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He wasn’t in a very charitable mood at present.
He’d found absolutely nothing of interest last evening in Sir Charles’s desk drawers, or his warehouses. And Le Triton’s servants were proving remarkably un-bribable.
“What brings you to the Louvre, my lady?” asked Beauchamp, in an insinuating tone of voice that clearly implied that she was here to see him.
“I wanted to show His Grace the new gallery. I’ve been reading to him from your excellent catalogue. It’s quite an accomplishment. Over seven thousand new pieces.”
“Over four thousand from your Mr. Pepper’s collection alone. The British Museum turned him down, I hear. Said his collection was too expensive. King Charles was happy to pay the ten thousand pounds he asked.”
“It was our loss,” said Indy.
“You had to purchase something to replace all the pieces plundered by that marauding despot and then returned to their rightful owners,” said Raven, though he was supposed to keep quiet.
Beauchamp raised his eyebrows. “And what of your Lord Elgin’s marbles? Clearly they belong back in the Parthenon.”
“Agreed,” said Indy, darting a questioning glance in Raven’s direction. “Will you be hunting for the missing pieces of the Rosetta Stone when you return to Egypt this year?”
“What would I want with the dessert when the main course is in the British Museum?” asked Beauchamp.
“My mistake,” said Indy. Clever how she’d turned the conversation to the stone. “It would be marvelous if the stone could be made whole.”
“Marvelous,” agreed Beauchamp, though he didn’t sound enthusiastic about it. “I hope you’ll allow me to give you a personal tour? I want to show you around my new collection.”
Indy placed her hand on Beauchamp’s arm. “I’d be delighted.”
Overly whiskered, pompous windbag.Raven stewed as the man waxed eloquent about this sarcophagus and that collection of weaponry.
Beauchamp was probably considered to be a handsome man. He was nearly as tall as Raven, with dark hair and dark eyes. He wasn’t of Indy’s social status, but he was a brilliant linguist.
She seemed quite happy leaning on his arm.
He’d instructed her to flirt with Beauchamp, but did she have to hang on his every utterance? It was twisting his gut into knots. She never had told him whether she’d accepted Beauchamp’s offer, or not.
Beauchamp touched her arm and Raven saw red.
Indy laughed at something Beauchamp said and Raven nearly crashed his fist into a display case of ancient golden tableware.
Enough. He sidled closer to Indy. “Have you heard the news?” he asked Beauchamp. “We’ve set a date for our wedding. We will be married on a Sunday.”
The astonishment on Beauchamp’s face was nearly enough to counter the displeasure on Indy’s fair visage.
He was cocking everything up. He was supposed to keep quiet and slip away unobtrusively. But he couldn’t just stand there and let Beauchamp slobber all over her.
Indy glared at him. “Sometimes one does wish for a little moreprivacy.” She deliberately took Beauchamp’s arm again and they walked away, leaving Raven trailing behind like a bloody attendant.
Now Raven was wishing he’d used his usual methods to make Beauchamp talk. He could have cornered him on his way home. Placed a hood over his face so he couldn’t identify Raven. He would have asked him questions about Le Triton’s involvement with the Louvre, and given Beauchamp gentle... nudges... if he didn’t answer.
It would have been so much easier, and far more satisfying.
He must stop being so possessive of Indy and make his getaway to search the premises, though he was nearly positive the stone was with Le Triton. He was about to leave when a guard approached and whispered something in Beauchamp’s ear.
A look of consternation crossed his face. “I’m afraid I must leave you, my lady. Please do enjoy the exhibit.” He hurried away with the guard.
Indy rounded on Raven, her eyes flashing. “I can answer my own questions, thank you very much. And what was all that about? Did you have to be so rude to him? You were like a dog marking your territory.”
“He was the dog. He was practically slobbering on you.”
“He was being a gracious host. It’s a good thing you’re not truly my fiancé—I would never tolerate being overly protected in such an odious manner. Now you’ve lost your chance to search.”
