“Of course it did! I don’t represent clients any longer but ... let me get you some information. Acquisitions are a complicated process, but I know the owner can assist you. It’s her forte, and she’s alsotrès bonat appraisals and consulting. Unlike others in the biz, she’s willing to travel anywhere for your client’s purchase.”
“Actually, my fiancé and I are the clients for this particular project, and we know exactly what we want from both a sound investment and from a decorative standpoint. If travel is necessary, all costs will be covered.”
“Excellent. Excellent. Excellent. I’ll be right back. Now, stay. Right. Here,” he said punctuating each word with his index finger.
An ornate, gold-framed floral still-life painting caught her attention on the adjacent wall of the entrance, enticing her examination while waiting for the man’s return. Similar to the bouquet in the window, the stunning vase of roses, sweet peas, and peonies shone in vibrant pinks and reds, seeming to capture the light coming from the window. Each detailed petal looked photographed. The realism, especially the open book on the table astounded her. She bent to look at the signature, then froze.
“Anne Darcy,” she whispered in wonderment. Mentioning the Darcy name could help her cause.
“It is a beauty, isn’t it?” the man said, coming up behind her.
“Absolutely stunning. It looks like a digital photograph or, I think, what they call photorealism.”
He gasped. “Bite your tongue! That’s like saying Caravaggio painted by numbers! I can absolutely assure you Darcy did not dabble in photorealism. Everymagnificostroke of the paintbrush is original.”
“I meant no offense. Did you know the artist?”
“Unfortunately, no. She passed several years ago, but I think she and I would have beenkindredsouls. If only I had discovered her for a showing! Today, locating Anne Darcy work is a feat, and when you do find one, they aremucho,muchoexpensive to acquire. In all my years, I have only seen two paintings come up for private auction through Sotheby’s. They are simply priceless!”
“Interesting.”
She continued to gaze at the composition through a new set of eyes, knowing this was painted by William’s beloved mother—and worth a mint.
“What does it make youfeel?” he asked.
“Oddly joyful, filled with ... tranquility. Like something my grandmother would have in her living room.”
“Bueno!What you are feeling is the artist’senergy. In art, each painting embodies the creator’s spirit.La molto serena, Anne Darcy, I am told, was not of this hectic world.”
No, she was not.“How ... how did the gallery acquire the painting? Through auction?”
“Oh no! It was painted exclusively for the gallery owner. In fact, La Tempera is named after it—and in honor of the artist. It is painted in egg tempera, Darcy’s only medium.”
“Ah, that explains the ethereal look,” she said, thankful William had gone all art teacher on her.
“Why yes! Darcy’s talent with tempera was sheer mastery reminiscent of Renaissance perfection. Her ability to capture light far surpassed most twentieth-century pieces I have seen. Except Wyeth, of course.”
“Of course. I ... um ... is it for sale?” She suddenly—for no reason beyond instinct—thought better of bandying the Darcy name about. It might appear opportunistic.
“Oh, my stars! I daresay you would have to pry this masterpiece from the owner’s cold, dead hands before she wouldever part with it. Darcy was her mentor for a few years before the artist’s untimely tragic death.”
“Wow. So, the owner was an artist before buying the gallery and throwing her hat into the world of art buying?”
“Yes. That’s right. The latter I taught her. The former, Anne Darcy, before the owner attended Les Beaux-Arts de Paris.”
“How interesting.”
“She is quite accomplished with an advanced degree in Art History and a comprehensive curating fellowship at MOMA.”
“Wow. Does she still paint?”
He pursed his lips then held out the paperwork. “I have included the application for services and a relevant Q&A brochure regarding the process of assuring authenticity, appraisals, and provenance research. You can contact Ms. Bennet on her mobile if you have specific questions or would like to arrange a meeting.”
“Bennet? I once knew a Bennet who painted.”
“Wouldn’t that be a small world!” He laughed. “ElizabethBennet is the owner. She studied at the School of Visual Arts where Anne Darcy taught.”
Elizabeth! Lizzy? Darcy’s ex! The friggin’ cowgirl!“No. I don’t know her,” she lied.
