“Almost all,” Chloe reminded him. “There’s the small matter of an angel vase.”
Tommy perked up. “Can we smash it?”
All six pairs of eyes swung to the mantel, where a cherubic porcelain angel hugged a slender crystal receptacle just large enough to hold a single rose.
“We cannot smash it,” Chloe said firmly. “Even though it was against Bean’s will, old Faircliffe entrusted it to us as collateral.”
“Can we send it via post?” Elizabeth asked hopefully.
“We can leave it in the duke’s stables. I happen to possess an exact copy of the Faircliffe livery.” Tommy’s eyes sparkled. “The next time His Grace enters the mews…boom!Saccharine angel, right where he least expects it.”
Graham shook his finger. “You’re wicked. I like it.”
“Where’s his smile?” came Marjorie’s loud voice. It was the first time she’d spoken since Chloe’s arrival. Some days she didn’t speak at all, but when she did, the Wynchesters had learned to listen.
“Whose smile?” Chloe asked.
Marjorie pointed at Puck frolicking in the middle.
Chloe stepped closer.
Marjorie’s finger shook. “Bean always smiles.”
The other siblings crowded about the table.
“She’s right,” Jacob said in disbelief. “What happened to his smile?”
Marjorie frowned. “The brushstrokes are different, too.”
Chloe’s throat went dry. “It’s the wrongpainting?”
“It can’t be,” Elizabeth protested. “It came from Faircliffe. Both times!”
Jacob set down the kitten. “Never trust a duke. They’re slipperier than snail slime.”
“I can’t believe there are two copies.” Chloe covered her face with her hands. “And I stole the wrong one.”
“Well, we’ll just have to find therightone.” Tommy narrowed her eyes. “No dukes shall get in our way.”
Jacob stood tall. “We do this for Bean.”
The siblings touched their hands to their hearts and lifted their fingers to the sky. “For Bean!”
Bean grinned back at them from over the mantel as if he knew they would succeed.
“He would be proud to know the new Duke of Faircliffe has finally acknowledged our existence,” Elizabeth said. “Well, Chloe’s, anyway.”
Jacob brightened. “And he owes her a favor! If he still has our painting, you can demand it back, and this time he must comply.”
Chloe made an aggrieved noise. “His Eternal Disagreeableness made a point to specify ‘no money’ and ‘no objects.’ He tried to say no to something else, but I slammed the door in his face.”
“What kind of ‘favor’ is that?” Tommy said in outrage. “Why can’t Faircliffe just be reasonable?”
“He’s self-righteous,” Graham replied, “like his father. Some aristocrats believe their wants are the only ones that matter. All they care about is themselves.”
“Even if he hadn’t put limitations on his ‘favor,’ Faircliffe cannot be trusted,” Elizabeth reminded them. “We purchased that painting and the old duke stole it. That’s not honorable.”
“He’s a cad,” Tommy agreed. “He cannot be reasoned with.”
