The sooner that was done, the sooner she’d be able to get him—and his clever, matchmaking aunt—right back out of her life. Of course, solitude no longer held the appeal it once had, but she’d get used to it again. She was sitting at her desk trying very hard not to look at her half-finished portrait of Ben, when the bell on the outer door rang. Heading into the gallery, she plastered a welcoming smile on her face, a smile that faltered when she found not the expected customer but her mother. Shocked, it took her a moment to compose herself before she finally spoke, drawing her mother’s attention away from the most dramatic of Boris’s paintings. “Mother, this is a surprise. What on earth are you doing here?” she asked, trying to inject a welcoming note into her voice when all she really felt was dismay. She’d expected that if her mother ever did show up in Alexandria, it certainly wouldn’t be without warning. “I decided to take you up on your invitation to visit.”
