Blackmail. One of his favorite types of cases. He had plenty of experience with exposing blackmailers, although he’d never had a case with such an empirically innocent victim.
As Allie lowered the letter, Bull forced his expression neutral once more so she wouldn’t think he was enjoying her obvious distress. “Ye ken of this portrait?”
“Yes, of course.” Allie pulled her hand from Rupert’s long enough to sketch out a square about twelve inches on each side, before grabbing her love once more. “It has been stashed in the attic at Tostinham along with the rest of my father’s things for years.” Her cute little nose wrinkled. “I did not know who the woman was, but to find out she was my great-grandfather’s mistress…”
When she shuddered, Rupert pulled her closer to put his arm around her shoulders, and glared at Bull. “Neither Allie—nor her uncle—knew her great-grandfather had a mistress. It’s all very…”
“Sordid,” Bull supplied. When the other two nodded, he shook out his hands, the familiar fizz building in his blood. “Do ye want to keep the portrait? A painting left in an atticfor years, nae emotional connection…do ye object to giving it to this blackmailer?”
Allie immediately shook her head, but Rupert interjected, “It’sblackmail, Bull! Statistically speaking, if Allie gives into this bastard’s demands, there’s a ninety percent chance he’ll make more demands.”
Bull’s lips didn’t twitch, but only because he fought to keep his expression serious. Leave it to his younger brother to know the obscure statistics of something like that…or to make them up. To Allie, he gently said, “This is quite possible. The message”—he nodded to the paper in her hand—“may I see it?”
Wordlessly she passed it over, and Bull hummed as his curious gaze examined it. “Block letters, everything spelled correctly, nae mark-outs.” He lifted it to his nose. “Good quality paper, and the ink smells expensive.”
“What does that mean?” Allie asked quietly.
Bull winced. “It means this person might verra well be as powerful as he claims, and able to follow through on the threat.”
To his surprise, his younger—and ridiculously academic—brother made a noise like a growl as he pulled Allie even closer. “Wecannotallow Allie’s name to be linked toanykind of scandal, Bull. Her uncle was accused ofmurder, for goodness’s sake, and the family has seen enough scandal, what with everyone dropping dead all the time. No offense, dear,” he added to Allie.
Allie’s smile was a little sickly. “The portrait has no meaning to me and I barely knew my grandmother, muchlessherfather. I have no moral objection to giving it to someone who believes he has a greater claim on it, but this…”
“But wecannotafford the chance this blackmailer will continue!” Rupert interrupted.
Bull lounged back, his fingernails scraping through the stubble on his jaw as he eyed the couple thoughtfully. “Hmmm.Whydoes the blackmailer want this portrait in particular? It could be a verra well-planned scheme, Allie. If he begins by demanding something ye have no emotional connection to and ye give it to him, then who’s to say he couldnae escalate to something more meaningful or more expensive.”
“All while under threat of ruination,” Rupert added darkly. “A threat that never ends.”
Humming, Bull followed through on the logic. “Butif that’s the case, why this portrait? Just knowing the existence of it proves that the blackmailer is in some way intimately familiar with yer family’s estate…” He shrugged, frowning, mind trying to untangle a knot without enough purchase on the rope. “Orthings are just as he claims; the portrait is somehow meaningful to him, and he wants it back.” He pinned Allie with a stare. “Ye dinnae ken who this woman in the ruby necklace is?”
Allie glanced at Rupert, as if pulling strength from him, but shook her head. “I remember, several years ago, searching the portrait for a signature or identifying mark. I thought…well, we were a little short on cash, and if it were painted by someone famous, it might be worth something. But there was nothing to tell who painted it or who the sitter was. There is not even a date.”
Hmmm.
Bull propped his elbow on the chair’s arm and tapped his fingers against his temple as he stared sightlessly at the flickering flames. “Then itispossible yer blackmailer is telling the truth and the unknown woman is why he wants the portrait. If we could figure out who the artist was, we might learn who sat for the painting.”
And Merida would know.
She’d never been formally trained in art, but she was the most talented painter he knew; he could get her to look at the portrait and identify the artist.
After all, Bull reasoned, how many painters in the world could there be?
Across the carpet, Rupert frowned. “If you can learn the woman’s identity, you could follow that link to identify blackmailing suspects, assuming the letter is telling the truth and hedoeswant it for personal reasons.”
“But what happens if he makes more demands?” Allie whispered, clearly frightened.
And Bull sighed, pushing himself upright. She was such a sweet lass, no older than Rosie, and he hated the thought of her being afraid?—
I thought ye werenae thinking of Rosie anymore.
Och, aye.
His jaw hardened. “We’ll figure out who the bastard is, Allie. I have an art expert on retainer. Would ye be willing to send the portrait to my offices in London? I’ll keep it safe, and stay in contact with you. When you receive another letter from the blackmailer, I’llarrange a hand-off and we’ll attempt to catch the bastard.”
Allie nodded. “As soon as I get home I’ll fetch it from the attic and send it to you via courier.”
“But in the meantime?” Rupert pushed, his serious gaze not releasing Bull. “What do we do about the threat to Allie’s reputation? Her family is already barely accepted by Society, and a single hint of a scandal…”
