Page 224

M ADDIE PACED WHILE Verity and Ernest sat together and talked on a bench in the garden.

It was their big discussion. She was dying to hear it because if Ernest hurt Verity, if he shamed her or broke the engagement, she’d intervene and kick him out of the house herself.

But it was difficult to understand how the conversation went.

Both were flustered and agitated and waved a lot.

Only Ernest sometimes looked petrified, and Verity shook his arm with some strength as if to spill some good sense into him.

“What’s happening?” Mother stopped next to Maddie, jolting her. “Why are you spying on them? What are they talking about?”

Maddie lifted a shoulder. “Oh, nothing really. The duke is blackmailing Hector, using his affection for me and some nude pictures he has of Verity to force him to renounce his title.”

Mother’s gaze shot up. “You and your silly novels. If you don’t want to tell me, just say so.” She hurried away, her back straight. “I’ll ask Verity once she’s done.”

Maddie held her breath as Verity and Ernest walked towards the French doors. They didn’t hold hands. Bad sign. She held the door open for her and studied her sister’s face to understand if Verity’s heart had been broken.

“How are you?” Maddie took Verity’s hand, ready to punch Ernest.

“Tired.” She turned towards Ernest and hooked her arm through his. “But I think we’ve understood each other.”

Ernest raked a hand through his already dishevelled hair, his face turning the colour of raspberry jam.

“If there’s a good thing about the incident in the Serpentine is that it made me realise how much I love Verity.

” He paused. “I’m not going to lie. Those pictures made my blood boil and I want to chase those men down and punch them senseless and beat them into a pulp and then?—”

“I think Maddie got the point, darling.” Verity stroked his cheek.

He took her face and gave her a passionate kiss that caused Maddie to blush.

He poured more than love into that kiss.

There was a healthy dose of possessiveness and carnal desire, too.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Verity got pregnant after that kiss.

Gosh, Maddie could see their tongues. And could they breathe?

No one could survive that long without air.

She cleared her throat, shifting her weight. “So I suppose everything is all right between you two.”

They broke the kiss, taking deep breaths as if emerging from a deep dive.

“I love Verity more than anything,” Ernest said, having eyes only for Verity. “I’ll face the world for her.”

Verity giggled and brushed a lock of hair from her red cheek.

Maddie hugged him. “Thank you, Ernest. You’re wonderful.” Not as wonderful as Hector though. “What are we going to do now?”

Ernest draped an arm on each sister’s shoulder. “We face the world.”

Once again, a sense of impotence and uselessness pressed against Hector’s chest. Maddie had told him Ernest was ready to face the scandal and marry Verity, which was great, but nothing could hide the fact Hector didn’t know how to force Quentin to leave.

At least Maddie was happy for Verity.

He held her hand in his parlour. “Listen, a man like Quentin must have secrets we can use against him. It’s a matter of time.

We’ll find something to force him to forget about Verity and leave this house.

We might talk to Dr. Smith. Perhaps he’ll share some of Quentin’s secrets.

Or what if he really stole The Lady of the Lake ? ”

“He seems too clever to be exposed easily. But I guess you’re right. We can dig into his life and find some secrets we can use...oh, look at us. Plotting to blackmail someone.” She rubbed her forehead. “Good heaven. I’m like Mother.”

“Quentin pushed us to a corner to start with, and I’ll take full responsibility for whatever action we’re going to take.” He kissed her cheek. “Let me fetch you a glass of water.”

He had to do something to keep his hands busy because, despite his brave words, he didn’t know how to help Verity. His hand trembled so much that when he lifted the pitcher, it slipped out of his finger. The noise of the glass shattering shocked him out of his stupor.

Water soaked the carpet and the dark wooden floor. For a split second, he glanced at the door, worrying about what his mother would say. Sadness crushed his chest again as he crouched to collect the pieces of glass.

“Let me help.” Maddie knelt next to him.

He blocked her wandering hand. “No. I’ll do it. We already had an incident involving sharp glass shards, and it didn’t end well.”

She flashed a tired smile and straightened. “Will you ever forgive yourself? Because I forgave you a long time ago.” She leant next to the ugly painting.

“I will, when you’ve realised your dream and become an artist.”

She shrugged. “Certainly, I won’t paint anything as ugly as—” She fell silent, staring at the painting as if seeing it for the first time.

“What is it?” He set the shard aside and mopped the water with his handkerchief and the napkins.

She pointed a finger at a corner of the painting. “Look. The artist, and I use the term loosely, added the date and the title of the painting.”

“As if anyone would want to remember the day that atrocity was produced.” He gave up soaking the water.

“No, it’s that there’s a blotch on number one.” She inched closer to the painting and narrowed her gaze.

“And?”

“It might be a code, like the one in Verity’s letters.”

He frowned. “What code? What letters?”

“If I read only the first word...no, that’s not correct. Too few words. But if I read only the first letter of the words, I get...un...der. That’s it. The solution to the riddle is ‘ under ,’” Maddie scratched at a corner of the painting.

She looked adorable, all focused and flushed, but he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“I know the painting is revolting,” he said, “but if you want to ruin it, I can think of a few better and faster options.”

She beamed so widely that her green eyes shone from within after she lifted an inch of the canvas. “Your Grace, we must summon your cousin. We have something to tell him.”

Maddie’s heart thumped heavily when his cousin entered the parlour.

Hector had been ready to renounce his family’s legacy to help her family.

Buying time was a good idea, but she didn’t believe it’d help.

Ernest was right. Hector had to be the duke to help the workers.

There wasn’t any other solution. But she could save Verity too because underneath the ugly painting was The Lady of the Lake .

Or at least she hoped so. If the blotch on the number one was the key to solve the riddle, then if she took only the first letter of the place, name of the artist, and title of the painting formed the word under, which might be a coincidence or not.

Why would the duke leave a clue about where The Lady of the Lake was ?

Well, that was a question she’d have to ask him.

The problem was that she couldn’t simply rip the ugly painting off to see what was underneath.

She might ruin The Lady of the Lake if she’d guessed right.

The procedure to reveal Mrs. Blanchet’s work would be a delicate one, and she didn’t want to rush it.

She’d lifted a corner of the canvas, revealing something else underneath, but it could be anything.

Many artists, who struggled to make ends meet, recycled used canvas by painting something else on them or adding a cheap layer on top of an old painting.

And judging by how poorly talented the painter of the ugly painting was, she could easily believe the artist had financial troubles.

Besides, if she damaged the painting beyond recognition, she couldn’t prove Quentin had stolen it.

But she could provoke him into confessing.

“Have you decided what to do?” Blackburn gestured at the chairs in front of him. He slouched on the sofa and spread his arms over the backrest, looking like a king about to pardon a criminal.

Hector didn’t sit down. “We have. Despite your despicable behaviour.”

His cousin chuckled. “This is only a business transaction. Nothing personal. I don’t care about what Miss Verity Debenham does with her time.

But, alas, society has other standards.” He caressed his chin.

“In fact, I’d be interested in knowing Verity more intimately.

Those pictures—” He never ended the sentence.

“You bastard.” Hector lunged, jumping across the room with one swift move.

Maddie shot up to her feet as well. “Hector. Leave him.”

Breathing heavily, Hector removed himself from Quentin, his muscles bulging. Goodness, it was the wrong moment, but he looked so handsome, all bothered and angry. Her lady’s parts tingled.

She waited for Hector to release his cousin before placing a hand on the painting. “We agree to your terms if you agree to give me this painting.”

The duke laughed and patted his hair into place. “Ridiculous. What does that horrible painting have to do with anything?”

Maddie shrugged. “If you don’t like it, why do you care?”

He showed his teeth, not smiling anymore. “That worthless painting stays here.”

“If it’s worthless…” She snatched a poker from the hearth and pointed it at the painting. “I guess that if I scratch it, you wouldn’t care.” She hoped he did something to stop her because she’d have a fit if she ruined Mrs. Blanchet’s masterpiece.

“You silly bitch!” He lunged, but Hector was ready and tackled him with one smooth move.

She winced as a thud resounded when Hector slammed his cousin on the floor. “I’m going to take this painting, because The Lady of the Lake is underneath it. Don’t deny it. I have proof.” She didn’t, and her voice shook when she said it, but hey, she had to play the part.

Under Hector’s weight, the duke paled. “You are bluffing.” He lacked his usual smugness.

“I’m not.” She trailed the tip of the poker over the painting. “You made me desperate, and I’m ready to ruin The Lady of the Lake unless you do as we say.” Not that she knew what that was. What were the terms she should propose?

Hector grabbed him by the collar and raised him, saving her from having to find a solution. “Destroy Verity’s pictures and leave my title to me, and we won’t involve the police.”

Maddie shifted her weight. Hector’s proposal was good, and yet she wanted to involve the police and see Quentin Wentworth behind bars. But dragging him to court would likely mean having to show those pictures for the inquest. Oh, bother.

The duke closed his eyes and sagged against Hector. “Why couldn’t you stay on that damn island?”

Still holding the poker, Maddie loomed over him. “Why the code?” She had to ask just in case she was wrong.

He shrugged himself free from Hector’s grip, his hair dishevelled. “It wasn’t my idea.” His upper lip went up in a snarl. “There are five more paintings identical to that one.”

“Good gracious.” She put a hand on her chest. More ugly paintings around? It was like a disease.

“Annabelle—”

“Annabelle?” she and Hector said together.

“She wants a share but doesn’t trust me. That’s why she marked the painting to make sure I didn’t sell it and replace with a copy. It’s a special paint, the one with the title. It can’t be deleted.”

“Mrs. Blanchet will be happy to have her painting back.” Maddie dropped the poker and allowed herself to smile at the ugly painting. She felt vindicated because no artist would have ever produced something so horrible. The painting was only a disguise, clever but still as ugly as starvation.

Hector swept her off her feet. “Marry me,” he said with his usual honesty.

She laughed, bursting with love. “Yes, with all my heart.”

Quentin rolled his eyes. “I might vomit.”

“Cousin, don’t look so sad,” Hector said. “It’s only a business transaction.”