“We’ll need a suitable secure place to store these paintings, if they are that valuable. And I’d best see the things, and Featherstonehaugh’s report, before we get things moving to sell them.”
“Very good sir. I’ve had them sent to Morton House for now. I thought that they could be stored in a guest room until we’ve a better arrangement in place. Lady Serafine expressed an interest in seeing them as well – shall I suggest she comes to do so?”
“Yes, please do. That’s an excellent approach for now.”
“I’ll arrange it now.”
Two hours later, Raphael and Sera arrived at the door of Morton House at the same moment, and greeted each other stiffly, and with some embarrassment as Potts opened the door. Jenkins was just supervising the unpacking of the last crate, and the disposition of the paintings in the largest guest suite that Morton house boasted.
Everyone filed into the room to look at these highly valuable paintings. Sera considered them carefully.
“Well, they may be valuable, but I can’t say that any of them are exactly to my taste. I can see why Lord Geoffrey might wish to sell them!”
“My thoughts exactly, Lady Serafine.”
Raphael’s voice was full of humour. The things were mostly ugly. They were, he could see, perfect examples of a particular style, and well executed, but they were dark gloomy things, suited to an older style of house and furnishing. A collector of a particular artist’s work might find them highly desirable, but he wouldn’t want them on his own walls. Thank goodness Featherstonehaugh had suggested likely buyers.
“But – how will you display them for sale? You can’t exactly invite the art collectors of the ton into your guest rooms.”
“A good point. I hadn’t thought it through yet, as this has come as a bit of a surprise to me.”
Jenkins looked abashed at Raphael’s words. Sera looked thoughtful, pivoting to take in all of the paintings.
“There are more to come, you say? And other art pieces, like artefacts and carvings?”
“Yes, Featherstonehaugh’s letter says that this is a tiny fraction of the whole.”
“Perhaps… this could be the beginning of a new business venture? We could start a gallery and call it ‘Morton Exclusive Art’. A small shopfront would be enough – for to maintain the sense of exclusivity, one would only display a small number of the pieces at a time. What do you think?”
Sera’s eyes were alight with enthusiasm, and her whole expression was brighter than Raphael had seen it since his return from America. She took his breath away, looking like that.
“A wonderful idea. Let us test the demand – we can make a small part of the current Morton Empire Imports shopfront suitable to display some of these, and specifically invite Featherstonehaugh’s suggested buyers for a private viewing. If they want to buy these, for the rather alarming values that Featherstonehaugh has put on them, then we’ll know that it will be worth starting the gallery business.”
Jenkins looked to Raphael and then to Sera, and seeing their agreement, stepped towards the door.
“I’ll get that arranged right now, Mr Morton, Lady Serafine.”
“I’ll need to leave much of the planning of this in your capable hands, as I’ll be off to Charlton’s wedding in the next few days. But wait – as you have become friends with the family, I might have expected you to be invited?”
“They asked, but I declined, I have no wish to be amongst the ton.”
“Ah, I see. Then I am grateful that I can leave this with you. My thanks.”
He bowed, and turned from the room, leaving Sera feeling flushed and happier than she had in weeks. He had smiled at her, and complimented her! She felt like a giddy girl.
Within two days, the first paintings were installed in a private room at the Morton Empire Imports office, and the first two potential buyers had visited, coming with remarkable speed when they received the invitation. They had each purchased the pieces that Mr Featherstonehaugh had said they would, and for the large prices that he had suggested be charged. The men had not even blinked at the numbers, and Sera suspected that they could have added 20 percent to the figure, and still made the sale. Jenkins had handled the transactions, and she had simply watched, playing the part of a simple worker to perfection.
Raphael departed on the third day, bound for Pendholm Hall, and with good news for Lord Geoffrey when he saw him there.
~~~~~
Raphael arrived at Pendholm Hall very late the night before the wedding, and fell gratefully into the comfortable bed in the guest suite he was shown to. Sleep came rapidly, with dreams of Sera, looking at him with that expression of delight which had been on her face when they spoke of the idea of a gallery.
The morning came with a crisp frost, and the sun warmed the still air. Raphael, stood at the window, gazing out across the fields, watching the morning mist dissipate as the sun touched it. He so rarely spent much time in the country, he found it beautiful, and worth spending time simply watching and appreciating. He would enjoy the chance to see the other Hounds, to see Charlton happy, after his long wait through Lady Odette’s year of mourning, and he would particularly appreciate the few days after, which he would spend at Witherwood Chase with Geoffrey.
From all he had been told, the house was an intriguing warren of layered history, full of surprises. He would see for himself just how much art there was to be sold, and get a feel for the way that he might present it to buyers. His planning instincts had kicked in, and he was beginning to map out the best path to profit for all concerned. The mist had gone as he watched, and he turned back to the room, ready to dress and greet the others.
A few hours later, he watched as Charlton and Odette were wed, in a church full of well-wishers. There was no doubt of how much they loved each other – it was writ plain on their faces. As they left the church, they were showered in a veritable storm of rose petals, which had, it seemed, been provided by Geoffrey. A whispered question revealed that, amongst Witherwood Chase’s charms, was a glass enclosed garden area, built against the back part of the house, sharing a wall with the kitchen ovens and fires. All that hot air had been put to good use, and, as soon as Geoffrey had seen to the repair of the structure, the roses had responded with a wild cascade of blooms. The more he heard of the place, the more curious Raphael became.
As he watched Charlton and Odette, and Hunter and Nerissa, his heart ached. They were so happy, so certain in the love of their chosen ones. If only he could be with Sera like that. He stilled, letting the crowd of guests swirl past him happily, to the chaos of carriages that would take them back to Pendholm Hall and the extensive wedding breakfast that had been provided.
He needed to examine that thought. ‘If only he could be with Sera like that.’ Like… what? Like a married couple? Well… yes, that was exactly what he wanted. The thought shocked him, yet seemed perfectly right, not only did he love her, he wanted to marry her. But… what if she no longer felt anything for him? She had been so cold and reserved the few weeks since his return that he felt lost. Then, there had been that moment a few days ago, when they spoke of the gallery for the first time, when her face had lit up with enthusiasm, and she had spoken to him, for a little, almost as she used to, before…
He would never give up hope. He just didn’t, yet, know how to proceed. Perhaps the gallery would be the way forward – for her knowledge of the ton, and their houses, and their taste in art – which she had personally seen, before her brother’s suicide destroyed her acceptability – would be key to success.
He shook himself out of his musing, and joined the milling crowd again. By the time that the wedding celebration moved from the energy of earlier into a relaxed state, as the day drifted into evening, Raphael had spoken with the others a little, but had not felt right about confiding anything of his concerns in life. This was a joyous celebration – it didn’t need to be dampened by his cares.
Truth to tell, he was not sure what he might say, if he did confide i
n them – ‘I was a fool, and may have lost the woman I love, because I ran away like a sulky child’ was not an admission he wished to make – even to the Hounds – perhaps especially to them. The fact that he had gone at Setford’s asking, for a good purpose, had almost completely disappeared from his thoughts, he was so focussed on his disgust with himself for using it as an excuse not to resolve things with Sera at the beginning.
He did not dance, but spoke to a rather random selection of people, circulating through the crowd, never allowing himself to be caught in any one conversation for too long. When he settled in a chair in a quiet corner, the orchestra had just struck up a waltz. Watching Charlton and Odette’s obvious love started his heart aching all over again. And… there was Geoffrey, dancing with Lady Harriet, who gazed at him with her usual worshipful look. But, most interesting, Geoffrey was gazing back at her in a way that added to Raphael’s personal pain – for it seemed clear to him that Geoffrey was smitten. He wondered if they had talked about it yet, or if Geoffrey was being a fool, and not admitting his own feelings.
Perhaps they all had a talent for being fools.
The music stopped, and Geoffrey delivered Lady Harriet back to a flushed Miss Carpenter, who had been dancing, to Raphael’s amusement, with the flamboyant Mr Featherstonehaugh. Geoffrey bowed, and then turned, rather rapidly, almost as if escaping something, and came towards Raphael.
“Had enough of dancing for now, Geoff?”
Geoffrey actually flushed at the question. Very interesting indeed.
“Definitely. Now that things have calmed down a bit, I wanted to ask how things went with that first shipment of paintings. Have you had a chance to sell any yet?”
“By the time I left, we’d sold two – to exactly the buyers Featherstonehaugh suggested, for exactly the sort of prices he suggested. The man’s a genius at his trade. There’ll be funds deposited to your bank within the next few days. I’m keen to see what else you have – I suspect that this windfall of yours will be profitable for all involved.”
“That’s good to hear indeed. Come on, let’s escape the ladies for a bit, and sneak off to the library for a brandy. I can tell you about some of the other things I’ve found in the place.”
“Brandy sounds good to me.”
~~~~~
Witherwood Chase proved every bit as fascinating as Raphael had expected, and the collection of art pieces was astounding. Even Mr Featherstonehaugh’s descriptions had not done it justice. By the time they had finished selling this collection, Geoffrey would be a very wealthy man indeed.
Raphael watched how Geoffrey interacted with Lady Harriet, who was there most days, with Miss Carpenter, assisting with cataloguing all of it. He was quite sure that Geoffrey was in love, and equally sure that he hadn’t worked that out for himself yet. Raphael held his tongue, and let Geoffrey take his own path.
Who was he to advise, after all? On the last day before he was due to leave, Geoffrey turned to him, with a schoolboy like grin.
“I’ve saved the best until last, to show you. I told the others about this at Twelfth Night at Meltonbrook Chase, but you missed that. Come, and be ready to get a little dusty on the way.”
Raphael, puzzled but intrigued, followed Geoffrey up and up through the layers of the house, and through a small door, that barely admitted Geoffrey’s bulk.
“The attics?”
“Yes. Come this way. It’s a bit up and down here and there, but the floors all solid. And we’ve cleaned out a lot of the dust, but it still persists.”
Raphael followed him, ever more curious, until they came to another door. Geoffrey produced a key, and opened it, then handed Raphael the lantern, and waved him in first.
“Go on. Just step in, and look around.”
Raphael did. Polished metal glinted back at him from all sides, reflecting the lantern’s light many times over. He gasped in awe, and went forward carefully, wandering the room, touching some things reverently, amazed at what he saw.
“This… this is worth a fortune too.”
“Ever the merchant. Yes, it is. But this, I’m not selling. Even the staff didn’t know this was here. You should have seen Barnstable’s face when I showed it to him! From the age of the newest weapons here, I’d say no one had been in here for 80 years or more.”
“These are magnificent – and so well cared for – whoever created this collection did so with great care. And for you – a man whose skills are so strongly weapons based – this must seem a room full of toys of the best kind!”
“Indeed, I have become so fond of a few of the blades that they hang on the wall in my study now. I find that sword work calms me when the frustration of not having yet fulfilled Setford’s mission becomes too much.”
Geoffrey had told him of the mission, and Raphael could only be grateful for Setford’s machinations, if they had brought Geoffrey such remarkable wealth. They spent the afternoon pleasantly engaged in the exploration of weapons, and Raphael slept well as a result of the exertion.
When he departed the next day, it was as part of a cavalcade of carriages, all carrying carefully packed works of art.
~~~~~
The week or so that Raphael was away, Sera found herself immersed in plans for the gallery. She wanted to have everything in place for them to act on his return, if he had assessed the remaining artworks at Witherwood Chase as justifying it. She felt more alive than she had since that first month of starting the favours business. It seemed that she was truly an ‘unnatural Lady’ – one who genuinely enjoyed the world of trade.
She missed him. Every day. Whilst they had been awkward with each other since his return from America, he had still been there, and she had been able to speak to him.
His absence made her all the more aware of how much she loved him, and how much she wanted things between them to change. Those few moments when they had first discussed the idea of a gallery had been wonderful, for their reserve had fallen away, and they had spoken almost as they had used to.
She hoped that the art at Witherwood Chase was worth starting a gallery for. The chance that it would provide, for them to work together again, was something that she desperately wanted. She would not be a fool, this time. Somehow, she would break down his reserve – she had to know if he cared at all, or life would be unbearable.
When she began to look into galleries, it looked most promising – there were a small number in existence, some quite long established, and they did, so far as she could tell, a steady trade. They were, however, all rather dull and dusty. She envisaged a place with larger windows, more open and airy, where paintings and artworks could be shown off, to much better effect. If it was done well, it could be made into a more social thing for the ton – one could have special events, and encourage buyers to compete with each other in the process.
Now, she was looking into possible sites, with Jenkins’ assistance. A Bond Street location would be appealing, for many of the fashionable gentlemen who were their target buyers would often be there. It was simply a matter of finding suitable premises. She could only hope that Raphael would share her enthusiasm, and that they might therefore find a way past their awkwardness with one another.
“Three carriages full of paintings?”
“Yes – and carvings, and statues, and a few other pieces of exotica.”
“Where will we put them?”
“Err – Jenkins, I trust that you and Manning will be able to work miracles in the next 24 hours? I suspect that my mother will not appreciate the entirety of Morton House becoming a storeroom, which is, I think, the only thing that we can do, at least for today.”
“Ummm… yes, of course Mr Morton. I’ll find a way. It must be possible to rearrange the warehouses.”
Jenkins rushed off, looking harried and extremely flustered. Sera collapsed into laughter as soon as he was gone.
“That was really rather cruel to the poor man. I do hope that he doesn’t create utter chaos for Manning. But this is amazing. Perhaps we
will need a bigger gallery than I had thought.”
The huge quantity of artworks which Raphael had brought back with him sorely taxed Morton Empire Imports storage capacity. But, as usual, Jenkins rose to the challenge, and space was found.
Raphael and Sera found themselves steadily more comfortable with each other, and the needs of creating another new business drew them together. Slowly, Sera began to let go of her hurt, and to trust him again. To believe that, maybe, just maybe, he was as unsure as she, and not being cold with intent. She sincerely hoped it was so, for, no matter how she tried to prepare herself for the possibility that he might simply not care for her, except as a friend, her traitorous heart denied any possibility but love. Her breath caught when she saw him, her heart beat faster in his presence, and she dreamed of a day when he might kiss her again.
Raphael still felt both guilty and hurt – hurt that she had so harshly judged him, all those months ago, without having all of the information. Hurt that she had become close to Charlton and his family, yet was still so reserved with Raphael. And guilty – for the more he thought back, the more he had simply taken the first excuse to flee. He hated himself for that behaviour – even more so because, on the days when he was most unsure, a part of him wished to do just that again. To go to the docks, and take passage on one of his ships, to run away. Adventure in the wide world seemed easier, some days, than seeing Sera every day, without knowing if she cared at all.
He refused to allow himself to do such a thing. He would face whatever it took to win her if he could. His stubbornness was rewarded, for it got easier day by day, and he began to believe that they might find each other again.
Premises were acquired for the gallery, in a suitable location, and with exactly the structure of light and space that Sera had hoped for. Within weeks, it was ready, and open for business. Raphael was, again, impressed with how astute Sera was, how well she understood the ways of the ton, and the ways to do business with them. Men who deemed women not intelligent enough to deal with money or business matters were fools – or perhaps had simply never met a woman as competent as Sera. He watched her achievements with pride.
Winning the Merchant Earl: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 8) Page 13
