That brief glance was enough to show Sophie that she wasn’t considered a rival.
‘Sorry I’m late down, Luke darling,’ Eve said throatily, her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘I haven’t missed anything, have I?’ she asked maliciously.
Sophie revised her earlier opinion of this woman being beautiful; there was too much hardness about her and a cruel twist to her painted lips for her to merit such a description. Not that she didn’t look pure perfection in the green gypsy-style evening dress, there was just a hardness about her that marred that beauty.
‘You have missed being introduced to Miss Bedford,’ he informed her.
The black eyebrows arched. ‘The brat?’ She looked around. ‘Has she been sent to bed already? Oh well, spoilt kids aren’t amongst my favourite people anyway.’ She looked back at Sophie. ‘Do I know you?’
‘No,’ Sophie said stiffly.
Eve frowned. ‘I’ve seen you before, I’m sure of it. Are you a model too?’
‘You flatter me!’
‘Sophie!’ She looked up as she heard her name called, seeing Nicholas Sedgwick-Jones making his way towards her. She groaned inwardly as he beamed down at her, waiting for his opening line as she always did. ‘You’re looking particularly beautiful tonight,’ he gushed.
This time she did groan. Nicholas always said the same thing, it was only the time of day that changed. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t suspect his widowed mother of teaching it to him parrot-fashion before he came out every day; there was certainly no sincerity behind his words.
She made the introductions to the other couple, aware that Luke Vittorio regarded Nicholas with as much contempt as she did. Luckily they all started going in to dinner at that moment, although she didn’t think herself so lucky a few seconds later when Luke Vittorio offered her his arm to go in to dinner.
She had no choice but to accept. ‘Shouldn’t you be taking in your girl-friend?’ she said tartly once out of earshot of the other two.
‘I am sure Eve will be suitably entertained by your friend.’
As she could already hear Nicholas launching into an account of his life on his farm Sophie didn’t feel sure of any such thing. Nicholas bored her, so what he would do to the much more sophisticated model she had no idea. He was still enthusing about his favourite subject as they came into the dining-room, and Sophie felt almost sorry for the other girl as she saw her mother had placed them next to each other at dinner.
She didn’t feel so elated when she found herself seated next to Luke Vittorio. Her mother sat at the head of the table, Luke sitting to her left and Sophie next to him. Nicholas and Eve were sitting at the other end of the table.
‘Has Sophie managed to introduce herself yet?’ Rosemary asked Luke.
‘Oh yes,’ he nodded.
‘I think Mr Vittorio was under a mishapprehension, Mummy,’ Sophie said with relish, forking melon into her mouth.
‘About what, Sophie?’ her stepmother frowned.
‘About the age of your stepdaughter, Rosemary,’ Luke cut in. ‘I believed someone as beautiful as yourself could not possibly be the mother of a nineteen-year-old girl. Your stepdaughter seems to find my error amusing.’
‘Sophie is a naughty child.’ Rosemary put her hand intimately on his arm. ‘I hope you’ll consider her worthy of your talent.’
And Sophie hoped he wouldn’t! She had had enough of his arrogance already, let alone having to sit for him for possibly hours on end. ‘I’m sure Mr Vittorio is much too busy to paint me,’ she protested.
His dark eyes mocked her. ‘I have not yet made up my mind.’
She bristled angrily. ‘Well, I have,’ she said crossly. ‘I don’t want to be painted, by you or anyone else.’
‘Sophie!’ there was an angry flush to her stepmother’s smooth creamy skin. ‘You’ll do as you’re told.’
‘I do not paint unwilling subjects,’ Luke Vittorio stated haughtily.
Sophie felt sure that all the women he painted were more than willing, and not just to have their portrait painted. ‘Good,’ she smiled happily. ‘That lets me out.’
‘Sophie!’ once again Rosemary gasped.
‘I’m sure Mr Vittorio understands,’ Sophie said uncaringly.
‘And I’m just as sure he doesn’t,’ her stepmother’s voice was harsh. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke,’ she gave him a glowing smile, ’Sophie isn’t normally this rude.’
Only to people as arrogant and condescending as this man! ’Have I been rude?’ she queried with feigned innocence.
Rosemary’s mouth was set in an angry line. ‘You know very well you have.’
‘Then I apologise,’ she said in the same offhand manner she had carried out the rest of the conversation. ‘But I was only telling Mr Vittorio the way I felt.’
He gave her a cool look. ‘The fact that the portrait is to be a gift to your father is of no consequence to you?’
She blushed at his intended rebuke. ‘I’m sure Daddy will survive without it.’
‘I believe it was to have been a birthday present, an addition to the family record.’
‘And would you like that, Mr Vittorio, to be the painter of one of our family portraits?’
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It does not bother me one way or the other. I paint only what I want to paint. What my client does with that painting once it has been completed is none of my concern.’
Rosemary gave a light tinkling laugh. ‘Every portrait you do is highly acclaimed, Luke, and they’re always kept in a place of honour.’
‘I’m sure they are,’ Sophie put in dryly, sipping her wine.
‘If you can’t be civil,’ her stepmother snapped, ’then don’t say anything at all!’
Sophie shrugged. ‘That suits me.’
After that she devoted all her attention to the man sitting to her left, dazzling him with her laughing violet eyes, flattering him outrageously. And all the time she was aware of the soft murmuring of conversation between her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. Not that she could hear what was being said, they were talking too quietly for that.
Her stepmother was the gracious hostess to this sophisticated man, and yet Sophie knew that she would be in for a certain amount of angry reprisal once her stepmother had her alone. She had in fact been more outspoken than she intended, but she didn’t regret it. Her stepmother might like the man, enjoy his company, but. she wasn’t going to become another of the women following him with adoring eyes. She didn’t much like the attention Rosemary paid him either, and she could see her father watching them closely too.
Nicholas managed to be at her side again as they stood in the lounge drinking coffee. His boyish face always looked pink and well scrubbed, his fair hair kept short and brushed away from his forehead. Sophie supposed he could be called good-looking—if only he didn’t have such a boring turn of conversation. He was doing it again now, launching into a lengthy tale about a sick cow he had.
‘Of course I knew the diagnosis before the vet told me,’ he said enthusiastically, ’but you have to call these chaps out just to confirm it.’
‘Yes, of course you do,’ she agreed vaguely, watching as her stepmother continued to stay at Luke Vittorio’s side. He was obviously the guest of honour, a feather in Rosemary’s social cap, but it really wasn’t like her to neglect her other guests like this.
‘I—er—I don’t suppose you would care to come over to tea tomorrow?’