“It is special here, Ivan. Thank you for bringing me to meet them. I am truly honored to know your great-great-grandparents. I think they would approve of what you’re doing here, very much so. You’re saving their legacy of priceless art the whole world should be able to enjoy instead of being forgotten away in a beautiful mansion on the coast of County Down… where it’s at great liability being stored unsecured in a private home.”

I gave her a head bow. “I know that too, Gabrielle. I cannot secure it in my house—not properly. I know you are correct, and that is why I need you here to help me with the art.”

I need you here anyway… for me, too.

“Of course. I am going to help you with the art, and we’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

“Thank you. I know with it now in your very capable hands you’ll tell me what’s best.”

“I found Imogene’s journals from the beginning of her marriage up through five years and hope to shed provenance on the creation of some of the paintings in the collection. I’m really looking forward to getting into them.” She looked happy about the prospect of reading.

“Gabrielle, if you had to make a valuation on the works you’ve seen thus far as a whole, could you make a guess—give me a ballpark on what it’s worth?”

“Oh boy. I figured you were going to ask me at some point and it’s just not as easy as appraising a single work and then tabulating a total. Fine art sales are the last big money investments which are unregulated by government. Paintings may have no ceiling at all, particularly when works come onto the market previously unknown—as is pretty much your entire collection from what I can tell.”

“Really? That much of the collection is unknown?”

“I’m afraid so, but there’s more, Ivan. I’ve spotted several possible Dutch Masters like Bruegel, Vermeer, and what looks clearly to be a Van Gogh with the usual ‘Vincent’ painted on the vase of white camellias maybe? Not to mention at least six, but possibly more unknown Mallertons, just scattered here and there around your house. I haven’t even been in all the rooms yet, but now that I understand his relationship with your family, I’m betting there will be more.”

“Why am I getting the feeling you’re about to drop a bomb on me, Gabrielle?” I had to ask because I could see she was starting to get stressed the more she talked about the art. Her skin was flushed, and she began wringing her hands the longer she spoke.

“Because there is a bomb drop, and it could be a very big bomb, and it makes me nervous just speaking his name out loud!” she wailed.

“Come here, kitten, let me hold you while you tell me.” I drew her against me and leaned up against a tree and waited. “You just start talking when you’re ready, and I will listen to every word, okay?”