Page 51 of Forgery, Love, and Other Lies
“Yes,” Fiona barked. Then she groaned. “He knows.”
She caught Zander’s eye. “I don’t remember her being quite this difficult to talk to.”
He shrugged. “You likely never had something you needed from her so desperately before.”
“How are you being so patient?”
“She’s here, isn’t she? I suppose we have time.”
“Wait,” the dowager interjected. “What do you need desperately, Fiona, my love? Tell me, and you know I shall provide.”
Zander stepped forward. “She needs information. As do I. Where are your paintings?”
The dowager froze. The only point of movement in her entire body were her eyebrows slicing toward one another. “My paintings? Why, safe and sound right where they always are, of course.” She turned a bewildered gaze first to Zander and then to Fiona. “Why do you ask?”
Zander and Fiona shared a gaze.
“Have you seen them since you arrived home?” Zander asked.
Lady Balantine’s gaze clouded over. “N-no. But”—a weak chuckle—“they are always there. Right where I left them. Of course… I’ve never left them for quite so long before.”
“Perhaps,” Fiona said, “you can show us… just so we may confirm they are still about? You know I become nervous.”
Lead the woman right to the bad news. Show her instead of tell her. Either a brilliant strategy or a horrid one. They’d find out soon enough.
The dowager patted Fiona’s hand. “Of course, of course.” She turned a sharp eye toward Zander. “I think it’s time to show youeverything, Lord Lysander. Are you ready for a remarkable discovery?” She bounced to her feet. “Follow me, darlings.”
They did, huddled together and at a slight distance from their hostess.
“Do you have smelling salts, by any chance?” Zander asked, his voice low.
“No. Do you think she’ll need them?” Fiona whispered.
“I did when I first discovered the missing pieces.”
She bit her bottom lip. He knew what that lip tasted like, and his body begged him to taste it again. His mind agreed. Only… something, some still-resilient bit of him held fast and steady against his entirely inadvisable not-an-infatuation.
“Can she really not know anything about it?” Fiona shook her head.
Zander grasped her hand, squeezed it, pulled her closer, as if they were alone and not a single thing stood between them, as if he had a right to. “It will all be well.”
The dowager cast a look over her shoulder. “Ah, young love.”
Zander dropped Fiona’s hand, and Lady Balantine chuckled. “Need not hide it from me, darlings.” She tapped the corner of her eye. “I see everything, and I highly approve.”
“She’s not seen everything yet,” Fiona hissed.
The dowager led them upstairs to the small room Zander had believed to be her only gallery space, and she opened the door with a sweeping gesture. Then froze.
Zander ran up behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and, when she melted into him on unsteady legs, moving the arm to her waist to better keep her upright.
Fiona rushed forward, too. “My lady, you must sit.”
“Where have they gone?” Her gaze fixed to the empty walls. “All of them. A lifetime’s collection”—a sob broke through, and her face paled—“where?” More shriek than query. Then her entire body stiffened, becoming stone, and she jolted out of Zander’s arms. “No.” A low moan. She jerked around him and ran down the hallway. “No, no, no. Surely not. Surely not.”
They followed, running after her as they had last night.
“She keeps in excellent health for a woman of her age.” Zander panted for breath between words.
