what looked like, an unlimited amount of art supplies from the shop in town.
Rupert walked over to where the girl stood in front of the easel in the corner of the room where the windowed-walls met to outreach into the acres of land down to the river past the woods. She had not answered his previous question so he asked another. “Forgive me if I am wrong, but I believe you are meant to put paint on the canvas,” he informed her cockily.
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YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL | e.b.
FanfictionGrosvenor Square, 1813 Dearest reader, the time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season. Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactl...