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should not have involved you. Bad breeding there.” She sniffed and narrowed her eyes at him.
    “I could hardly avoid it, Mother.” Aubrey realized he was getting off track. “But there was talk at my club afterwards. Interesting talk.” He realized that he had clenched a fist, his whole body tense. He deliberately relaxed, knowing that she would recognize his tension and take advantage of it.
    She just sipped her chocolate, her eyes studying him over the rim. Lady Lovell was an old adversary and Aubrey needed to be careful. She was so much better at this than he was.
    “I supposed you would like to hear what the gossip was at my club?”
    “Not really. I don’t care for gossip.”
    “It was about her parentage.” Aubrey drew in a deep breath and waited.
    Another sniff and his mother put the cup back down on the tray firmly. She picked up a biscuit, breaking off a small piece and brought it to her lips.
    “Mother, why did you tell me that she was my half-sister?”
    “Did I?” She did not look up, just studied the piece of biscuit.
    Aubrey held on to his temper. “Yes, you did. But she’s not, that was never true.” He clenched his fists again, but this time he did not try to relax them. “Why would you tell me that?”
    “Oh, Aubrey, what does it matter now? It’s over and done with.” She sighed and finally looked up at him. “You were too young and she was not good enough for you, but you were infatuated with her. I did not mean for you to run away to Italy though.”
    “No, mother, it is not over and done with.” Aubrey strode to the window and looked out, wanting to put his fist through the glass. Five years gone by, he thought, five years lost.
    “Really, Lovell, you are making too much of this,” his mother sounded nervous. “You have moved on, the girl, I presume, has moved on so what is the difference now?”
    Aubrey whirled around. “What is the difference? Five years that I lost with the woman that I love.”
    Lady Lovell’s eyes widened, but she attempted to regain the upper hand. “Lovell, you are acting like a child deprived of his favorite toy. We do not marry for love, but for money or status. From what I hear, you can have the girl as your mistress. Meanwhile, I can look for a suitable wife for you, now that you have returned home. I had already thought of a few young ladies of appropriate rank….” Her voice trailed off as she took in the look on his face. Aubrey had never been one to put on appearances as many of the Ton did, but his face had turned to stone, a mask that she could not penetrate.
    “I think you have said and done enough. I would like you out of the house. Perhaps your sister would be amenable for a visit, but I do not care especially where you go. I just want you out of my affairs,” as he strode towards the door, he tossed back over his shoulder, “Immediately.”
    He stood trembling outside his mother’s door and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to decide what to do next. Scattered thoughts and visions ran through his mind and he rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension there.
    He walked down the hall to the room at the back that he used as a studio. It was well lit, suitable for his painting. He had had the carpet removed and his easel stood, ready for him to work, but he definitely was not in the mood to put brush to canvas now. He walked over to a stack of canvases piled up against the wall and started to go through them, pulling them out one by one. The first few were landscapes, views of the Tuscan hills or the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Then he reached the portraits and he took them and placed them in a row against the wall, displaying them to his view.
    They were all the same person, a young girl with chestnut hair and laughing brown eyes. Two were formal sittings, but the rest showed her in more natural poses, picking wild flowers or picnicking on a lawn. Another showed her sitting on a tree branch, laughing, with