There would be more whispers about where the money had come from, but Caro would know—as would anyone who bothered to find out—that the source was legitimate, a painting inherited by her mother-in-law and bestowed upon Caro and Leo.
“I suppose you’ll take your commission,” the dowager said to Eamon with her usual cynicism.
Eamon shook his head. “Not at all. I will broker it as a favor to you and your daughter-in-law, and my liege, Leo.”
The dowager’s brows rose. “Then I will revise my opinion of you, Stone. You are nothing like your father.”
Something flickered in Eamon’s eyes. “I believe that is the best compliment I’ve ever received, Your Grace. Thank you.”
“Now, then, none of your beguiling. Caro, will you sell it?”
Caro pondered a moment longer, then drew a deep breath, and nodded. “I think so.”
“Good girl.” The dowager gave her a cool nod and made her slow way back to her chair. “Singleton, bring me a fresh pot of chocolate, if you please. This one’s gone cold.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” Singleton bowed, his smooth self. “Shall I take the picture down to the gallery?” he asked Caro.
“Please, Singleton. Thank you.”
“Take good care of it,” Eamon said as he relinquished the painting to Singleton’s slim, gloved hands. “I worked very hard for that.”
“Of course, sir.” Singleton looked down his nose, affronted, and slid out of the room, making certain the painting didn’t brush the doorframe.
The dowager picked up the letter she’d been perusing, proceeding to ignore Caro and Eamon, though Caro saw the paper tremble.
Caro seized Eamon’s arm and half dragged him into the hall, closing the door behind them.
“You can’t mean not to take a commission,” she said in a near whisper when she faced him. “It cost you much to obtain that, did it not? Maman believes everyone ought to cater to us out of respect, but that is not the way of the world.”
Eamon quirked a smile. “Never worry. The buyer has offered to clear my expenses, but the twenty-five hundred for the painting is all yours. Also, this is a private sale, so Cheswell will not swoop in for his cut, either.”
“You will not tell me who this buyer is?”
“Not yet.” Eamon brushed a lock of hair from Caro’s face, his smile deepening.
Caro shivered under his touch. “You do like to tease.”
“Only when it makes your eyes sparkle.”
Caro’s heart was full. Though she stood in a hallway where her mother-in-law, son, or Singleton could spring upon her at any moment, she wound her arms around Eamon and pulled him to her for a long and heartfelt kiss.
Chapter 24
Eamon returned Sam’s money the next evening, once more in Maiden Lane.
Sam scowled at him across his table. “Ye should have sent word and waited for my courier.”
“I wanted no chance it wouldn’t reach you.” Eamon plunked himself down on the bench and pushed a brown-paper parcel to Sam.
“If a footpad had followed ye, I’d even now be watching your body be pulled out of the Thames.”
“I’m a little more careful than that.” Eamon accepted the strong brandy brought to him but didn’t drink.
In truth, he’d noted plenty of shadows slipping after him when he’d departed Colonel Harper’s, leaving the painting there, and sought a hackney. And again, when he’d left the hackney in the Strand and walked up narrow streets to Maiden Lane.
Had thieves of the underworld known about his transaction and the funds he’d been carrying? Or was he being followed for different reasons?
Once he’d ducked into the tavern and walked straight to Sam, his trackers had lost interest.
