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Leaving the establishment, he waited until the carriage came around and boarded it, intending to head off to his home in Mayfair, but his driver handed him a letter on a silver platter.
“Lord Gladhame left this for you, Your Grace,” he said.
“Thank you, Smith,” Gabriel replied while taking the letter and entering the vehicle.
Unfolding the letter, he found it was more of a note than a letter. “Williams, after your refreshing sojourn, come to…”Uttering an aggravated groan, Gabriel decided that if David was summoning him for another evening of shopping, he would be marching out and avoiding the Earl for a month. “…Leigh and Sotheby.”
That was curious—What on earth was David doing at an auction house?
Intrigued, Gabriel redirected his driver and sagged into the seat, wondering if he had time to cater to the man’s whimsies. He had already had his fun, and now it was time to rejoin the outer world and go back to work, including the dratted balls, making appearances, and ‘courting’ Miss Porter. He needed time to think, and David was cutting that time short.
When he arrived at the auction house, a footman led him inside to the private auction, and he spotted David sitting to the side, his left leg bouncing. After handing off his coat and hat to another footman, Gabriel took a seat near him, “I have half an hour before I will exit. Why am I here?”
“I’m buying a collection of tragedies from the bard,” David announced anxiously, “and I thought you might like a distraction before you restart work.”
Gabriel quirked a brow, “But youdetestShakespeare and all his works. I remember you calling him a fanciful dreamer who only catered to the sighs of wishful maids and old biddies.”
“A man can change,” David replied stonily.
“Certainly, but not you,” Gabriel replied, eyes narrowing. “Now tell me, is this for your private enjoyment or is for someone?”
“It’s a gift.”
“To whom?”
“A young lady,” David replied.
“And you are buying a set oftragedies? My good man, shall I call Bedlam for you? You buy comedies and poems, not a recount of the horrible life of Hamlet or King Lear!” Gabriel hissed. “Have I taught you nothing? Besides that, you know the rules!”
“Rule seven,” David parroted. “Never buy the lady gifts. I know, but I am making an exception his time.” Although he didn’t budge on deciding to get the book, color washed over David’s cheekbones. He muttered, “She is not the usual lady, Williams.”
Scoffing, Gabriel turned to the moderator. “I have yet to find a lady who does not like flowery words and romantic overtones.”
“Does your lady want those?” David asked pointedly. “I suppose Miss Porter is clamoring for sonatas at midnight then.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Gabriel replied, one shoulder lifting and falling. “She’s made no demands.”
“Probably because she knows not to expect anything from this façade,” David replied.
Footmen came around with glasses of wine, water, and brandy for the men, and Gabriel took wine.
The auctioneer called the room to order with books, medical journals, old history book, repossessed tomes from Napoleon Bonaparte’s collection, and frail Greek scrolls. When Shakespeare’s collections came around, David stuck to his word and bid on the collection of tragedies while Gabriel changed his mind and decided to stay and acquire something to help his ignorant friend.
Two paintings came along, a miniature in gold frame that depicted a garden in bloom and a painting of Apollo playing the lyre for Daphne, his famous love.
A nymph who was vowed to Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and chastity, so she would remain eternally innocent, and she fled form Apollo. I wonder if Anastasia is going to run from me as well.
The bid started at a hundred pounds, and Gabriel sipped, waiting for the men to slow bidding, and at a prominent pause, he put in his fifteen-hundred-pound bid, twice that of the last seven-hundred and fifty bid, and the room went silent.
The moderator cleared his throat. “Article thirty-five is awarded to His Grace.”
More pieces were sold, and at the end, Gabriel handed the small painting to David, who balked. “Trust me,” Gabriel assured him, “It’s a fail-safe for your horrid plan to gift the lady a set of tragedies.”
“There is another facet to my plan,” David replied, “and the second takes us up to Ludgate.”
“Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell, I assume,” Gabriel said dryly. “Why do I indulge you?”
“Just come with me,” David huffed.
