Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 61
“Do you two know each other?”
Isabella asked, looking puzzled. Rubens only glared at Macy in silence.
“Yes… but it seems the Duke didn’t know I’d be painting. I assumed he was aware…”
Macy’s fingertips trembled slightly.
‘What a damned coincidence.’
Why on earth was Macy present at a session for a portrait meant for the engagement ceremony? Rubens’ eyebrows knitted in irritation.
Now that he thought about it, Morgan had come by in the morning, saying there was something urgent to relay. He had asked Morgan to leave a letter due to the tight schedule, and it seemed that he had come to tell him about this situation.
‘Ah…’
Rubens swallowed a sigh and walked past them.
“Let’s get started. What should we do first?”
“Yes! We’ve already decided on the pose with the Miss. The Duke should sit in this chair, and the Miss should stand beside her. Just a moment. I’ll take a look from afar.”
Macy hurried to start the work, hoping to change Rubens’ mind.
For the past few days, Rubens had kept his distance from Macy, possibly needing some space.
He had been trying to avoid the memories of that night, though he hadn’t fully confirmed them. He thought that if he did, the intense emotions would subside. However, it seemed he had missed something crucial about Macy in the meantime.
She had been scheduled as the painter for the outing, and Rubens had instructed so that she would not mingle with the nobility, yet somehow, she had ended up connected with Isabella.
“Miss, you should move a bit closer, and the Duke should relax his hand like this…”
Macy approached and adjusted their poses personally. During this process, Rubens’ arm brushed against her.
Though it was just through their clothes, it made him uneasy, reminding him of the wet moan from that night. The sound of friction from that night seemed to echo in his ears. Even in his more se-ually active youth, he had never felt this way. Now, his mind was filled with lewd thoughts.
‘Damn it…’
Rubens’ brow furrowed as he caught Macy’s familiar scent. Macy, aware of this tension, seemed overly cautious, constantly checking Rubens’ reactions with each of her movements.
The pale green eyes, usually hidden away beneath the black cloth, darted around like glass marbles. Then they locked onto each other’s eyes.
Startled, Macy dropped her hand in surprise.
“I—I think it’s ready! You can stay just like that!”
Macy hurriedly moved to the back of the easel, making it seem like she was running away. It wasn’t as if she had seen a ghost; why was she so startled?
An inexplicable irritation surged within Rubens. As he frowned and continued to stare, Macy lowered her body even further.
“So, how do you two know each other?”
Isabella asked with genuine curiosity. Her gaze had been directed at Rubens for some time.
“I’ve seen him before when Yannick Horton came to deal with some paintings.”
“Did she come to the Duke’s residence with her sibling?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I see. She must have come along to assist as well, then. But the Duke seems to remember all his assistants…”
It seemed that the spies of the Werfel family hadn’t reported much about the Hortons. Even though Yannick was a famous painter, they likely deemed it unimportant for Isabella and didn’t bother to pass on the details.
By now, since quite some time had passed, it was probable that the spy wouldn’t remember the specifics.
However, Rubens had shown displeasure as soon as he entered, and Macy visibly trembled, so an explanation was necessary.
“Back then, she accidentally spilled tea. That’s all I remember, the fuss about it.”
“Oh, were you hurt?”
“No.”
“That’s a relief. I didn’t know… Should I switch to another painter now?”
“It’s fine. There’s no need to worry about trivial matters.”
Even though she was trying to smooth things over for her sake, Isabella seemed deflated. Macy, meanwhile, was still glancing at them nervously while diligently working with her hands.
Looking at her distance, it seemed unlikely she would get it right. But considering how vividly she had painted from just a brief glance on the Romansi Bridge, it might not matter. Though he knew she painted, seeing her work firsthand was a new experience.
He had thought that those tiny hands would look amusingly out of place holding a paintbrush, like a child playing pretend, but they fit better than he expected.
As she began to focus, her olive-green eyes sparkled beneath her long, curtain-like eyelashes. Those clear, unblemished eyes made Rubens feel a strange sense of helplessness every time he met their gaze. It was as if sharp words were on the tip of his tongue, only to be swallowed back. Once seen, the image was difficult to erase from his mind.
He had even covered them with a cloth before, yet now he was standing right in front of them. Since he would likely see those eyes often while posing for the portrait, it seemed he would have to get used to it…
“Actually, I didn’t mention that Macy is a renowned painter among the noblewomen these days to surprise you.”
“Are you talking about that person?”
