The clerk’s sparse brows jumped. “A moment, please.”
She stood completely still until the clerk disappeared through a door. She didn’t have to wait long before the sound of footsteps clipped a nearby floor, and then the curtain again pulled open.
At the sight of Lucas, Olivia’s trepidation fled.
“MissBrannon,” Lucas exclaimed, his customary smile inciting her to smile in return. “What a surprise to see you this morning.”
Olivia flicked her gaze toward the clerk, who’d followed Lucas in. “I must speak with you. Privately, if possible.”
Lucas motioned for the clerk to leave, who did as instructed, but only after casting a suspicious glance in her direction.
Refusing to be dissuaded by the skeptical glance, Olivia waited until all was again silent. “I’m sorry to bother you like this, but I’ve learned something quite unnerving, and I didn’t know who else to come to.”
His brows drew together in concern, and he folded his arms over his chest. “What’s the matter?”
Olivia lowered her voice and conveyed every detail she’d overheard the previous night—from Russell’s involvement to Tabitha’s betrayal. To the time and date they planned to meet on Cloverton’s property and to the fact that the man named Wakes might be willing to harm anyone who knew of their deception. The words rushed out, and as they did, relief filled her.
“From what I can surmise, this arrangement—or whatever it is—has been going on for quite some time, and it affects both of our businesses. In good faith we cannot just stand by with the knowledge that this is happening.”
Lucas’s sober expression did not change. “Does your uncle know of this?”
She shook her head.
“You did not tell him?” Lucas’s brows rose.
Olivia drew a deep breath. Sharing details about her personal life—and her relationship with her uncle—would give Lucas more insight into who she was, which made her more vulnerable. But what choice did she have? She needed help, and he was the only one who could give it. “My uncle cares very little for the business. To him, it is simply a living that fell into his lap.”
“Do you think he’s involved in this as well?”
When Olivia did not answer, Lucas rubbed his chin. “If there is a craftsman who makes such impressive replicas, then we’ll face this issue again and again. After all, if this crew was able to affect the Milton collection, who knows who else might have been affected? But we must inform Wainbridge. As the owner of the stolen pieces, legally he is the one to bring in the proper authorities for any real investigation. The burden of proof would lie entirely with him.”
“Would he be willing to get involved?” she asked.
Lucas shrugged. “He’s lost a great deal of money. I’m sure he would. But what of Mrs.Milton? Tabitha is her maid, isn’t she? Do you think she’s aware of what is going on?”
The conversations she’d had with Mrs. Milton, combined with her possessiveness and protectiveness over the pieces, ran through Olivia’s thoughts. Could that be why she was so opposed to Lucas’s presence? “Honestly, I don’t know. My instincts tell me no, but clearly I have misread several situations as of late.”
He inched closer to her, and the light filtering through the front windowpanes fell across his face, highlighting the straightness of his nose and giving his pale eyes the appearance of glass.
Her breath shuddered within her. How would she ever be able to balance these feelings—this sensation of needing him to help her but also wanting to revive the tension that had simmered between them at Cloverton?
“Wainbridge is to call in a few days to discuss the sale of some of his items. I’ll speak with him then and we’ll figure out a plan of action.”
Lucas’s suggestion seemed solid. It made sense that he would be the one to speak with Wainbridge, especially given the manner in which he expelled her from Cloverton, but she didn’t want to be left out of this process. It was too important. “You must promise to inform me of the outcome. This has serious implications for my business as well, for if Russell is selling stolen items from our shop, then I must know.”
His eyes locked with hers. “I have a better idea. Perhaps you should join us when Wainbridge calls. We should be doing this together, you and me.”
Olivia felt as if the air had left her lungs. It might have seemed a simple request to him, but to her, it was a testament to thefact that he viewed her as a professional—an equal. “I—I would appreciate that. Thank you.”
“I’ll send you word as soon as I hear from Wainbridge.”
The conversation had reached a natural end, and her entire reason for being at the Avery shop was complete.
Yet she hesitated. For she simply did not want to leave.
She liked the feeling of being close to Lucas—of collaborating with him. His easy manner and quiet strength were a balm to her agitated thoughts. In his presence she felt respected. Admired. Seen.
Perhaps he shared the sentiment, for the somber expression had faded into one much more informal. “I’m by no means happy about this development, but seeing you is certainly a pleasant way to start the day.” He looked down at her hand. Slowly, he reached out his own toward it.
