“Goodness, Mr. Harris, you’re here so much I wonder if you’ve moved in,” she said, sitting back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?”
“I demand a word with your niece.”
“Ah, very good. Which one?” He gave her a tight-lipped stare as she bloody well knew which one. Lady Belle nodded, seeming to intuit that he wasn’t in the mood for games. “Oh yes.Thatone. I’m sorry to inform you that Faith is not feeling well. From whatI’m told, she had breakfast in her room this morning and barely ate.”
“I want to see her. Now.”
The tips of Belle’s silver brows notched up at his command.
“My, you seem rather hostile this morning. I hope you are not unwell?”
“One tends to be hostile when one is shot it.”
“Shot at?” she repeated, genuine concern on her face. “By whom?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here. Now will you summon her or do I have to march up those stairs and bang on every door until I find her?”
“Goodness, Mr. Harris, it was not I who shot at you, so I would please ask that you remember your manners.” She turned to her manservant. “Andrews, go fetch my niece. Tell her Mr. Harris is here and he’s in a frightful mood.”
Andrews nodded and left, leaving Belle and Logan alone. A question that had been nagging at him since the previous night burned within him, and he needed to ask her before Faith arrived.
“Lady Belle, something has been bothering me for some time and I wish you would truthfully answer a question for me.”
The old woman’s expression shuttered.
“Of course,” she said evenly, in a tone that made him think she would say anything but the truth. “Ask away, my boy.”
“The painting that you suggested I buy from Donovan.Odalisque Reclined.You were aware that that artist was a friend of your niece’s, were you not?”
Belle did her very best to appear surprised.
“Was he?” she asked, her tone too high to suggest honesty. “Why, what are the chances.”
Logan nodded, not believing a word she said.
“So, you didn’t know that Faith had painting lessons with him before she and her sisters moved to Scotland?”
“I knew she had circle of friends in the art world in London, but I could hardly tell you their names,” Belle said, her chin rising.
“I see.”
Believing that to be the end of it, Logan turned to wait for Faith. But after a pregnant pause, Belle spoke once more.
“I don’t think you do,” Belle said. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t think you do see. Because if any of those friends were to write to me, saying, oh something along the line of how they had a painting that would ruin my darling Faith, unless a certain amount of money was offered to compensate them, I would be most upset, you understand.”
Logan watched the old woman with fascination as she stood up and walked around her desk.
“Is that what happened?”
“Of course not,” she said, smiling too brightly. “But if it had, I might have had to do something about it, you understand.”
Logan considered her confession. That anyone would try and blackmail Faith made his stomach turn; evidently, Lady Belle had felt similarly. She had played the game to save her niece from humiliation, and Logan couldn’t fault her for that. But why she had chosen him to be her instrument in safeguarding the painting baffled him.
“But why me?” he asked after a moment.
