The Portrait Of A Lady นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He glanced at her and grinned. She focused on the painting again and then realized he could be right. How had she missed it? "What of the next one?" Jared's long legs ate up the floor as he led her to the next painting. The portrait of Lady Helen Vincent. A lovely young woman in a black silk dress was posed before a balcony. Crimson curtains fell behind her, setting off the alabaster of her skin. The gown hung low, well below her breasts, which were cupped by a filmy white chemise.

There was a desk covered in papers, shelves full of books, a fireplace with a real fire burning—orange and yellow flames that looked wrong after seeing nothing but purple for so long. But what caught my attention were the portraits. They covered every wall, dozens of them, all different sizes. And they were all of the same girl. A little girl with dark hair and bright eyes and a smile that looked like it could light up the whole world. Lyra. In one portrait, she was a baby sleeping in a cradle. In another, she was maybe three years old, holding a stuffed animal. There was one of her at five, missing her front teeth. Another at seven, wearing a pretty dress and a flower crown.

my twin cut my line and stated. My mouth dropped open. What? "Oh really?" the old lady asked, still staring at my sketches. "What a talented girl you are, Elizabeth," she added. But before I could talk, a hot gorgeous man entered the garden.

More than naught, the differences were actually noticeable. I smiled and traced the outline of the woman on the left. The one with the soft and most genuine smile. My eyes shifted to the right. Definitely not my mother. Which was very odd. Lady Xanthia wasn't the other woman in the portrait. She was my mother--judging by the facial features--but not also. She felt so different. I placed it on the table and tapped at my mother. "This one." Lord Leandros's lips formed a thin line and his expression was grim for a second or two and then he took the portrait and turned it over in front of him. "Very well."

Something seemed familiar about her and I couldn't place a finger on where I have met her before. "It looks as though you have quite the eye for great art", I said, giving her a subtle smile.She grinned, glancing at the portrait."Yes, I do. I am a big fan of seamus. Though he is not the type who takes the credit and comes out to the public, I love all his works and I always look forward to each new release", she said.I glanced at the artwork, a painting of prehistoric lovers, sharing a kiss while sitting on beach rock. The lady wore little clothes, which barely covered her body while her male lover, wore a piece of clothing that covered his groin area.

Maybe he might just try again he finalized and made his way back to his quarters, looking like a chicken that had been beaten by a heavy rain. **** Back in his room, Leonard was holding onto a portrait. Once in a while, he brings out the portrait from his vault and stares at it for a moment, especially on nights when he couldn’t fall asleep. “I had plans for us Catharina!” He breathed on the portrait. The woman in the portrait had deep blue eyes like the ocean. Her hair fell back on her shoulders. She was African American and the fondest memory Leonard had of her was her brown skin. He would always tell her how much her skin glowed.

“I thought you went to Maldives to look for that woman on the portrait?” “Yeah I did go to Maldives. Long story short, the woman on the portrait had a long lost twin sister which was the one in Maldives.” I explained. “Oh, that’s such a surprising story.” Mom commented. “I know. The woman on the portrait is the one in North Carolina so I flew as soon as the detective told me about the whole thing.” I explained superficially because if I will explain to them about LUAHU and all the other things, they will think I am nuts.

"Hey, Rory." I gave him my best smile as he let me through. I stayed focused and sharp during my work. The painting was a stunner, one of Mallerton's early works, entitled simply Lady Percival. An absolutely compelling woman with nearly black hair, a blue dress to match her eyes, a book in her hand and the most magnificent figure a female could ever hope to have took up most of the canvas. She wasn't so much a beauty as expressive, I very much wished I knew her story. The painting had suffered some heat damage during a fire in the sixties and never been touched since. Lady Percival needed a dose of tender loving care, and I would be the lucky one to give it to her.

, the man who hurt my baby said and bowed his head towards Lily. I eyed him to leave and lifted up Lily. She struggled and hit me, where I had injuries in the process. I felt nothing, it was no big deal on the contrary I was turned on as she touched me all over. “How do you know that woman?” she asked, “Who are you talking about?” I asked as we reached my room and I kicked open the door. “The lady in the portrait” she clarified, my face turned stiff, her? “I don’t know her” I said, “Then how come you have her portrait, tell me”.