Masquerading the Marquess Read Online Free Page A

drive.
     
    What a fiasco. Even though a voice in her head cruelly taunted her quick tongue, she placed the responsibility for the disturbance on the Marquis of Angelford. He was undoubtedly the one who had advised Lady Simpson to dismiss her.
     
    One nobleman at a time. The sentiment was sound.
     
    Intent on her thoughts, she missed the thoughtful   figure standing in the doorway swinging her forgotten cane lightly in his hand.
     
     

Chapter 2
     
     
    "
Cal
, don’t you think you’ve become a bit preoccupied with the Marquess of Angelford?"
     
    Calliope shot Robert Cruikshank, her mentor and caricaturist extraordinaire, a fuming glance and dropped into her soft leather chair. "He provides so much material. How can one not take notice?"
     
    Robert shook his head and ran a hand through his fashionably cut locks. "Three more drawings on the same subject—'The Travails of a Marquess.' It’s a bad idea to concentrate on one person, especially a peer who values his privacy. "
     
    "I know, but admit it, they are good illustrations."
     
    Robert inspected the drawing in his hand. "Better than good, they are inspired. Just be careful. Angelford is a powerful lord and isn’t accustomed to this type of attention. None of the other artists portray him in such a narrow, unflattering manner. "
     
    Robert tossed the sheet to her and leaned back, crossing his shiny Hessians on the edge of her worn mahogany desk.
     
    "At this juncture of your career it would be much easier, as well as safer, to portray those who expect and encourage the notoriety . "
     
    Calliope groaned. "They’ve all been overworked."
     
    Robert shook his head with more than a little irritation. "
Cal
, that’s one thing you need to accept. Everything doesn’t need to be new. One of an artist’s greatest challenges is to create something exciting from the mundane. "
     
    "I understand Robert, really I do. I just think Angelford is an interesting subject." and he deserves the comeuppance , she added mentally.
     
    Calliope scanned the image. The marquess was dodging carefully laid traps set by society mamas and debutantes as he scampered after a dozen scantily clad courtesans. Examining the caricature, she felt an odd mixture of satisfaction, anger, sadness and regret. Across the lower right she signed the name Thomas Landes with a flourish and slid the sheet back to Robert.
     
    He sighed and carefully placed the sheet on top of the other two caricatures of the marquess. "The publishers are very pleased with your work.
     
    Sales have increased and they are eager for the mysterious Mr. Landes to provide more fodder for their presses. You will notice an increased compensation. "
     
    He handed her the banknotes and she noticed the look of pride he tried to conceal. She swelled beneath it.
     
    "Thank you, Robert. You’re a dear friend, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll have a new selection for you next week, and I promise to choose a different subject." Behind her back she flexed her crossed fingers and promised herself she would indeed try.
     
    His expression turned serious. "See that you do,
Cal
. I have an uncomfortable feeling about the direction you’re taking with the marquess. Most likely these three sketches of Angelford will be published every two weeks, to whet the public’s appetite. The others you did of him were much different." He shook his head. "Tongues will wag over these new ones, so be prepared for possible repercussions in the next few months."
     
    "Then again," Robert said, and shrugged in his offhand manner, "since your work is selling well, perhaps you shouldn’t take my advice."
     
    Calliope laughed but couldn’t hide her nervousness. He looked at her questioningly and lifted his eyebrows. "Out with it."
     
    "Lady Simpson terminated my employment. I need to retire ‘Margaret Stafford.’”
     
    "Yes, I know. Even the men at the clubs have been talking about the 'Killroy Incident.' You made Lady