The Lady Travelers Guide To Larceny With A Dashing Stranger. Victoria Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ a firm with expertise in such matters to examine all the records as well as investigators searching for more. I cannot confront Lady Bascombe until I have solid evidence regarding ownership. Once I do, I can demand her proof of provenance. But it scarcely matters until she recovers the painting.” He paused. “I intend to be present when she does. Now that I know exactly where the painting is, I will not allow it to vanish from sight again.”

      Roz frowned. “You don’t trust her?”

      “I don’t know her,” he said. “But I do know of her. Her reputation does not inspire confidence.”

      Roz’s brow furrowed in confusion then her expression cleared. “Oh. You’re speaking of Wilhelmina Bascombe?”

      “Is there another Lady Bascombe?” Harriet asked.

      “I don’t think so.” Dante studied his sister. “Do you know her?”

      “I wouldn’t say I know her but I believe we met once in passing although it was some time ago.” Roz thought for a moment. “I rather liked her if I recall. You’re right though—she and her husband were part of a fast crowd always engaged in some sort of outing or entertainment or activity verging on the edge of outright scandal. There was talk about her husband’s indiscretions, as well, although I don’t recall ever hearing anything about her. Still, in that particular group... Now that I think about it, I don’t believe I’ve heard anything at all about her since her husband died and that must be at least two years ago.”

      “Apparently, she was in seclusion until recently.” A fact Dante’s investigator had included in the dossier he had prepared. He had also uncovered information about Lady Bascombe’s finances. It appeared the widow was forced to sell her country house and various other items to settle her husband’s debts and had very little left, although Dante assumed she had reserved enough to pay off the loan and take possession of the Portinari. Her financial state also explained why she was leading a tour rather than simply traveling to Venice on her own.

      “One can scarcely blame her for wishing to leave the country for a bit,” Roz said. “Put the past behind her and reminders of her husband, that sort of thing. Although shepherding a group of Americans sounds rather daunting to me.”

      “I believe this is in the manner of a favor to an elderly relative who founded some sort of travel society for ladies. It is my understanding that without the presence of Lady Bascombe the tour was in jeopardy of not proceeding at all.”

      “It’s quite kind of her, then, isn’t it?” Roz nodded thoughtfully. “But I suppose it would indeed serve to take her mind off her loss.”

      “I would imagine. Difficult time for her, I would think. Not at all the time to confront her about the painting,” Dante added with an appropriately concerned frown. It was not entirely feigned. The more he’d learned about Lady Bascombe the more she intrigued him. But surely she couldn’t be as interesting as she sounded. More likely she shared a great deal in common with Miss Pauling, at least when it came to character. And that was not the least bit interesting. At least not to him.

      “Poor woman,” Roz murmured.

      “Poor woman?” Harriet stared at her mother. “The lady and her husband were obviously engaged in all sorts of improprieties to have been the subject of so much gossip. There is always an element of truth behind any morsel of rumor—that’s what you always say.”

      “Yes,” Roz began, “but—”

      “Furthermore, one has only oneself to blame when one’s husband wanders.” Harriet pinned her mother with a firm look. “Don’t you say that, as well?”

      “I might have said something like that.” The oddest look of panic showed in Roz’s eyes.

      “And haven’t you warned me my entire life that dreadful things can happen to those who misbehave, so it is important that one’s behavior be exemplary?” Harriet aimed the words at her mother with the directness of an inquisitor questioning a heretic.

      “Well, yes, but—”

      “It seems to me this is simply the price of fast living,” Harriet said in a lofty manner.

      “Good Lord, what have I done?” Roz’s eyes narrowed. “Regardless of how one chooses to behave, there are few things worse in this life for a woman than losing her husband. Unless one’s husband leaves a great deal of money, the finances of a widow are precarious at best. As I said, I don’t really know Lady Bascombe but I would suspect if she has remained in seclusion and only recently returned to London—” she glanced at her brother and he nodded “—then she must have cared a great deal for her husband.”

      “‘The wages of sin is death.’” Harriet smirked.

      “Only in the bible, dear,” Roz snapped. “And while I am pleased that you have obviously listened to every bit of wisdom I have ever imparted, I am hoping you have heard me when I have talked about compassion or sympathy, as well. Especially among fellow women, whether we are acquainted with them or not.”

      Harriet had the good grace to blush in spite of her defiant attitude. “I suppose.”

      “Perhaps,” Dante said casually, “it might be beneficial for Harriet to make the acquaintance of a new circle of young women. And see a bit of the world in the process.”

      “Dante.” Roz blew a long breath. “I have a great deal to do and no time to go off wandering Europe.”

      “Besides, Mr. Goodwin promised to call on me.” Harriet breathed a dreamy sigh, obviously in the throes of delighted anticipation.

      Roz frowned. “Bertram Goodwin?”

      “Yes.” Harriet dimpled. “He’s quite dashing and very clever.”

      “He’s the third son of an earl with no prospects whatsoever and a questionable reputation. And when I say questionable...I am being kind.” Roz stared. “And his mother is...well, suffice it to say she is not one of my favorite people. And I like nearly everyone.”

      “Nonsense, Mother. You’re just being stuffy.” Harriet sniffed. “Mr. Goodwin’s reputation is no worse than most young men of my acquaintance. But he is amusing and handsome and...” Her chin raised in a determined manner. “And I like him. I like him quite a lot. Why, I might even be in love with him.”

      “You’ll be no such thing. He is entirely inappropriate and a very bad influence.” Roz’s gaze locked with her daughter’s. “I will not permit him to call on you.”

      “Regardless.” Harriet crossed her arms over her chest. “I fully intend to see him whenever possible.”

      Mother and daughter glared at each other. Tension hung in the air and Dante resisted the urge to step back, out of range of whatever might happen next. He’d never witnessed a confrontation between these two before. His gaze shifted from his sister to his niece and back. Regardless of how much he wished to recover the Portinari, was it wise to join a group made up of mothers and daughters? Still, one did what was necessary. He braced himself.

      “Did I mention I would be paying for everything? I will take care of all expenses,” he said in what he thought was a helpful manner.

      “Your father will like that.” Roz’s gaze never left her daughter’s.

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