“You don’t know how to shoot without your right arm,” Wesley said.
Geoffrey gave him an unimpressed look, then turned back to Sebastian. “Does your family collect antiques?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said, which was quite true, albeit omitting the detail that most of them were enchanted. “But my favorites are the art, not the weapons.”
“Did you hear that?” Nora said, addressing Lady Ryland on her left. “A man at my uncle’s table who doesn’t like fox hunts and admits he likes art? Be still my heart.”
Geoffrey glanced between Sebastian and Lady Nora, a frown forming.
“My dear, you must show Don Sebastian the Greeks.” Lady Ryland gestured down the table, where Lord Thornton and his wife were speaking with Valemount. “I don’t believe Lady Thornton has ever seen the gallery. If you offer a tour, I’m sure she’ll join, and perhaps some of the others as well.”
A tour of the art and possibly antiques owned by aduke descended from a paranormal? That sounded quite useful. But before Wesley could comment, Sir Reginald said, “I’m looking forward to cards. Fine, are you any good at poker? His Grace has promised me a redeeming round after the tables at the Beckley Hunt didn’t go my way. We’ll grab all the fellows for it—Collins, you’re in too, aren’t you?”
“Not tonight,” Geoffrey said. “I’ll join the art tour.”
Wesley side-eyed him. “Really?”
“I like art,” Geoffrey said testily.
“Since when?” said Wesley.
“Since tonight,” Geoffrey said, through clenched teeth.
“That’s settled, then,” Nora said, looking pleased. “The gamblers can have their fun after dinner, and we’ll have our tour.”
* * *
The rain picked up strength during dinner, a steady drumbeat against the windows behind their thick red drapes. The table finished their dessert course, and then Wesley disappeared with Valemount and several other men down a hall into another wing.
Sebastian instead joined Geoffrey to follow Nora, who had gathered Lady Ryland, the Marchioness of Thornton, and some of the other hunters’ wives. Nora led their group up the curving main stairs to the second floor, heading in the opposite direction of the guest wing and finally opening an ornate door to another room with a gilded ceiling done in crimson and gold like the dining room. It was long, like a large hall, with double doors open at the far end, and the walls were hung with paintings on both sides.
Geoffrey stepped to the side to study the contents ofa glass case while the other women spread out through the gallery with appreciative murmurs. Nora, however, stayed with Sebastian. He couldn’t be sure, but she seemed to have thawed slightly toward him. He wanted to ask Nora for more information about Dr. Wright, her companion from the ship, but held his tongue. They’d have three days here; if he wanted her to be honest with him, he needed to deserve her trust.
There was, of course, the chance that Nora herself was part of the plot to destroy magic that had entangled Langford and Alasdair. But the more time Sebastian spent in her company, the more he dismissed that idea. He found himself liking her, obviously not the way he liked Wesley, but the way he liked Jade, or Gwen, or his cousin Isabel.
“This collection was commissioned by my great-grandmother,” Nora said, in a quieter voice, as they approached the first painting. “And while I’m sure my uncle would prefer to show you the sword our great-grandfather was gifted by the king—”
“Is that this sword?” Geoffrey said, a bit too loud, as he pointed at the glass case.
“Yes.But,” Nora said, stressing the word, “Uncle Louis isn’t here, so Don Sebastian is going to visit with the Greeks.” She gestured at the first painting, of a powerfully built man in war dress. “Though unsurprisingly, this one is my uncle’s favorite.”
Sebastian took in the details, from the spear and shield to the headdress. “Is this Ares? Such a detailed interpretation. If you look behind him, you can even see the temple on the hill.”
Nora tilted her head. “So you are indeed an art fan?”
“My cousin Isabel is a painter.” Sebastian wouldskip the detail about her ability to create paranormal paintings that could stop magic. “She insisted I learn to appreciate the work that goes into creating beautiful things.”
“How sweet,” Nora said, sounding sincere. They stood quietly for a moment, looking at the painting.
“This sword’s very nice too,” Geoffrey called.
Sebastian heard Nora’s tiny sigh.
They moved to the next painting, of an enormous muscular man locked in combat with a giant lion. “And here we have, unsurprisingly, my uncle’s second favorite,” Nora said.
“Hercules?” Sebastian asked, pointing.
“Yes.” Nora cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if this is a forward question but—is that a tattoo?”
