Page 19

“Yes, I did get that impression when I took dictation from her,” she said. “She was certainly one of the most interesting clients I’ve had.”

Slater started to make another comment but he stopped abruptly. Ursula realized that he had gone quietly alert, his attention snagged by something or someone at the far end of the hall.

When she turned to follow his gaze she saw a well-dressed, distinguished-looking gentleman and an attractive lady in a yellow and blue gown.

The man was tall, blond and athletically built.

He carried himself with the sort of languid self-possession that came naturally to one who descended from several generations of wealth and status.

The lady appeared to come from the same world.

The two were examining the sensually rendered Venus.

“Time for us to leave,” Slater said.

It was a command, not a suggestion. Nor did he wait for a response. Instead, he gripped Ursula’s elbow and headed toward the rear entrance of the gallery. She did not resist.

“Something amiss?” she asked softly.

“Someone, not something.”

“I take it we are fleeing the exhibition because of the gentleman and the lady who just arrived?” she asked.

“We are not fleeing, damn it.”

But Slater immediately slowed his pace. She knew he had not liked the implication that he was running away from the newcomers.

“Well, then?” she prompted. “Why are we rushing off? Do we have a pressing appointment?”

“Take it from me, it’s best that Torrence and I do not find ourselves in the same room together,” Slater growled.

“So that is Lord Torrence, your partner on the Fever Island expedition?”

“And his wife, Lady Torrence.”

“I understand now why you wish to leave,” Ursula said. “If the gossipmongers and the press discover that you and Torrence were both seen in the same gallery together there would no doubt be some wild speculation.”

“Precisely.”

“But what is the point of trying to avoid Lord Torrence? There are bound to be future encounters between the two of you. The Polite World is a very small town in most respects. I suggest that you simply act as if there is nothing out of the ordinary occurring.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Slater said. He sounded as if his jaw was clenched tight. “But as it happens I don’t give a damn about Torrence or the gossips. It is you I am attempting to protect.”

“Me?” She was dumbfounded. “But I am not involved in your dispute with Torrence.”

“That may not prevent Torrence from attempting to find a way to use you to strike at me.”

This time she was genuinely shocked. “Surely that nonsense about the bad blood between the two of you is just so much fodder for the press and the penny dreadfuls.”

“Not all of it. For what it’s worth, it’s a one-sided feud. He is the one who has avoided me since my return, Ursula.”

“Hmm.”

“What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind. Just a fleeting thought. None of my concern, really.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Slater whisked her along the gallery, past urns, statues and assorted bits and pieces of Roman armor. They very nearly made good their escape. But just as they were about to go through the door a very large, very rotund figure appeared directly in their path.

“Roxton.” The round man’s jovial voice boomed the length of the gallery and bounced off the walls.

“Come to examine my collection, eh? I am honored, sir. Deeply honored. I’d heard that Torrence planned to put in an appearance but I must say it’s a surprise to see you here.

I was told that you don’t get out much these days.

Absolutely delighted that you made an exception for my little exhibition.

I trust you will introduce me to your companion? ”

They were caught, Ursula thought. Heads were turning. There was no escaping the scene. She could tell that Slater knew he was trapped. He brought her to a halt.

“Mrs. Kern, allow me to present Lord Pyne, the generous collector who donated these antiquities to the museum,” Slater said in cold, formal tones.

“Lord Pyne,” Ursula murmured.

“Mrs. Kern, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Pyne bowed over Ursula’s gloved hand.

Then he straightened abruptly. “Who’s that admiring my Venus?

I do believe it’s Torrence and his charming wife.

Well, well, well. Roxton and Torrence. Two of the most esteemed antiquities experts in England have come to inspect my artifacts. I am deeply gratified.”

“It is a very interesting collection,” Slater said. He tightened his grip on Ursula’s arm. “But I’m afraid Mrs. Kern and I must be off. We have a pressing engagement.”

“Of course, of course. But first you must give me your opinion on the Venus.” Pyne raised his voice, although that was not necessary. “I should like your views, as well, Torrence.”

“The figure is quite... robust,” Slater said.

Torrence and his wife took a few steps toward where Slater and Ursula stood with Pyne.

“Your Venus certainly draws the eye,” Torrence allowed. He avoided looking at Slater.

“And the ladies?” Pyne chuckled. “I would be remiss if I did not ask for your opinions.”

“I know very little about antiquities,” Lady Torrence said in a strained voice. “That is my husband’s area of expertise.”

She managed a demure smile but she was watching Slater with eyes that were wide with an expression that bordered on horror.

“Mrs. Kern?” Pyne prompted. “What do you think of my Venus?”

“She is obviously the star attraction in your fascinating collection, sir,” Ursula said. “And now, if you don’t mind, Mr. Roxton is correct. We do have another appointment.”

“I would not dream of delaying you,” Pyne said.

“Run along, both of you. And I thank you, again, Roxton, for coming here to view my collection this morning. Your positive opinion, combined with Torrence’s, will ensure that these antiquities will attract any number of visitors.

Indeed, I expect your visit and your comments will be in the morning papers.

Next thing I know, the Pyne Collection will be famous around the world. ”

“I have no doubt of that,” Slater said.

Evidently concluding that there was no longer any point trying to evade Torrence and his wife, he took the frontal assault approach to the problem. Instead of trying to escape via the rear door, he tightened his grip on Ursula’s elbow and guided her back toward the main entrance of the gallery.

The path took them directly past Torrence and the terrified Lady Torrence. Ursula gave the woman what she hoped was a polite, reassuring smile but that only seemed to further alarm Lady Torrence. She clutched her husband’s arm.

Torrence watched Slater the way a man might watch a tiger, as if he was waiting for the beast to spring.

Slater took the initiative, nodding curtly but never slowing his pace.

Torrence’s jaw tightened and his eyes clenched at the corners.

He acknowledged the greeting with an equally brusque inclination of his head.

Ursula felt Slater hesitate almost imperceptibly.

She got the impression that he was contemplating the possibility of turning back to confront Torrence.

Determinedly, she kept going, forcing him to keep up with her.

“Damn,” Slater said. But he said it so that only she could hear.

Ursula did not halt until they were safely outside on the street.

“That was a trifle awkward,” she said after a moment of acute silence. “I think Lady Torrence was actually afraid that you and her husband would come to blows right there in the middle of the museum.”

“Why would I engage in a fight with Torrence?”

“Well, according to some sources, there is a possibility that your former partner and supposed friend deliberately triggered the trap that nearly killed you in those temple caves. Following the disaster, Torrence sailed home to London with the fabulous treasure the two of you discovered—a treasure which has since disappeared, I might add. Some would say that sort of thing is sufficient to engender a deep dislike and distrust between two men.”

Slater glanced at her, amused. Sunlight glinted on the lenses of his spectacles. “What sources are you citing, Mrs. Kern?”

“Just the usual. The gutter press.”

“I thought so. I’m afraid they are somewhat misinformed.”

She smiled. “I’m shocked. The press? Misinformed?”

“Not all of the facts are wrong. But one thing is clear—Torrence hates me for having survived Fever Island,” Slater exhaled heavily. “I have no idea why, but there is no escaping that conclusion.”

“Oh, no,” Ursula said quickly. “That wasn’t hate that I detected in him or in his wife, either.”

“What, then?”

“Fear.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It does if he thinks you blame him for what happened on Fever Island. I realize it is none of my business but would you care to tell me exactly what did occur?”

“Considering that the story of our encounter with Lord and Lady Torrence will no doubt be the chief topic of conversation at breakfast all over London tomorrow morning, you have a right to some answers.”