“Where did you purchase the drawing?”
“From a respected gallery in Venice. That city is where Dürer lived for a time.” Bianchi picked up his napkin and lowered his head as he settled the linen over his lap. “I have shown the receipt of my purchase to both Mr. Barrett and Mr. Gillies.” He smiled at Lizzie. “The oysters are always very fresh here, Lady Greywood. I wonder if you can be tempted?”
As Lizzie demurred, Jason wondered why Bianchi employed an Englishman. Why not an expert from Italy or France or even Germany? He had not exhibited his art in London before. While he drank his wine, he decided to locate Mr. Gillies and check the credentials of this Mr. Barrett, to ensure all was as the baron said. The matter had been resolved too hastily for his liking. Shouldn’t the drawing be studied with more care? And compared with Dürer’s other works?
“I’m afraid I must leave you directly after luncheon,” he said, aware that he would not be missed because Lizzie and the baron were now sharing a private smile. He would return to the Lamb and Flag and call again at the Kinsey’s afterward, hopefully with news.
***
After Mr. Thorburn had left the house, Helen slipped into the library. She opened the portfolio and sat down to read through the pile of letters, drawings, and her father’s notes. She could understand little of the correspondence from Mr. Volta, as the man’s hand was a scrawl and Italian was not one of the languages in which she was proficient. What she did discern made her cheeks flush with excitement. She couldn’t wait to show this to Peyton.
A knock at the door made her hastily return the letters to the portfolio. She was inspecting one of the new additions to her father’s collection when Mrs. Chance came in.
“Yes, Mrs. Chance?”
“Milady, we will be short one housemaid for the weekend of the ball.”
“Oh? Who have we lost, Mrs. Chance? And why?”
“It’s Alice. She is unwell.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What seems to be the matter?”
“A stomach complaint. Fiske plans to ask your mother when she comes home ifMr. Belvederecan be called. But Alice may have recovered by tomorrow.”
Helen’s chest tightened. “Has anyone else been ill?”
“No. It seems an isolated case.”
Helen jumped up. “I’ll go and see her.”
“Should another maid be employed in the interim, milady? I would ask Lady Kinsey, but she’s been away all day, and with the ball approaching…”
“An excellent idea. Send Jeremy to the employment agency please, Mrs. Chance. It’s short notice, but please try anyway.”
Helen hurried up to Alice’s room. She found the maid hunched over in her bed, her face startlingly pale.
“What is the matter, Alice?” she asked with another lurch of fear.
“I don’t know what it can be, Lady Helen. I haven’t felt myself for a week, but the pains are worse today.”
“Do you think you might have eaten something that upset you?”
“No. Just the regular meals Cook serves us.”
Helen sat on the bed. “We’ll have you well in no time. The doctor will be here soon.”
“Oh, milady! I can’t have him looking at me stomach. It’s not proper.”
“I shall ensure another woman is present in the room, Alice. Mr. Belvedere is an experienced and discreet doctor and will behave in a perfectly correct manner.”
A spasm of pain crossed her face. “If you’re sure, Lady Helen.”
Helen squeezed Alice’s hand. “I am. The doctor will give you something to make you feel better. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”
Alice lay back weakly. “I do hope so. With the ball in a week and guests coming to stay. Who will do me work?”
“That has already been taken care of. You are not to worry about the ball, Alice. Just rest.”
