“Well, it seems it’s solely reserved for her father,” the old man said with a chuckle. He shook his head. “Now, may I ask you something?”
“By all means.”
“Why is there a portrait of Miss Sharpe in your room?”
Logan’s entire being stalled, as if he had just been caught doing something wicked. His eyes met his father’s. The older man was giving him an unreadable look.
“How do you know about that?” he asked numbly.
“One of the servants mentioned it to me, not long after it arrived. I believe it came to light during Miss Sharpe’s illness, while you were away. It seems the sheet that you’ve been covering it with had slipped and before they could recover it, it was noted that the piece looked rather like Miss Sharpe.”
“So, one of the servants thought she looked like the model in the painting. That is their opinion. Art is subjective and there are only so many ways the Lord can arrange two eyes, a nose and mouth,” Logan said, his tone defensive.
“I see,” his father said, which for some reason, irritated Logan.
What did he possibly see? Nothing, to be sure, yet Logan wished to hear his opinion on the matter for the first time in a long time. But in the same breath, he wouldn’t betray Faith’s confidence.
What was he to do?
“Well, it has been a trying day. I think I’ll try to get some rest tonight,” his father said, moving around Logan. “You should try and sleep too.”
Logan nodded as his father patted his shoulder. Then, abruptly, he turned and spoke.
“Would you have forgiven her anything?” he asked. His father turned back, a questioning look on his face. “Mother, I mean. If she deceived to you, would you have forgiven her?”
“I would,” he said slowly. “Even now, I think I might forgive her after all these years.”
“Because you love her?”
A gentle, near heartbreaking silence followed before his father nodded his head.
“Yes. Because I love her,” his said. Glancing up, he gave Logan a small smile. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Logan said as his father moved passed him.
For a long time, Logan didn’t move as he absorbed his father’s confession. Even now, after all these years, the old man was still willing to forgive his wife everything. Logan couldn’t decide whether he was a romantic or a fool. Deciding on neither, he exited the room and climbed the stairs toward his bedchamber.
Upon entering his room, he saw the painting, shrouded in a sheet as it usually was. Stalking toward one of the chairs, he began unbuttoning his vest when his foot landed on some object.
Stepping back, Logan looked down to see a near-black stone laying on the ground. A piece of debris tracked in on his boots, perhaps? He almost ignored it, but then he noticed that it was almost perfectly round.
Reaching his hand down, he picked it up. The light of the fire caught on it, causing a honey glow to shine in his hands. Instantly, his body froze.
No. It couldn’t be.
A small hole had been carved in the middle, perfect for stringing it on a length of leather. It was impossible. How in the world had his piece of amber, lost with Duncan in a river in Burma, found its way back here?
Picking up his head, he looked around the room, almost expecting Duncan to appear. But he was alone. As he inspected the stone once more, he noted a series of scratches and even a little chunk missing. Perhaps this wasn’t his stone.
But a part of Logan seemed so sure about it, that he kept it on his nightstand all night.
When morning came, Logan tucked the piece of amber into the pocket of his vest and wrapped up Faith’s painting with brown paper from the kitchens where Jaco had been sleeping. The dog stretched and followed Logan to his room, where Logan tied the paper around the painting with twine. He ensured it was doubly secure, even though it would only have the short journey to Lismore Hall.
He’d intended to give it to her since she’d first asked him to destroy it. While it was a masterpiece, he knew it could never be truly his. It should belong to no one but her. And if she chose to destroy it once it was in her possession, that was her right.
He wrote a quick note, and upon daybreak, he and the dog found Evans.
“I want it delivered to Miss Faith Sharpe first thing this morning,” he said. “No one is to see it and you are not to leave until it is in Miss Sharpe’s care. Do you understand?”
