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cross your mind.’
    ‘That’s a gross slander, Sir Willard. I abide by the rules of the Society. The four of us fight on equal terms. I would never stoop to subterfuge in any way,’ he lied, bristling with righteous indignation. ‘I had no knowledge of the fact that Christopher had been engaged by the artist and would never use him to further my ends. Were I to attempt such a thing, he would reject the notion outright. My brother is no puritan but neither does he take any delight in the chase. The mere whisper of what our Society was about would discountenance Christopher. He believes in love and marriage.’
    ‘So do I,’ said Sir Willard, ‘when occasion serves. But I still fear that you may have stolen a march on us, Henry. If your brother calls on Villemot while that Jewell among women is there, he will be able to bring back gossip about her that only you will hear.’
    ‘Christopher is not given to passing on gossip.’
    ‘I agree,’ said Prout. ‘I’ve met him. Henry’s brother is a decent, honest, conscientious young man and, unless I am mistaken, he has another glaring defect – he is a devout Christian.’
    ‘That’s true, Elkannah. Our father is forever holding Christopher up as an example to me. My brother leads a good life while I prefer to lead an adventurous one.’
    ‘If you want someone to worry about, Sir Willard, it is not him. The real danger comes from within the Society.’
    Sir Willard was puzzled. ‘How can that be?’
    ‘The person to watch is Jocelyn.’
    ‘Why – what has he been up to?’
    ‘Telling the truth,’ said Prout, ‘and it unnerved me. When we heard that Araminta had been married, all of us were shaken tothe core but we three have at least accepted the situation and determined to make the best of it. Jocelyn will not accept it.’
    ‘He must,’ said Henry.
    ‘Facts are facts,’ added Sir Willard. ‘Araminta will not divorce her husband for our benefit.’
    ‘More’s the pity!’
    ‘Jocelyn wants to effect his own divorce,’ said Prout. ‘We spent last night together and I saw him in his cups. I’ve never known him so roused and belligerent.’
    ‘What did he tell you?’
    ‘That he’ll not let anyone stand between him and Araminta. He’s set his heart on winning her love. Jocelyn told me that his mind is made up. If he cannot enjoy her favours by fair means, he’ll not scruple to resort to foul ones. His meaning was clear,’ warned Prout. ‘To achieve his ambition, he’s even prepared to murder Sir Martin Culthorpe.’
     
    When she was finally released from the long morning session in the studio, Araminta Culthorpe was grateful. She was not merely spared the discomfort of sitting in the same position for an hour at a time, she was liberated from the searching gaze of Jean-Paul Villemot. The artist did not upset her again with any suggestive remarks but she no longer felt completely safe in his presence. Their relationship had subtly changed and Araminta needed to get away in order to examine the changes from a distance. As the carriage bore her back home to Westminster, she reflected on what had happened and speculated on what might come at a future meeting.
    The problem confronting her was simple. Should she or should she not confide in her husband? And if so, what exactly should she tell him? Araminta could hardly say that she felt threatened in the artist’s company because that was not true. In essence, all that had happened was that he had made some inappropriate comments. Other ladies would no doubt have accepted them as compliments but, as a young woman newlymarried, she had been somehow unable to do so. She had felt vulnerable. Jean-Paul Villemot, in her opinion, had overstepped the bounds of propriety.
    What she had to calculate, she decided, was her husband’s reaction. If she told him that she had been offended by the artist’s behaviour, he would cancel the portrait at once and engage someone else to paint it, and Araminta did not