“You cannot, and you know it,” Lucas snipped. “Are you sure you don’t want to return to London when I go?”
“I’m certain. I’ll stay for the rest of the party. After all, MissHaven’s interest in Wainbridge has suddenly declined, and while I do lament our host’s misfortune, there’s no reason why I should not take advantage of the opportunity in front of me.”
“I’d expect no less.”
“But what I really count as an offense is that you kept the truth about MissBrannon from me for all that time. You sly devil.” Tate poked Lucas in the shoulder with his forefinger. “You had the answer to the great mystery and didn’t say a word.”
“I’d argue that the identity of the person who broke the Cavesee Vase is the bigger mystery of this excursion, but do go on.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Tate indulged in a long sip. “Any new theories as to who is responsible?”
“No, and I don’t intend to propose any.” Lucas took Tate’s empty glass from him and set it on the table before he could drop it and break it. “If Wainbridge is smart, he’ll hire someone to look into it, for something is amiss with this entire situation.”
Tate’s eyes widened, as if an idea suddenly dawned. “You should stay and find the culprit.”
Lucas scoffed. “No. The law on such things is not my forte. I’m an antiques purveyor, not a thief taker.”
Tate shrugged. “Maybe I should investigate it.”
Lucas laughed—probably the first real laugh he had enjoyed since the discovery of the shattered vase. “That I’d like to see.”
When the men joined the women in the drawing room, a shade had been set up, just as it had been a few nights previous, and the ladies were drawing silhouettes. There was no laughter, no chatter—the sedate tone was a sharp contrast to the much livelier events of the past several evenings. In fact, the women barely looked up as the men entered. The only one who took notice was Romano, who abandoned his position by MissHaven and approached Lucas.
“What an interesting event this turned out to be, no?” Romano said lowly as he stood next to Lucas. “And such a shame our pretty little friend is no longer with us.”
There was no need to ask to whom the painter was referring. The party did seem sad without theirpretty little friend, but Lucas doubted Mr.Romano felt her absence as keenly as Lucas did.
“I could not help but notice the two of you were quite friendly, and I’m told you both reside in London. I hope you will do me a favor?” Romano pulled an item from his pocket. “I finished her portrait last night as best I could from memory, and I wondered if you would be good enough to see it sent to her once you return. I will be traveling north after this party and am not certain when I will be back in London. It would be a shame to let the art go to waste.”
Lucas took the small parcel and unfolded the handkerchief around it. There, in a little metal frame, was a small painting of Olivia’s face and shoulders, no bigger than the palm of his hand. Romano had re-created Olivia’s full florid lips. Her entrancing topaz eyes. The soft dimple in her cheek. Her calm, even demeanor.
“You’ve captured her likeness incredibly,” Lucas responded. “I will certainly see that this gets to her.”
Mr.Romano bowed. “I thank you.”
Lucas folded the miniature portrait in the handkerchief and tucked it in his coat.
Once Romano returned to the ladies, Lucas assessed the party with a fresh eye. The desire to be back home among what was familiar surged through him. With his work done and Olivia no longer here, the party’s allure had diminished. And yet there was one task he needed to do before he departed.
MissStanley and her chaperone were standing near the shade, neither speaking nor joining in the activity. She did not look toward him as he approached her, but once he was there, she said, “I heard you’re to depart in the morning.”
“Yes. Given all that has transpired, it is best that I go.”
“What did Mr.Romano give you?”
“He asked that I take MissBrannon’s portrait with me to London to see that she gets it.”
“May I see it?”
He took the portrait out and handed it to her.
“Sheislovely.” The sadness in her tone sobered him. She flicked her large brown eyes to him. “You hold her in high regard, don’t you?”
Had it been that obvious? Lucas accepted the piece back, wrapped it, and returned it to his coat. “I do.”
MissStanley folded her arms before her, looked toward the ceiling as one abating tears, and then assumed a smile. “I shall miss you.”
It was important to him that he left Cloverton with good rapport with his old friend. “I hope you know how I’ve enjoyed our friendship over the years. I wish you nothing but the best moving forward.”
