Was that what she wanted from him? Would that make him more worthy?
Demon was muttering under his breath as he stomped toward the head of the table, and as the women took their places, Bull forced himself to stop dreaming. There wasn’t a future for him and the Lady Rose Hayle; her father had made that very clear.
And Demon wasright.
Bull settled himself at the opposite end of the table from the family. Where the guests sat. Where the interlopers sat. This was where he belonged.
As they ate, Rose launched into an explanation of Allie’s dilemma and how Bull had become involved in this case. She explained about the blackmail and Bull’s solution, interrupted occasionally by her mother’s, “How interesting!” and Demon’s, “Wait,he’sthe reason the engagement was announced?” while pointing a fork at Bull.
“It was a wonderful solution to the blackmail,” Georgia assured him smoothly. “It negated the danger to Allie—and Rupert—and moved the two of them along to the end goal we all knew they had. But what I do not understand, Rosie, is whereyoujoined this case?”
Bull was frowning down at his plate, considering her mother’s words and remembering how quickly Rupert had pulled that engagement ring from his pocket. His brotherhadbeen wanting to marry Allie for ages, but he’d clearly needed the encouragement. Was it possible the blackmail had some kind of benefit?
When he noticed the silence, he glanced up to see his Rose looking rather desperately at him. Quickly his mind ranback through the last few sentences, and realized her predicament. She didn’t want her parents to know about her subterfuge…or her particularly ridiculous mustache.
Who would?
“Rose was in London visiting Merida,” Bull announced, scooping up his spoon from beside the place setting. Fiddling with something kept his mind at ease. Just as long as he didn’t absentmindedly put it in his pocket. “Merida has helped me on previous cases, and since I dinnae ken much about art, I asked for her help.” He nodded to Rose as he spun the spoon across his knuckles. “If I’d realized Rose was the real art expert, I would’ve gone right to her, but luckily Merida brought her along.”
“Aye?” grunted Demon, clearly unmollified. “And what happened?”
“Well, Rose in her brilliance recognized the significance of the portrait right away.” Bull nodded to her. “We visited the National Portrait Gallery to find another piece painted by the same artist, but it was stolen out from under us.”
Rose eagerly took up the tale. “I knew of one other being sold, but by the time we approached the owner, we learned it had already been sold. The Marquess of Tittle-Tattle had two in his collection?—”
“But a buyer—presumably thesamebuyer—beat us to him, as well,” Bull finished smoothly, pleased they’d managed to get through the explanation without referencinganyof their disguises and roles they’d had to play or the kiss they’d shared. “Someone is collecting the portraits of this woman—or perhaps the work of this artist—either through outrageous sums or violence or blackmail.”
“A man confronted us in Alnwick,” Rose explained quietly, her gaze dropping to her plate. “He wanted the portrait, which I was carrying in the briefcase, and Bull would not let me come to danger. There was a-a gun…” She swallowed, and missed the alarmed look her parents exchanged, though Bull did not. “Bull tackled him, and they both went through the ice. I think…” She looked up and met Bull’s eyes. “I think he might have died.”
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken a man’s life, even unintentionally, but Bull offered her a reassuring grin. “Och, we broke apart as soon as we went under. There’s nothing to say he didn’t hold his breath longer and came up downriver, aye?”
“Fook that cowardly wankbiscuit,” Demon growled, slamming his fist to the table. “Show us this portrait, eh? What’s the fuss about? And how is our family involved?”
“Georgia’sfamily is the one involved.”
Bull glanced at Rose, and when she nodded, he bent to pull the painting from his briefcase. He stood and moved around the table so he could place it, almost reverently, in front of Georgia.
Who gasped and slowly lifted it upright.
Finally. She recognizes the woman.
“See!” Rose bounced to her feet and wormed around the table to stand over her mother’s other shoulder. “Look at the smile—look at how similar her eyes are to yours and Aunt Danielle’s. Shemustbe a relative!”
“She was Allie’s great-grandfather’s mistress, you say?” Georgia murmured, her fingers hovering over thewoman’s face, the same way Rose’s had during that first meeting.
“Aye,” Bull drawled softly, gaze fixed on hers. “Do ye recognize her?”
Rose closed a hand over her mother’s shoulder. “I thought she might be your mother?”
But Georgia shook her head. “My mother had a mole here.” She pointed to the woman’s upper lip, which was completely devoid of moles. “But this woman looksverysimilar to how I remember my Mama looking when I was quite young, around the time of Danielle’s birth.”
So when her mother would have been newly married. They had to be close. Bull asked gently, “Do you have an aunt, possibly?”
“My mother had no siblings, but I believeheraunt is still alive.” Georgia was nodding. “Great-Aunt Betsy is quite elderly now and was married for decades, so this could not be her. Unless she was someone’s mistress as averyyoung woman. But perhaps there is a cousin, a sister of hers I did not know about? Perhaps this woman died young?”
Rose tugged her mother around to face her with urgency in her expression. “You have never seen this woman before, or a portrait with a similar ruby necklace? Perhaps in any of the paintings you brought from Bonkinbone?”
When Georgia shook her head, her daughter deflated slightly. “Moldering wankmuppet,” Rose muttered. “We had hoped…”
