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The display of Lady Percival was indeed a hit. She’d been set up as a tutorial on the conserving process as her restoration was only partially complete. And Brynne, of course, was credited as conservator for the project. As we went in to be seated for dinner, mention was made of her discovery in the welcome speech. The look of pride on her face was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. All of the proceeds for tonight’s event went to support the Rothvale Foundation for Advancement of the Arts and as I looked around the room, could see big money and old names among the guests. It seemed that Mallerton was experiencing a renaissance of sorts, and Brynne’s disclosure of what he’d painted had helped generate interest in his work, and as a result, the Rothvale charity.

“Brynne, your Lady Percival is something else,” Gabrielle said. “I got a good look at her when I arrived. I love how they are displaying her as an opportunity for teaching about the conserving methods and process that goes into a treasure like her. And, Ethan, you were instrumental in solving the mystery too, I hear.”

“Hardly instrumental. Just some word translation, but thank you, Gabrielle. I was glad to help my girl with a little French.” I winked at Brynne. “She looked so happy when she figured it all out.”

“I was ecstatic. That painting was a career maker for me. And I owe it all to you, baby.” She reached over and covered my hand with hers.

God, I loved when she did little gestures of affection like that. I brought her hand to my lips and didn’t care one bit who saw. I just didn’t care.

“I wonder where Ivan is. Do you think he’ll be here soon?” Brynne asked me.

My feelings of joy turned to pure jealousy in about two point five seconds and I am sure I frowned before I caught myself and accepted she was just being nice. I was reminded that I needed to let him know about the pictures from today, but damn, Ivan would drool all over Brynne when he saw how beautiful she looked tonight.

Brynne turned to her friend and started in excitedly, “Gab, I really hope he comes tonight, I so want you to meet Ethan’s cousin. He has a houseful of Mallerton’s that need cataloguing and God knows what else. You need to meet this man. I mean, you really need to.”

Gabrielle laughed, looking very happy and lovely in her own right, wearing a fitted green dress that did wonderful things paired with her coloring and matching eyes. This could be a very good fixation, I realized. An Ivan distracted by Gabrielle would be excellent for keeping him from flirting with Brynne. And something told me Ivan was going to be all over Gabrielle once he got a good look at her. I’d wager brass on it. And I’d win too.

“Hard to say, baby. Ivan sees time in his own set of parameters and he always has. It’s terribly annoying…” My words trailed off when I saw her across the table. Bugger me. Strawberry Blonde at three o’clock—all decked out and on the hunt. Not good.

I glanced away quickly and focused on Brynne. She looked over to where my eyes had just been and then back at me. Her mind was going in circles I am sure. Brynne’s a smart girl. I tried to play it cool and prayed that Pamela or Penelope did not remember any better than I did, but didn’t hold out much hope. She was a friend of Ivan’s and I just knew she would end up approaching me before the night was through. Where is the rule book for handling these awkward situations? Wasn’t it just plain vulgar to introduce the last person you’d shagged to the person you were shagging now? Ugh.

“Is everything okay?” Brynne asked.

“Yes.” I reached for my wineglass and put my arm on the back of Brynne’s chair. “Perfect.” I smiled.

“Oh look, there’s Paul.” She grinned and waved at my enemy who raised his glass in our direction. I’d expected that he’d be here because he’d said so that morning when I wanted to introduce him to the sidewalk. “Be nice. Don’t even think of having another tantrum in front of him again,” she muttered under her breath at me.

“Fine,” I said, raising my glass and mentally wishing for direct knowledge of the dark arts so I could curse him into a toad. Wait, he already was a toad; would have to be something different…a cockroach maybe?

“What are you thinking about?”

“How much I despise certain insects,” I said, taking a drink of wine.

She rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“Umm hmm. Not kidding. Cockroaches are just vile things, slinking around into places they definitely do not belong.”

She laughed at me. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer. “But if you embarrass me in front of him again like you did that morning getting coffee, I will hurt you, Blackstone. And there will be lots of excruciating pain involved.” She looked down below my waist.

I laughed back and only because it was funny and I didn’t doubt her threat for a moment, and the fact that The Cockroach was watching us from across the way. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman…just as long as he keeps his pincers to himself.”

She rolled her eyes at me again and I noticed how blue they looked paired against her dress tonight.

After dinner, I got the pleasure of being introduced to the very female, and very gracious Alex Craven from the Victoria and Albert. I sent up a prayer of thanks to my mum that I never sent Ms. Craven the toxic text from ‘Ethan w/ the big knife’ and figured Mum had to have been looking out for me that day. I never take my luck for granted.

It didn’t take long for Brynne to be whisked away by patrons who wanted a blow by blow of the conserving of Lady Percival. I resigned myself to that eventuality and headed off to get another drink. I sensed eyes on me and turned around to find Strawberry Blonde honing in fast. Shit. I knew this would happen.

“Hello, Ethan. It’s so nice to see you here tonight. I was just asking Ivan about you the other day.”

“Is that so?” I nodded at her, desperately wishing I remembered her name. “Drink…um…?” I looked down, feeling like an asshole and wanting to be anywhere else at this moment.

“Priscilla.”

Well, I got the first letter right. I snapped my fingers and pointed at the ceiling. “Right—Priscilla, can I get you a drink? I’m just about to head back up to the Victorian Gallery.” Please say no.

“Yes! I’d love a Cosmo.” She gushed, her eyes lighting up as she perceived some interest on my part. She gave me a thorough looking over and I found it more than uncomfortable. This was something I’d put up with for years from women. I’d done it for the sex of course. I mean, who will shag you if you don’t at least let them admire and pretend to be flattered by their attentions? But really, I didn’t like it, and it had been nothing more than a game for me. Before Brynne much of what I’d been doing had been games. I’d been a dog.

“And what did Ivan say about me?”

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