The Study, The Duchene Estate, Leighton, England (1762).....
A summons from Sir Alfred Remington saw Alain receiving yet another interruption as he attempted to finish up his latest works. After leaving the old grove, he spent the better part of his evening completing three paintings in record time, a first for any painter, especially within the Duchene household. His father had been contacted by an art dealer looking to improve upon his collection. Alana's paintings were not up for sale as she collected them herself and showed them off at her many parties. The gentleman interested was a wealthy nobleman by the name of Sir Herbert Calhoun who seemed to be fascinated by Alain's latest works as they came in rare supply. He bought most of them and with this new direction his work was taking he became even more of a fan of it.
When Alain arrived he'd been dressed rather casually in a paint-splattered long-sleeve white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and dark brown trousers with black leather boots. He seemed preoccupied despite the interruption and even had paint staining his fingers and one of his cheeks as he attempted to get to the bottom of the summons.
Alfred smiled upon his arrival walking over to him and greeting him warmly. He had a look on his face that could be attributed to a healthy amount of pride in his son's natural talent and seemed to be thrilled that he was helping him along in whatever small manner of assistance this meeting provided.
Alain got a good look at his apparent prospective benefactor and wasn't in the least impressed. He'd been just like any other noble and given to overindulging in food and drink which left him on the portly side in terms of weight, but considerably taller than most men who had come to lick his father's boots for a favor. Calhoun seemed an anomaly among nobles as far as his reputation was concerned and was often the subject of a great many scandals.
"Alain, I would like you to meet Mr. Herbert Calhoun," said Alfred introducing them. "Herbert, this is my talented younger son Alain, the lad whose paintings you've been collecting over the years."
Herbert looked over the paint-splattered younger man with something of a critical eye. It appeared he had known Alfred Remington for a great number of years as Alain had not known anyone who had been welcomed so informally by his father beforehand.
"Looks a bit like you the boy does." said Herbert in a gruff tone," Alfred you sure you didn't sire him and not tell anyone?"
"If I didn't know any better I probably wouldn't doubt it," replied Alfred casually. "Herbert and I are old war mates...been a while since I've seen him in person with him running his estate and so forth, but when we make time it's always a good one."
Alain seemed unconvinced a man like Herbert was even capable of holding his own during any sort of combat mission, but offered his respects just the same if only to appease his father who seemed to hold this beastly man in high regard.
"Your father tells me you were the one doing all the painting," said Herbert with a smile. "I've been charmed by your work so to speak and I have to say I'm intrigued by it, I'm told you've been working on some new portraits as of late."
Alain nodded.
"That is correct," he replied. "I've been given to the sudden need for expression these past few weeks."
"I was wondering lad if I could commission a portrait for myself shortly," said Herbert appearing to be testing the waters a bit.
"If that's what you'd like I'd be delighted to oblige," replied Alain remaining as civilized as possible. "But it will have to wait until I am finished with my current projects."
Herbert smiled before clasping a hand on the younger lad's shoulder.
"He's a Remington," he said jovially. "A right chip off the old block if ever I saw one...might as well be blood this lad."
Alfred seemed pleased to hear this as he too put a hand on his son's shoulder.
"That he is," he replied proudly. "Alright, lad off you go to finish your work."
Alain was relieved to have been dismissed. He had quite a bit of work to finish up and didn't like the interruptions in the least.
"It was good to see you lad, I hope to work with you more in the future," said Herbert also pleased about the meeting.
Alain gracefully took his leave of the two men and ventured back to his bedchambers. He locked the doors and set to work putting the finishing touches on his recent masterpieces. Two portraits of Noreen, one in all her elegant and refined beauty dressed in the softest of silk in the form of a white ball gown and the other a personal portrait derived from memory and sensation was of her as he knew her naked as the day she was born with the very sensuous contours of her body in full view of his eyes. The third work is a more ravenous view of modern life at one of his mother's numerous parties. The lavish artwork and fine detail of the ladies he elected to paint seemed to nearly leap off the canvas as if true to real life.
Noreen's apparent effect had decidedly made him much bolder in pursuit of his artistic elements and much more precise when it came to the subject matter. Where his earlier paintings seemed to lack an element of expression, it was clear that the new ones were made all the better for it.
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Alain's Bedchambers, The Duchene Estate, Leighton, England, (1762)...
Hazel colored eyes opened to the semi-darkness of the quieted bedchambers once more Alain found himself unable to sleep as the vivid memories of what transpired throughout his day made it impossible to stave off the lingering effects of anticipation. He recalled the sparse moments of bliss he experienced whenever he found himself in the peculiar lass Noreen's company and despite not knowing too much about her aside from her last name and the fact that she seemed to prefer keeping their relationship a secret, he enjoyed being with her and the apparent appetite she had for intercourse was something that surprised him given all that he knew of the women Casimir often told him about. He had judged her in the beginning to have been very bold and forward-thinking and she seemed to prove it time and time again.
Still, as much as she'd been on his mind, he began to wonder if she'd been thinking incline. It was one thing to feel himself falling for the young lass, but her affections for him aside from unbridled pleasure were another matter altogether. Alain made up his mind to pursue the matter when next he saw her wanting to be sure she felt the same as he did about her despite their obvious physical attraction to one another. Once more the weary lad found himself lost in his rather vivid memories of their latest encounter and hoped that she felt the same for him come morning.