Lucas was not sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. He’d never seen Wainbridge in such a state, but then again, the man had just lost the most expensive piece that would presumably secure his future. As Wainbridge continued to tear through the papers, a sickening sense of dread trickled through Lucas. There was no way this could end well. It only remained to be seen exactly how extensive the devastating reverberations would be.
At length Lucas picked up a document, and there was the name: Cavesee Vase. The bill of sale. Dated a decade prior. At the bottom was the name of the broker and witness of the sale.
Edward Brannon.
There was no way to keep this information from Wainbridge. Nor should he. But with each second that ticked by, the possible repercussions built.
Wainbridge would see the name.
He’d make the connection to Olivia.
And then what?
Lucas cleared his throat and handed the document to Wainbridge.
Wainbridge snatched it from him, angled it toward the light, and read it hungrily. Frantically. “Yes! This is it.” He pointed to the substantial number—an amount that could make or break any man. “This was the purchase price, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I’ve lost, then.” Wainbridge swore under his breath, sank down into a chair, and leaned his head back.
Lucas shifted, uncomfortable not only with this situation but with the fact that some of the other pieces in the collection were as worthless as the shards of porcelain on the gallery floor.
Wainbridge wrenched his attention back to the paper in his hand, read it further. After several seconds, he jerked his head up. “Who is Edward Brannon?”
Lucas swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He had to answer. He would not lie. “Edward Brannon was an antiquities broker out of London. He is deceased now.”
“Connected to MissBrannon, my aunt’s guest, I assume?”
Lucas drew a deep breath. “She’s his daughter.”
“And you did not think to tell me?” he demanded, his dark eyes wild.
“I didn’t think it pertinent.”
“Not pertinent?” Wainbridge grabbed another stack of papers and began flipping through them. “Most of these have his name on them! How is it not pertinent?”
“MissBrannon is not here to evaluate your collection, Mr. Wainbridge.”
“And I suppose this has nothing to do with the fact that I saw her trying to climb up to it in the gallery a few days ago?”
“Stay calm. She’s here as a guest, and—”
“I will not remain calm! My aunt is a deceiving, conniving woman. Have you not figured that out by this point?”
Wainbridge slammed the papers down on the desk and barged toward the door.
Lucas set down his stack and began to follow.
“Do not follow me!”
Lucas did as bid, and once silence again descended upon the study, he turned to the papers. As he gathered them back into a pile, he reviewed the events of the past several days.
He’d come here with the express purpose of brokering these pieces.
He was not expecting to encounter Olivia.
He’d also not expected to encounter counterfeit pieces.
