He seemed disappointed by that. “Ah, everything on the up and up, then. Oh well, I’ll get over it, I’m sure.”

He wasn’t making much sense again, but no matter, he seemed harmless enough. He was about the baron’s age, not nearly as tall and rather chunky of build, with light blue eyes and a rag-mop of unruly black curls that seemed designed to look so unkempt. He would even be considered handsome if one didn’t compare him to the baron, who was too handsome.

Since he didn’t seem inclined to leave, simply stood there in the doorway sighing as he gazed at her, she thought to ask, “Did you have an appointment with the baron?”

“Not really, just my weekly check on his progress, though he was probably expecting me, since I show up about this time each week. I’m a bit impatient to receive what he’s finding for me.”

“Which is?” she asked rather stiffly, thinking he might be the gentleman who had wanted their house so badly that Vincent had bought it out from under them. But then she blushed. “I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of me.”

“Not a’tall. It’s a painting. A special painting that I simply must own for myself. Price is no object. I know, I know, silly of me to put so much stock in possessing something, but there you have it. I’m the first to admit I’m eccentric. And I’ve run out of things to spend my money on. A deplorable state of affairs. Rather boring, too.”

She smiled. She couldn’t imagine anyone so rich that it became boring. And as long as he wasn’t the fellow who had coveted her home, she had nothing against him, was even grateful to him for taking her mind off of what she expected to happen later tonight.

“I’m sure you’d be welcome to stay for dinner,” she offered. “I don’t think the baron will be joining us, though. I’m not even sure he’s at home just now.”

“Oh, he is. The butler wouldn’t have let me in the door otherwise. I suppose I should seek him out.” Another sigh. “But I’ll see you again soon. Depend upon it. Think I might be stopping by daily now for reports. Yes, I just might.”

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

“HOW MUCH IS SHE GOING TO COST ME?”

It took a moment for Vincent to realize that Jonathan Hale wasn’t talking about the painting he’d hired Vincent to find for him, which he had been known to refer to as “she,” because of its title, La Nymph. But only a moment, since he did happen to have been thinking about the same “she” when Jonathan entered his study.

He still asked, “Who?”

“That dazzling wench you’ve left to dine alone across the hall.”

Vincent stiffened. “She isn’t for sale.”