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“Reid, you shouldn’t be getting off on someone else’s misfortune,” I scolded. Reid didn’t even have the grace to appear ashamed.
“We were at Oxford with the new Lord Montague, Antony Montague; he needs some quick money. He’s got trunks filled with old paperwork and letters and shit. Man’s offered us the lot for a fair sum.”
Ah-ha, I narrowed my eyes.
“How much do you call a reasonable amount?”
Reid named a figure that made me flinch.
“Are you for real? What’s in those chests may be worth nothing,” I snapped as Reid grinned.
“Montague’s selling Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Mark Twain, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Faulkner’s Sound and Fury and finally Tolstoy’s War and Peace, all first editions. And all included in that, Monty’s offering some other works.”
“And all Lord Montague wants is that sum?” I shook my head. “They’re worth more, and you know it, Reid.”
“Montague said he needs cash now, doesn’t have time to go to auction. He wanted a lower price; I named that figure as it was fairer, but still way under what we’d get for those books. As a balm, I offered him ten per cent of the sales. I’m not going to screw a friend over Sin.”
“Far happier with that. Reid, I don’t wish to take advantage of an acquaintance.” I sighed.
“It’s because we’re friends that Montague came to me. Sin, I gave Montague a better deal than most would have. Monty will be okay. There’s cash in the family, but it’s tied up. He’ll be able to free the money eventually, but time’s what Monty doesn’t have to save his estate. And there are death taxes to pay. Montague says they are crippling. Montagues got several copies of those books. Old Lord Montague was an avid collector, so he’s not damaging the collection. Monty just needs readies for now.”
“Okay, make sure they’re in good condition. You know damage will screw the price. I’m guessing you’re flying out soon.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll get everything packed up and settled. Monty has offered the option to pick which of the copies he has. I’ll recommend that if Montague has over two spares, he gets the rest to auction and sets a base rate.”
I nodded slowly. Reid had been flying across the country for sales the past couple of months. I didn’t enjoy being alone, but this was an opportunity Reid couldn’t afford to miss.
“Okay, we’ll be fine; I’ll be peachy,” I replied, biting back sudden fear.
“I know you will. Jett is going to spend tomorrow with you. He’ll take you home after work and stay with you until bedtime.”
Wow, my mouth dropped open, and my mood changed from mellow to completely pissed off.
“Tell me, you’re joking,” I snarled.
Reid shook his head. My fledgling confidence took a hit. Reid obviously felt I needed watching over like a baby. Did Reid really perceive me as that weak?
“No, I don’t think you are weak; you just hate being alone, Sin. Hell, I’m aware that you loathe walking into the house alone. And Jett will be fine with searching the house. Possibly checking you out, too.” Reid winked, and I wanted to throttle him.
“Stop reading my mind! I have lived by myself since I returned from Oxford,” I sniped.
“Yes, I know, Sin, but you hate it. Tell me I’m wrong. You’ve never liked it. Plus, there’re a couple of other auctions I need to check out. We’ve invites to several private sales, and there’re three more in Scotland. I want to wrangle an invitation to them too,” Reid said.
“Don’t spend the budget,” I warned Reid, worried.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve a silent auction when I return for some of the material in the Vault. That will turn a big profit and put pennies into the pot. Did you notice the bidding war getting ready to start on the Lady Downing papers?”
I shook my head.
Lady Downing had been a notorious Elizabethan noble who, after being widowed, became a popular courtesan at court. She’d had numerous high-powered lovers, and last year my father had stumbled across a box full of love letters from and to her. Dad had the writing verified against known writings left in museums. Once they’d been determined genuine, Dad sat on them. I wasn’t sure why, but Reid and I had discovered the racy correspondence. These were risqué and detailed and showed several of the Tudor Queen’s high-ranking courtiers in a different light. I’d blushed many times reading them.
Reid and I had valued them and got a second valuation. The two figures had matched bar a few hundred dollars. Reid had placed the letters on the new auction site, and we’d had considerable enquiries. Unsure whether to price them per lover, letter or as a whole, we still had a decision to make. Considering Lady Downing had messages from thirteen lovers, I was happy to sell per lover.
“No,” I said finally as Reid lifted an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“Lot of interest, a few private collectors and a couple of museums. We’ve had a few offers, substantial ones for the Marshall and Perry letters. Need to sell them per lover. We’ll make more money as we’re selling a complete set. I’ve already changed the page to that, so it’s good to go on Friday. And I’ve put a reserve price on them. Sin, I calculated what they’d fetch individually, added it up, and made that the reserve price.”
“Indeed,” I said happily. I was glad Reid had the same mindset as me.
