Page 10 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
Lord Whilton sauntered off and soon Flora was on the dance floor again, but somehow the lustre had gone from the evening.
She learned from Aunt Farnleigh that Mr Talacre had taken his leave while she was waltzing with the Viscount and for once Flora found herself wishing that she might go, too.
However, that was not possible and she chided herself for her selfishness.
Lord Whilton was making a rare appearance at the assembly and it would be churlish of her to drag him away early from the card room.
* * *
The sun was shining when Matt made his second visit to Whilton Hall.
He followed the circuitous drive that led to the redbrick carriage house and stable block, where he stopped to look across at the moated manor house, its creamy stone walls and the painted timber and rendering all reflected in the still waters of the moat.
Access to the Hall was via a stone bridge and an imposing medieval gatehouse, where this morning, the faded oak doors in the arched entrance were closed against intruders.
Matt left his horse with a groom and crossed the bridge. As he approached the gatehouse a small wicket in one of the doors opened and a footman invited him to step through. Across the courtyard at the entrance door, an elderly butler was waiting to escort him into Lord Whilton’s presence.
He was shown into an oak-panelled drawing room with large, glazed bays on two sides that filled the room with light, somewhat reduced by the colourful stained-glass panels of heraldic symbols at the top of each window.
A huge stone chimney piece dominated the room and the painted plaster walls displayed a warlike selection of swords, shields and pikes, the spaces between filled with dark portraits.
As for the furniture, everything was constructed of heavily carved dark wood.
Matt thought this must once have been the manor’s hall, a relic of an earlier age, and it did not surprise him to find the Viscount sitting in a high-backed oak armchair, like some medieval lord holding court.
It was all a little theatrical—he half expected Whilton to put out his hand and insist that Matt kneel and kiss his ring.
The Viscount pushed himself slowly out of his chair and scooped up some sheets of paper from a table beside him.
‘Good day, to you, Mr…’ He glanced at the papers. ‘Mr Talacre.’
If Whilton’s intention was to intimidate his visitor, he had failed this time, thought Matt, amused. He inclined his head.
‘I see you found my letters.’
‘Yes.’ Whilton gestured to a chair. ‘Do sit down, Mr Talacre. You appear to believe I have a statue of yours here at Whilton Hall.’
‘It is not merely my belief, my lord. I have documents and letters to corroborate my claim.’ He slipped one hand into his coat and drew out a large packet, which he placed on the sideboard before sitting down. ‘Copies of everything are here, verified and signed by a London attorney.’
The Viscount steepled his fingers. ‘I purchased that particular statue in good faith. It is perfect in its setting.’
‘It is even more perfect in the setting it was commissioned to fill,’ replied Matt. ‘You bought a stolen item, my lord. It must be returned.’
‘You do not appear to understand, Mr Talacre. I am a collector of beautiful objects. But you know that, you have seen my fiancée.’
The Viscount was watching him closely and Matt was careful not to react. It surprised him that his host could talk of Flora Warenne in the same breath as an inanimate stone figure, but that was not his concern. He waited for Lord Whilton to continue.
‘I appreciate fine stonework; it speaks of longevity, power. Permanence.’ The Viscount waved a hand towards the magnificent chimney piece that dominated the room.
‘You see how the overmantel here is ornately carved. The shields denote the Gask family arms through the years, altered and enhanced by successive alliances.’
‘And the large wooden shield at the centre? ’
‘That is my own family arms, the red lion rampant of the Gasks.’
Matt inclined his head. ‘And what, exactly, has this to do with my Rysbrack statue?’
‘I dispute your claim, Mr Talacre. And besides, the Rysbrack is now in situ here and it is very fine. I like it. Perhaps we could come to an agreement.’
‘Such as?’
‘I will give you the difference between what I paid and the market price.’
It was Matt’s turn to smile. ‘Thank you, but no. That sculpture should be at Bellemonte, next to Aphrodite, his goddess.’
‘Aphrodite?’ The Viscount’s brows rose.
‘Rysbrack called them after the Greek gods, you see, not the Roman. Whichever names you use, both statues belong to Bellemonte Pleasure Gardens.’
‘There, I believe, we must disagree.’
The Viscount fixed his cold blue eyes on Matt, whose gaze never wavered, and he replied in the same level tone that his host had used.
‘No, my lord. You must agree to return my property.’
A momentary flash of anger crossed Lord Whilton’s face and Matt wondered if he was about to be ejected from the house. But no. The Viscount laughed softly.
‘Oh, I think not, Mr Talacre. You see, I am not minded to do so. ’
‘Then my lawyers will be in touch. Good day to you, Lord Whilton.’
‘One moment.’
Matt was already moving towards the door but he turned back.
‘Let us not be hasty,’ purred Lord Whilton. ‘It is possible I may be persuaded to change my mind. You interest me, Mr Matthew Talacre. I should like to know you better and learn more of these gardens you talk of. Dine with me here, tonight.’
The invitation surprised Matt.
‘Your Lordship is all kindness. Sadly, I have another engagement.’ He paused. ‘The Antiquarians’ lecture, at the Whilton Arms.’
A flicker of dissatisfaction flickered across the Viscount’s face but he recovered quickly and waved one white hand in a languid manner.
‘No matter. Wednesday, then.’ The Viscount’s lip curled. ‘If you are free, that is?’
‘Very well. I have no engagements on Wednesday.’
With a bow Matthew withdrew. It was not the result he had been hoping for, but at least the man had not refused outright to sell him back the statue. He could spare a few more days in Whilton, if there was a possibility of settling this matter without recourse to the law.