Page 17 of The Viscount's Forgery
“Yes, of course you should!” Lady Rosalyn agreed, an excitement in her voice. “You must offer to assist him in discovering the truth about the forgery – who did it and where the real painting is.” She sat up straight, her eyes glowing. “You have enough knowledge to assist with that.”
Eugenia’s heart quickened all the more. “I do not know if he would eventhinkabout accepting such a thing.”
“We will all go with you,” Lady Isobella suggested, as her friends nodded fervently. “Come now, Eugenia! You are wise and knowledgeable, and your heart is good. Why not take this chance to use what you have learned to assist Lord Suffolk?”
“Or at the very least, offer to help him,” Lady Amelia put in. “We will not force you, of course, but we should like to encourage you.”
Considering all of this, Eugenia took a few moments to think about what she wanted and what she had the courage to do. Theconversation with Lord Suffolk had not ended well the previous evening, though that had been entirely her own doing, given the way she had stalked from him. It would, she supposed, be a chance for her to use all that she had learned, and that was a reward she could not help but grasp at. Lifting her gaze, she looked at each of her friends in turn, feeling their solidarity and support emanating from them. “Then if you will be with me and encourage me, as you have all done thus far, then yes, I will speak with him again,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Thank you all for your kind words. I must hope that he will say yes, for the truth is, there is a niggle of curiosity in my heart over the painting!”
Her friends beamed back at her, filling Eugenia’s heart with new hope.
“I am sure he will agree,” Lady Isobella said, speaking with more confidence than Eugenia had. “And then, mayhap, we shall have another mystery to proceed with – and what fun that shall be!”
7
Nicholas paced up and down the hallway, barely able to glance at the paintings on the wall but, at the very same time, unable to take himself away from this place. The soiree last evening had turned from light to darkness in only a moment, leaving him confused and more than a little perturbed. Surely it could not be?
“Mr. Falconer knows as much as there is to know about paintings and the like,” he muttered to himself, speaking aloud of his man here in London, whom he hired to purchase the very best of things. “It seems unusual to me that he would mistake it.” Running one hand over his hair, Nicholas let out a slow breath and stopped his pacing, turning to look up at the painting in question. It was, to his eyes, just as it ought to be. A landscape painted in great detail; a harvest scene which took in the workers, the sunset, and the golden hue of the sheaves. How could it be that this was a forgery? It looked quite proper, but Nicholas considered, he did not know for certain. He had never taken a great interest in what hung upon his walls, save only for the fact that it was always the very best. What shame it would bring him if thetondiscovered that he had forgeries on his wall!Heat began to curl up in his chest, spreading out like flames across his skin.
She said there might be more,he thought to himself, the fire now in his face.More than I have not yet seen. What am I to do if nearly all of these paintings are forgeries?
He would have to get a new man of business, that much was certain! Could it be that Mr. Falconer himself was responsible? Nicholas considered this and then dismissed it quickly. Falconer had been loyal to Nicholas’ good father, and Nicholas knew just how much trust there had been between them – the same trust that he now felt. Mr. Falconer would not risk his livelihood or his reputation, he was sure.
“My lord?”
Turning sharply, Nicholas made to berate his butler, only for the man to bow in clear awareness that he had interrupted Nicholas’ contemplation.
“Forgive me, my lord, but the carriage has arrived.”
Nicholas blinked. “The carriage?”
“Yes, my lord. Lord Bothwell is waiting. I believe you are to go to a picnic with Lord and Lady Derbyshire?”
Confusion reigned in Nicholas’s mind. He did not know what his butler was speaking of, had no recollection of agreeing to attend any sort of picnic, and certainly not with Lord and Lady Derbyshire! Silence grew though the butler remained steady and silent, waiting for Nicholas to respond.
“Did I – did I agree to this?” Nicholas asked, wondering if the butler knew of something he did not. “Was there a note? A discussion mayhap?”
“Yes, my lord. Last evening, on the way out of the house, Lord Bothwell asked you directly if you would attend with him this afternoon.”
Nicholas scrubbed his forehead with his fist, aware of the dull ache beginning to grow there. “I do not remember.” He had beenso perplexed by what Miss Sherwood had told him, his wits had not been about him. “But clearly, I agreed.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then I shall go at once.” Nicholas took in a deep breath, a little surprised at how reluctant he felt. Was it because he wanted only to pace up and down this hallway and think about his paintings? Or was it because he did not much want to see Miss Eugenia Sherwood again?
“You are tardy.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Nicholas did not tell his friend that he had quite forgotten about the meeting, offering him instead a clear apology. “I was thinking about a painting and became quite distracted. I apologize.”
“One that you are going to purchase, mayhap?”
Nicholas scowled. “No, quite the opposite. I may sell it.”
“I see.” Lord Bothwell shifted in his seat. “I confess, I am a little anxious about this picnic. It was Polly’s suggestion – I mean, Miss Sherwood’s suggestion.” He glanced at Nicholas and let out a tight laugh. “I am doing my best to pretend that we are not particularly well acquainted, you understand.”
Pulling himself out of his thoughts and reminding himself that Lord Bothwell needed his support, Nicholas took in a deep breath. “That is good, my friend. I hope that this brings you clarity.”
Lord Bothwell nodded. “As do I.”
