Page 4 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘But in a good cause. Perhaps you would like to know what it is?’ She glanced up at him then, and he continued. ‘I came to Warwickshire in search of a statue.’
‘Is that why you are here, in this arbour, looking at the sculpture of Mars?’
‘Yes, although I know it by its Greek name, Ares, rather than the Roman. It was stolen from me.’
‘Stolen!’
‘Sold off by someone with no legal right to do so. Would you like me to explain?’ He took her silence as assent, and went on. ‘I am the co-owner of a pleasure gardens in Gloucestershire. I took charge just over two years ago and shortly before that the manager, a shifty fellow called Hackthorpe, sold off several pieces, including the statue of Ares. It is one of a pair, Ares and Aphrodite, carved from Portland stone and commissioned from Rysbrack by the first owners of the gardens, some sixty years ago. The commission is recorded in an early accounts ledger, which fortunately was never in Hackthorpe’s possession.’
‘How can you be sure it is the same?’
‘I remember seeing the pair, when I first visited the gardens, and I noticed they both had identical markings carved on the back. Ares was gone by the time I took charge.
‘There is no record in the accounts of the statue being sold. Hackthorpe denied it and he was careful to cover his tracks, but not quite clever enough. I discovered a letter addressed to him from Lord Whilton, referring to an advertisement in theWarwickshire Advertiserand offering him fifty guineas for the sculpture. I found it between the pages of one of the older ledgers, where it had obviously been mislaid.’
As he was speaking Flora moved closer to the statue. She studied the classical face, clean shaven and withcurling hair very much like that which was now so fashionable. Very much like that of the stranger, she thought, before brushing the idea aside.
The figure was seated on a rock, sword in one hand and naked save for the stone drapery covering his hips and thighs. It was certainly a very fine piece. She remembered how pleased Lord Whilton had been when he installed it in this garden two years ago. The day he had asked her to marry him.
There might be some truth in the stranger’s story, but she could not admit that. It would be like betraying Quentin.
‘So, you see,’ said the man, coming to stand beside her, ‘it is a matter of some delicacy that I need to discuss with the Viscount.’
‘And I am sure His Lordship will be pleased to listen to you, when he returns,’ she said coolly. ‘Good day, Mr Talacre.’
‘I am coming with you.’
‘I would rather you did not.’
‘But I am obliged to go that way, to collect my horse.’ His brown eyes gleamed with mischief. ‘Or would you prefer me to walk behind you, like a medieval page?’
‘Of course not!’ It was a ridiculous suggestion and she could not prevent a quiver of laughter in her voice.
He grinned. ‘Very well then. Shall we—?’
‘Hi, you!’ demanded a loud, rough voice. ‘What are you doing in here?’
Matt looked up to see a small, thin man limping into sight from behind the hedge. He was wearing an apron over his homespun breeches and holding his garden hoe before him in a menacing fashion, but when he saw the lady he stopped and touched his hat to her.
‘Oh, ’tis you, Miss Warenne. I beg your pardon; I didn’t see you.’
He was still regarding Matt with a wary eye and she said quickly, ‘It is quite all right, Jepps. This is Mr Talacre—he came to see Lord Whilton.’
‘He ain’t here.’
‘So I understand.’ Matt regarded the groundsman with a sapient eye. ‘Military man, were you?’
‘I was, until I was wounded and shipped home from Corunna.’
‘Thought so. Even your country clothes and high-low boots can’t disguise that straight back. Why, you were even wielding that hoe as if it were a bayonet!’
The man stood a little taller. ‘Aye, sir. Rifle Corps. But that aside, you shouldn’t be here, what with the Viscount being from home and all.’
He shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Miss Warenne, who said quickly, ‘Quite right, Jepps. We were just leaving.’
The man nodded. ‘Thank you, miss. Would you like me to come with you?’
Matt saw the lady hesitate. She threw him a glance that held more than a hint of triumph and he shrugged inwardly. Ah well, it had been pleasant talking to her and if she was indeed the Viscount’s fiancée then it would have been useful to have her support, but it was not to be. Shame, though, he would have liked to walk back through the woods with her and become better acquainted with Miss Warenne. Flora.
