Heat charged up her neck. Did he expect her to polish his boots or lug hot water for his bath? “How am I to do that without alerting the others to our…agreement?”
He shrugged. “I don’t particularly care.”
“I shall need a chaperone to make the trip with us.”
A wicked smile formed on his face, and he looked her up and down as if assessing her merits. “Yes, of course. We wouldn’t want anyone to question your integrity.” He rolled his eyes. “There is no way Mother will allow me to go on this trip without her, so you needn’t worry about your virtue being compromised. At least, certainly not by me.”
A thrill ran through her as she allowed herself, for just a moment, to imagine what it would be like to have him study her not out of disgust, but with interest.
He spun on his heel and exited into the corridor. Isa released her pent-up breath. She didn’t care a whit what Lord Kenworth thought of her, but she was sorry to involve the duchess in her scheme. Hopefully, the level of excitement the duchess exhibited over finally locating the painting would help outweigh the level of guilt Isa experienced.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Helping George restore his properties and their family honor was her first priority. Nothing else mattered. She had to stay focused on that and not allow herself to be distracted by a presumptuous earl.
Chapter Five
Miss Winthrop glanced at his mother, who was gazing out the window of the carriage and not paying them any heed, then met his malevolent stare with one of her own. He raised a brow but said nothing, daring her to say anything with his mother present. His opinion of her had already been set, and it would not change. Regardless of her situation, a lady did not resort to blackmail. Besides, her position with Lady Concord seemed secure, so there was no logical explanation for her actions. In fact, if anything, she ought to be concerned that her nefarious activities might cause her to lose her position. He sensed there was something more to her story that she hadn’t shared, perhaps even something she needed to hide from him.
The most worrisome aspect of the situation was that he did not have two hundred pounds to give her. Despite the wealth of his parents, he received a surprisingly small allowance, and if he didn’t choose a bride during the house party, he would be cut off completely. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his father would do it. Of course, it remained to be seen whether she was correct that the portrait they were about to see was in fact the one they had sought for so long. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to pay her at all.
Mother turned to him. “Darling, why aren’t you more excited? I can barely stop myself from bouncing on the seat in anticipation.”
For an insane moment, he considered blurting out something about never trusting a blackmailer, but instead he said, “After having followed so many false leads in the past, I find myself skeptical.”
“Well, we shall soon find out.”
Miss Winthrop closed her book and stretched her arms above her head. “We’re almost there.”
Despite her lack of integrity, Edward couldn’t help but admire her comely figure. At least she had other assets she could parlay into a new career should she lose her position with Lady Concord.
The driver turned the carriage into the entrance to a large estate. The park went on for miles, through rolling hills and expansive gardens as they neared the house. It turned out that the place she spoke of was a gallery curated by the Earl of Marroll, which he kept open to the public. His mother had sent a note upon their arrival in the village the previous evening and had received an enthusiastic response from the earl himself inviting them to tour the gallery this morning.
Mother turned away from the window and focused on Miss Winthrop. “However did you manage to find Lord Marroll’s gallery?”
“I accompanied Lady Concord on a visit to her cousin last summer. She lives quite near here and, during the course of our stay, she brought us to view Lord Marroll’s extensive collection.”
Mother clasped Miss Winthrop’s hand. “What a happy coincidence that you came to us, and that you happened upon the journal and recognized the connection to the painting. It’s as if some sort of divine intervention brought you into our lives.”
That, or the instincts of a criminal. It seemed too improbable that she could have somehow linked the painting with the journal so easily when they had spent decades chasing false leads and making no progress.
The carriage negotiated the circular drive and stopped in front of an enormous Palladian mansion. A man he presumed to be Lord Marroll emerged from the house and approached the carriage. Edward handed down his mother and reached for Miss Winthrop’s hand, but she ignored him and climbed out on her own.
“Lord Marroll, I presume?” Mother held out her hand to him.
“Your Grace.” He bowed. “It is a pleasure to have you view my humble gallery.”
“We greatly appreciate your hospitality.” She quickly introduced Edward and Miss Winthrop.
“Miss Winthrop. How delightful to see you again. You visited last summer with Lady Concord, did you not?”
She curtsied. “Yes, my lord. I am honored you remember me.”
“It isn’t often that I have visitors with your extensive knowledge of art.”
Edward frowned. How had a paid companion become an expert on art? Perhaps Lady Concord had a large library that she had studied. She was an odd creature. Both a connoisseur of art and a blackmailer.
“Would you like some refreshment, or would you rather go straight to the gallery?”
Mother glanced at Edward and turned back to Lord Marroll. “I think we should like to go to the gallery immediately. As I said in my note, we are very interesting in determining whether you possess a painting of my great-grandmother that once hung in the library at Walsley Manor.”
“Very well.” He led them around to the side of the main house, where a separate building stood that mirrored the architecture of the residence. Edward moved to open the door and held it until everyone had entered.
There were paintings of every size and type cluttering the walls. Edward could spend days here studying each picture, and if he hadn’t been so anxious to find their painting, he would have enjoyed exploring the gallery.
Lord Marroll held out his hand toward the wall closest to them. “My family has been collecting art for several centuries. Because it comes from various sources, it is difficult to determine how to organize the pieces, so over time the gallery has evolved based on the date a particular piece was acquired. In the case of the painting you seek, it is located among the items acquired by my father.”
Edward entered the room and spotted the painting immediately. It hung about halfway up the wall, nestled between a landscape and another portrait. A jolt shot through his stomach. There it was. The tiara. The painting was smaller than he had imagined. It would not have filled the space above the fireplace. What if it was the wrong painting? But no, that had to be the tiara. Surely there couldn’t be more than one tiara made with priceless pink diamonds. He glanced at Miss Winthrop, noting the excitement mixed with relief in her eyes.
Mother moved mere inches from the picture and studied every detail. “See her straight-edged nose and the green eyes?” she said to him. “She resembles your grandmother. Or, I guess that would be the other way around.”
“Yes, I can see the likeness,” Lord Marroll said.
Edward turned to him. “Do you mind if we remove it from the wall so we can look more closely?”
“Of course not.” He held out his hand toward the portrait, then walked to the other end of the gallery.
Edward lifted it carefully, making sure the wire didn’t catch on the hooks, and was surprised when Miss Winthrop slid past him to help set it safely on the ground. He leaned it against the wall and took in the details. His great-great-grandmother’s provocative smile, her similarity to his mother and grandmother, the pink diamonds of the tiara. There seemed to be hundreds of them of various sizes, with the largest at
the center. It had to be at least ten carats.
“What are we looking for?” Miss Winthrop asked.
“That is the question, is it not, darling?” His mother placed her hand on his arm. “I don’t think there’s any question that it is her, but I do not see anything in the painting that will help us determine where the tiara was hidden.”
Miss Winthrop tilted her head to the right, as if she needed to examine it from a different angle. “Perhaps the clue isn’t in the picture. We should examine the back of the painting.”
He exchanged a look with his mother then lifted the painting, turning it around and carefully leaning it so the frame touched the wall to prevent damage. Edward knelt and looked closely. A wood frame outlined the back of the canvas, with two slats connecting from the top to the bottom, presumably to protect the canvas. He couldn’t discern whether what he was seeing was the canvas on which the picture had been painted, or a second layer used to protect the first.
“Was there a signature on the front?” he asked.
Mother shook her head.
“Not that I saw,” Miss Winthrop added. She leaned close to his mother and they shared a whispered exchange he could not hear before Mother approached Lord Marroll.
“My lord, I cannot thank you enough for allowing us to study the painting. I think it is clear that it is a portrait of my great-grandmother. Would you be so kind as to allow me to purchase the portrait from you so I can return it to its rightful place at Walsley Manor?”
He crossed his arms. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Mother’s smile dipped. “I am prepared to offer you whatever price you demand, even enough to replace it with several other portraits.”
Stepping toward her, he said, “No, no, Your Grace, you misunderstand me. I will not sell the painting to you, but I would like to give it to you. It should go back to your home where it belongs.”
She shook her head. “That is very generous of you, my lord, but I cannot allow you to do that.”
“Of course you can. I shall enjoy searching for another painting to take its place. I’m only sorry that there isn’t a way to determine whether any of the other paintings in this chamber came from Walsley.”
“You are too kind.”
Edward had no doubt that his mother would send him another portrait to take its place. She would insist upon it.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Lord Marroll said, “I will fetch a footman to help us wrap the painting and secure it to your carriage properly, so as not to cause any damage.”
Edward turned back to where the portrait sat and noted Miss Winthrop studying the back.
She shook her head as he approached. “It’s quite odd that there is no signature. Unless the artist signed the back, and there is an extra layer of canvas set over the first.”
“We will be able to study the picture more closely once we get back to Walsley. We cannot risk causing damage by attempting to dismantle it here.”
“No, of course not,” she agreed.
She ran her hand lightly over the canvas. “See here?” She clasped Edward’s hand and drew it to the back of the painting. Her soft touch all but caressed his palm, sending a quiver of awareness through him. “There is a slight bump here.” She gently guided his hand over the place in question. “It could just be another layer of wood or some such to protect the painting. But it might not be.”
Edward turned to meet her eyes. Who was this girl, and why was she so invested in their family mystery? She didn’t stand to gain anything by helping them further. He was paying her for leading them to the painting, which she had already done. Was she simply bored and in need of an occupation, or was there something more?
Miss Winthrop cleared her throat and tore her gaze from his. “I so wish we could remove the backing now. I believe the return trip shall seem exceedingly long.”
Edward could not argue with that.
Chapter Six
The trip back to Walsley was excruciating. Isa couldn’t wait to get her hands on that painting. Resisting the lure of any sort of mystery was impossible for her, and now that she had read the entire diary, she could not rest until the tiara was found. She only hoped that would happen before the upcoming house party ended. It would break her heart not to be involved in finally locating the tiara.
The images of the clues from the journal occupied her mind, and she hadn’t realized they were so close to Walsley until the carriage slowed to turn into the drive. She gasped as they approached the house. Three carriages were being unloaded. At least some of the guests had already arrived.
Lord Kenworth straightened and peered through the window. His eyes narrowed. “Mother, you invited Lady Mary?”
“Darling, we couldn’t very well hold a house party and not invite Lord Hooksett and his family.”
“I don’t see why not. It is our party, and we have the right to invite, or not invite, anyone we please.”
Her Grace raised her brows at her son, but didn’t comment.
“What I don’t understand is why, knowing how I feel about her, you would waste an invitation on her. Surely you don’t think I’d ever consider marrying her, and Father was very clear about the consequences if I don’t choose a bride as a result of this party.”
“Darling, you know there are other things that must be considered when preparing a guest list.”
Isa bit her lip and kept her gaze trained out the window. They were forcing Lord Kenworth to marry? That at least partly explained why he was so irritable. Lady Concord had not mentioned that there was a purpose to the house party. Isa hadn’t known him for long, and she definitely couldn’t claim to know him well, but she was certain he would not enjoy trying to weed through a bunch of ladies in a matter of days to determine who was the best option to spend the rest of his life with, though she would certainly enjoy watching him attempt to choose his bride.
His Grace stood in front of the house and opened the door as soon as the carriage came to a halt. Perhaps even before it had.
“Thank goodness you have returned.” He unabashedly engulfed his wife in a hug and kissed her soundly on the lips. “Did you locate the portrait?”
She grinned at him and nodded.
“Excellent. Unfortunately, you will have to wait to tell me more because you must assume your hostess duties immediately. If I have to continue to deal with the eager mothers and nervous girls, the party will be cancelled forthwith, and I shall throw everyone out immediately.”
The duchess laughed and kissed him on the cheek, then turned back to her son. “Have the portrait moved to my sitting room. There will be too much traffic in the library.”
Lord Kenworth nodded, and the duke and duchess headed toward the house. To her surprise, he held out his hand to help her exit the carriage, which she didn’t think was a gesture he would normally extend to someone he considered to be his servant. As soon as her foot hit the ground, Biscuit tore around the corner of the house and jumped against her skirts. She knelt to pet him.
“I’m shocked by how much that dog likes you. He’s always been sort of vaguely grumpy and more interested in food than human companionship.”
She raised a brow. “Have you ever considered the possibility that he may just not like you? He seems very fond of your mother.”
Two footmen began removing the luggage from the carriage, and Lord Kenworth shot her a glare then turned to speak to them. “Just a moment,” Lord Kenworth said. He untied the portrait and lifted it from the carriage. Without asking, Isa grasped one side and steadied it while he climbed down.
“Here,” he said, tilting his head toward the side of the house. “Let’s go in through the kitchens. They’re closer to my mother’s sitting room, and that way we should be able to avoid any wayward party guests.”
She nodded. As the son of a duke, he had to have spent much of his life entertaining people and ought to be comfortable with it by now. Though, of course, he did say his father was forcing him to marry, so she s
upposed his reluctance was understandable.
When they reached the entrance, he leaned against the wall and balanced the portrait on his thigh so he had a free hand to open the door. She hadn’t noticed before, but the muscles in his legs were quite defined, even through the fabric of his breeches. He must ride frequently. Isa loved to ride, but she rarely had a chance anymore, as it was an activity in which Lady Concord no longer engaged.
Lord Kenworth shouldered his way through the door, and Isa followed, noting the looks exchanged between the kitchen staff. A wave of heat washed over them as they drew close to the range. The fact that no one questioned him made her think he entered and exited through the kitchens frequently. A woman she assumed to be the cook stepped toward them.
“My lord, I’ve just made fresh gingerbread. Shall I bring you some along with tea?”
Biscuit’s nose twitched. It smelled so heavenly that Isa feared her nose might twitch as well.
“Thank you, Mrs. West. We are headed for Her Grace’s sitting room.”
She nodded and cast a curious glance at the picture but said no more.
They left the kitchen and navigated up a staircase and through two corridors before finally reaching their destination.
“Let’s set it over here, by the window.” They gently placed it on the floor and leaned it against the window seat. Lord Kenworth pulled out a pocketknife and cut the twine, then carefully removed the coarse cloth it had been wrapped with.
He met her eyes. “Mother is probably going to kill me for doing this without her, but let’s turn it around and see what we can find.”
She grinned. “That’s fine with me. I can hardly stand the suspense, and I’m certain I’m not the one who will be in trouble when she discovers what we’ve done.”
He shook his head at her. “That is not a safe assumption. Perhaps I will tell her you pulled the painting apart before I could stop you.”
How to Bewitch an Earl Page 4
