"I'm crushed," he said, grinning.

"But not for long, I'm sure," she replied crisply, and waving at Leighton and the other men, she walked away.

Everyone followed her progress across the large room, and only when she'd disappeared through the high Moorish arch did conversation resume.

"She's astonishingly beautiful," George Howard said. "I can see why you have her pose for you."

"She deigns to pose for me," Leighton corrected his friend. "I'm only deeply grateful, because she models infrequently and according to whim. Although, Alma-Tadema has intrigued her with his newest project." He offered the men a self-deprecating smile. "We're currently competing for her time."

"I'm surprised a woman of her magnificence isn't married again."

"She has notable wealth from both her family and husbands and she prefers her freedom," Leighton offered. "Or so she says."

"From that tone of voice, I'm surmising you've proposed," Eddie observed. "And been refused."

Leighton dipped his handsome leonine head in acknowledgment. "At least I'm in good company. Rumor has it she's turned down most everyone."

"Most?" Sam regarded the artist from beneath his long lashes, his lazy sprawl the picture of indolence.

"She has an occasional affair, I'm told."

"By whom?" Ranelagh's voice was very soft. "With whom?"

"Kemp seems to know. I believe he's acquainted with Alex's maid."

"With whom is she currently entertaining herself then, pray tell." The viscount moved from his lounging pose, his gaze suddenly intent.

"No one I know. A young art student for a time." He shrugged. "A banker she knew through her husband. A priest, someone said." He shook his head. "Only gossip, you understand. Alex keeps her private life private."

"And yet she's willing to pose nude-a blatantly public act."

"She's wealthy enough to do as she pleases… as you no doubt understand," Leighton noted with an urbane smile. "While a model is generally nameless anyway, particularly in cases like this, where a lady prefers a degree of anonymity."