She smiled, just as she would with any introduction. “A pleasure.”
He bowed.
“You may not know it, but you and Avery here have something in common.”
Olivia’s heart thudded in her chest. “And what is that?”
“London. You both reside there. Such a small world, is it not?”
Relief trickled through her. “It is indeed, Mr.Wainbridge.”
He grinned. “Good. I will leave the two of you to get acquainted while I go find another coat.” Mr.Wainbridge clapped his hand against Mr.Avery’s broad shoulder as he left them.
And then she and her adversary were alone.
***
Years had passed since the last time Olivia had actually spoken to Lucas Avery. She’d heard about his successes and transactions, about his travels and his father’s death, but never had she expected to speak with him. Yet this conversation was inevitable. In the short time since she first saw him on the staircase, she’d been imagining what she’d say to him when they finally did speak, but now that he stood in front of her, her mind was devoid of thought.
The confidence in his voice, the familiarity of it, combined with the unwavering directness of his gaze, bemused her. “I’m surprised but pleased to see you here, MissBrannon.”
She’d show no discomfort—a skill she’d honed over years of working with men who did not take her seriously. “Not nearly as surprised as I am to see you.”
He chuckled but did not break their eye contact. “It’s only that I’ve never seen you at these gatherings before.”
These gatherings?She knew his clients were well-connected members of society, but the thought that he might interact with them socially hadn’t crossed her mind. “Mrs.Milton was kind enough to extend an invitation, and I was grateful to receive it.”
He lifted his brows as if to signal a change in topic. “A Vinci, if I’m not mistaken.”
Her fingers flew to the bauble. Of course he’d recognize the setting, the filigree of the notable impostor piece. “Very astute, Mr.Avery.”
“The metalwork is unparalleled. I’ve always been partial to his work.”
She fought her anxiety and kept her tone light. “You’re aware of its secret, then?”
He lowered his voice, as if taking her into his confidence. “Every antiquarian item has a secret, but I’d wager you know that better than anyone.”
His words were so calm, so amicable, as if coming upon an old family rival was mundane business. But then again, he likely had nothing to hide.
A bout of laughter from across the room drew her attention. She looked over her shoulder and spied Mrs.Milton reentering the drawing room.
If Olivia wanted to speak with Mr.Avery, she needed to do it now.
She turned around with renewed determination. “This will seem an odd question, but have you informed Mr.Wainbridge that you and I were already acquainted?”
“I have not.” His brows drew together, a twinkle brightening his eyes. “I was concerned that you might not want everyone to know you were associated with a lowly merchant.”
The easy nature of his tone would ease most, but she remained wary. The Averys were famously skilled in the art of conversation—and manipulation.
She glanced up to see Mrs.Milton approaching. “I was hoping to ask you a favor.”
“Anything.”
“Whatever you know of me, of my family, I would appreciate it if you could, at least for the time being, keep it to yourself. You see, I—”
Olivia snapped her mouth closed as Mrs.Milton came within earshot and pivoted to face her hostess. “I do hope MissHaven is all right. Her chaperone seemed quite concerned.”
“A headache.” Mrs.Milton stopped by Olivia’s side. “Brought on, no doubt, by travel and a change of the weather. I’d wager tomorrow she will feel well enough.” She fixed her eyes, hard and heavy, on Mr.Avery, as if finally taking notice of him.
