Page 14 of The Courtship Trap
“I am told you trade in art?”
Sebastian nodded. “Renaissance art. My partner, Lorenzo di Bianchi—whom you met at the Scotts’ residence—is quite the expert.”
A shadow of a smile passed Philip’s lips. “You are quite knowledgeable yourself.”
It was a compliment, and the unexpected warmth Sebastian felt on hearing it caught him off guard. Despite their differences, they were still family. Blood.
And for all that they did not see eye to eye on one essential subject, Sebastian respected that Philip was a good man. One who took his responsibilities to heart.
“I mostly provide introductions and credentials. The Markham name carries weight, even in Europe. Lorenzo is the true connoisseur. It runs in his veins. He had a great-great-something uncle who worked in the workshops of both Botticelli and da Vinci.”
Philip nodded.
A handful of years older than Sebastian, the duke shared his features, but his brother’s hair was closely cropped, his manner more serious. A clash of temperament—Philip, ever the duty-bound peer, and Sebastian, who considered thede rigueurcustoms of high society to be of negligible importance.
That was the prerogative of a spare. Although, with the duke now having an heir, he supposed he was a spare no longer. Just a wayward relation who had left for his Grand Tour and never returned.
Philip nodded again, appearing momentarily at a loss for words as he leaned over to pour his own cup before settling back in his chair.
Sebastian watched closely, noting the subtle tightening of his brother’s broad shoulders.
As if he were bracing for battle.
“Why are you here?”
“I am doing a favor for Lorenzo. Retrieving something. Hopefully, we will depart from London soon.”
Especially if the painting was lost.
Which was when Sebastian realized that, in the heat of his anger, he had stormed out of Harriet’s home without learning whom she had given it to.
Bloody fool.
He wanted to smack himself for his stupidity. Once Lorenzo heard the news, he would be relentless, harassing Sebastian into returning to Harriet for more conclusive information.
Deuce it!
It was as if London had grabbed hold of him in its suffocating embrace, refusing to release him until he drowned in memories and regrets.
After all this time, why had he not found another woman to capture his heart? Was it because he no longer had a heart to give?
“Does it have anything to do with Lady Slight?”
Philip’s baritone interrupted his scattered thoughts, yanking him back to the contentious subject that had severed their affinity years earlier.
Sebastian stiffened, setting down his cup. “Why do you ask?”
“She is why you left. I wondered if she is why you have returned.”
“I think, perhaps, we should not discuss Harriet.”
Philip growled, setting his cup down with a decisive clink before rising sharply to return to the window. “I should never have allowed Lady Hargreaves and her daughter to visit Avonmead as often as they did.”
“We are neighbors. It is the way of things in the country.”
“It was a mistake I have long regretted.”
“But why?” Sebastian’s fist clenched, his carefully maintained equilibrium threatening to shatter.
