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but one thing was certain. Those weren't the flirtatious words the women of the ton would use to describe him. It seemed at least as far as men were concerned Miss Matthews was artless and without guile. Unbelievable. And damned unlikely. But I'll discover whatever game she s up to soon enough.
    "Perhaps you'd sit under the tree?" she asked scanning the immediate area. "Prop your back against the trunk and make yourself comfortable."
    She gathered her supplies, and in spite of feeling rather foolish, Austin did as he was bid.
    "How's this?" he asked once he found a comfortable spot.
    She knelt in front of him. "You look tense, your grace. Try to relax. This won't hurt a bit, I promise."
    Austin adjusted his position and drew a deep breath.
    "That's much better." Her eyes roamed his face. "Now, I'd like you to reminisce for me."
    "Reminisce?"
    Amusement sparkled in the eyes. "Yes. It's an American word that means 'to recall past events.'"
    Suspicion pricked at him. Was she trying to glean information from him?
    Keeping his expression carefully blank he asked "What do you want to know?"
    "Why, nothing, your grace. Just think of one of your fondest memories while I sketch. It will help me to capture your expression correctly."
    "I see." But he didn't see at all. Fond memory? Of what? He'd sat for several portraits, all of which hung in the gallery at Bradford Hall, and he'd had to do nothing save sit immobile for interminable lengths of time. He searched his mind and came up totally blank.
    "Surely you have one fond thought lurking in there somewhere, your grace."
    Not bloody likely. But he wasn't about to let her know that. Determined to dig up a happy thought, Austin concentrated while she continued to watch him.
    "Just let your mind wander . . . and relax," she said softly.
    His gaze moved past her and settled on Myst grazing nearby. An image of William popped into his mind . . . William, at thirteen, running to the stables behind Austin, and Robert close behind his older brothers . . .
    "You're sporting a most intriguing smile," she said. "Will you share your thoughts with me?"
    He considered refusing, but decided no harm could come in telling her.
    "I'm thinking about a grand adventure I shared with my brothers." Warmth spread through him as he recalled the day in vivid detail. "We were forced to flee to the stables after we'd schemed to force Caroline's sour-faced governess to resign her post. We'd rigged a barrel of flour and a bucket of water over the woman's bedchamber door. When she opened the door, her outraged screams shook the rafters. We hid in the hayloft and howled with laughter until we could barely breathe."
    "How old were you?"
    "I was fourteen. William was thirteen and Robert ten."
    The memory faded slowly, like a plume of smoke wafting on a gentle breeze.
    "What other mischief did you boys get into?"
    Another image immediately popped into his mind and a chuckle worked its way up his throat. "One day, that same summer, the three of us were walking by the lake when Robert, who's been a devil since the day he was born, dared William to shuck his clothes and jump in, an activity that our father strictly forbade. Not to be outdone, I immediately dared him to do the same. Within moments, we were all stripped bare, splashing and diving, enjoying the time of our lives. But we suddenly realized we weren't alone."
    "Oh, dear. Did your father come upon you?"
    "No, although that might have been better. It was our friend Miles, now the Earl of Eddington. He stood on the shore, his arms laden with our clothes and an unmistakable look in his eyes. We raced off in hot pursuit, but Miles was too fast. We were forced to sneak into the house, without a stitch on, through the kitchen." He shook his head and laughed. "We managed to avoid Father, but the kitchen staff had fodder for their gossip mill for months."
    His laughter faded and a rapid succession of memories flashed through his mind: he and William swimming together,