“Four point three,” I said.
Gary whistled.
“No kidding.”
Over the next hour, I pointed at paintings, Gary took notes, and Astrid took photographs.
“You need to create a buzz,” Gary kept saying. His enthusiasm was infectious, and by the time we were done, I’d quite warmed to the scruffy little man—and we’d identified nineteen paintings to sell.
“Something’s just occurred to me,” Gary said, palm of his hand smacking against his forehead. We were standing in the Great Hall in front of the big Gainsborough—a painting I’d refused to sell. “Did I read in the newspapers that you recently got engaged?”
Oh, good lord. What choice did I have but to admit it?
“Many congratulations!” Gary beamed, his hand shooting out to shake mine. “Where is the lucky fellow. Is he here?”
I nodded. “He’s working.”
Gary’s hand smacked his forehead again. “You know how we couldreallymake a buzz for your auction? If you want to make a premium.”
“I want to make a premium, Gary,” I said. “Tell me.”
“All this publicity you’ve had around getting engaged, well, we could leverage it in our marketing.” He called Astrid over. “What do you think, Astrid? Could you take a photo of the baron and his fiancé that really sells precisely what a once in a lifetime opportunity this auction will be?”
“Course.” Astrid nodded. She pointed to the fireplace. “I’d set yous up over ’ere. Looking all in love.”
This was getting out of hand. Petey and I weren’t engaged. Now we were going to pose for a publicity photo suggesting we were very much in love and getting married, all to flog a few paintings?
“I don’t think?—”
“Art collectors from all over the world will hear about this auction. It really is genius.”
“Genius,” Astrid added.
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t ask Petey to?—”
“Oh, William,” Gary said. “He doesknowabout this little financial strife you’re in, doesn’t he? You’re not hiding it from him?”
“Of course not. He knows all about it. He’s very supportive!”
I was starting to go off the man again. Gary held his hands up in surrender.
“Forgive my impertinence, William. I thought it would be a terrible way to start married life, with a great big lie. But if Petey’s supportive, then, no harm in asking him if he’ll join us for a photo now, is there? Think of the buzz!”
As I stood there, Ididthink of the buzz. I didn’t like it.
“No,” I said. “I’m afraid not.”
Gary looked genuinely disappointed. I was starting to want the man out of my house.
“Let’s at least get a photo of you before we go,” Astrid said.
“For the catalogue,” Gary added.
I let them take their photograph, then escorted them back to the front door. As I waved goodbye to them from the steps in the carriage court, I felt this enormous sense of relief for a job well done. It was only a few minutes later, when the doorbell summoned me back to those same stone steps, that my heart started to sink. A man in a sharp blue suit handed me his card, doffed his trilby hat, and introduced himself.
“George Wetherby, my lord. Wetherby’s Auction House,” he said. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late.”
Chapter 35
