His slow smile and warm gaze promised the best danger.
“I will go in now,” she said. “Make what excuses you will for me.”
***
“Hell of a thing,” Ives said. He did not appear happy with his conversation with Crawley. “He only thinks he knows where the rest of the pictures are, and even then in a general way. According to him, after the paintings were stolen and stored, the leader informed them that a fire destroyed all of it. Crawley was suspicious, but indeed the location was reduced to cinders when he went to check.”
“How did he know Nigel had some of them?”
“He only discovered some of the paintings survived when he also stumbled across one of Miss Russell’s copies three months ago in a Birmingham house he visited, and realized Nigel must have taken some before the fire. Or after, if the fire was a ruse. As for that general location where he suspects the rest of the paintings are now stored, he will not give it to me. Unless he is paid a handsome sum along with going free.”
“That won’t do.”
“No. Nor will he give the names of the other gentlemen involved, although he says that leader is dead now. He will gladly hand over the Wiggins and such, of course. It did start out as a joke, by the way. He learned about the movement of the art from overhearing Demmiwood talk of it. He and some friends from these parts, a few years after the last Duke of Devonshire died, drew away the butler on a ruse and marched it all out again.”
“I expect eventually it stopped being a joke. Probably when one of them learned the value of certain old pictures.”
“They fell out over it. Some, like Russell and Crawley, wanted desperately to sell. Both were young and in debt at the time. Others, including an unnamed gentleman who held considerable sway over the others, this leader Crawley speaks of, did not. That is why Crawley thinks that fire was a ruse. That other gentleman ensured he got his way by telling them there was nothing to sell due to it, but Nigel accused him of lying. When Crawley recently chanced upon one of Miss Russell’s copies, that proved the paintings still existed somewhere, and he assumed that copy meant she knew where they were.”
That unnamed gentleman probably knew a large sale of art was easier said than done, Gareth guessed. Crawley would have learned that quickly enough. Had Ives not been given this mission and drawn his bastard brother into it, would one day Crawley have approached Mr. Fitzallen to obtain help with that sale?
“What are you smiling at?” Ives asked.
“A bit of potential irony. So, all is as set as it will be, it appears.”
“In exchange for his freedom, he will take me to where it was stored before the fire. The mere notion of doing so had him laughing for some reason.”
“Why not see if that big fellow Wiggins knows too? Then you won’t have to bargain. Lance may have terrified Wiggins enough he told everything he knows.”
“That is a good idea. We should go find out. Erasmus can ride atop the carriage, the lady inside, Crawley can walk, and you and I will take our horses.”
Ives began walking away.
“I think I will leave the rest to you,” Gareth said, stopping him. “And the lady is resting, I believe. She is tired, being of a delicate nature.”
Ives turned and walked back. “Feeling faint, was she?”
“Completely undone by the drama.”
“And you intend to stay behind and watch over her health?”
“Someone has to.”
“She has a sister. What are we to do about her?”
“Take her to her friends in the village. The Neville sisters. She will like that.”
Ives laughed lightly. “For the ladies’ sake, and their reputations, my intention is the village learn nothing of this kidnapping. I trust they also will be discreet?”
“Miss Russell is the soul of discretion. I am sure her sister will see the rightness of it too.”
Once more Ives walked away. “I will come when all is finished and tell you where we found what pictures could be retrieved, if we find any at all.”
“Better yet, write me a letter.”
CHAPTER27
The spring breeze drifted over Eva, stirring her anticipation. She lay immobile and listened to the sounds also entering through the window she had set ajar.
