“Stay here,” he commanded the four remaining artists. “There’s somebody I need to speak to.”
Matt was waiting in the Phantom, the engine already running.
Edward opened the rear door and slid in, barking out his orders. The car sped through the streets and was at its destination in a flash. Jumping out, Edward dashed through the door of the building in front of him.
It was quiet inside, a handful of people milling around in the dusty stillness. Edward ignored their sideward glances and headed straight through the gallery space and into the corridor beyond. Valeria’s office door stood open and he could see two women inside. He didn’t wait for an invitation. Storming in, he slammed the door shut behind him.
“What’s going on?” he demanded in a voice so fierce that it seemed to shake the walls of the little room. Alison shrank back, flustered. Valeria simply waved her hand at him as if he was a pesky fly, dismissing his anger.
“Edward, sit,” she said, pointing to the chair in front of her desk. He ignored her command, planting his hands on the desk.
“No, Valeria. I want to know what’s going on.”
Valeria looked unperturbed by his insistence, so he turned to Alison.
“Well?”
She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
“I… I…” Her face crumpled, her whole body seemed to sag with resignation. “I’m so sorry, Edward. It was the money. How could I turn down that much money?”
Valeria sat up in her seat and almost doubled in size, her small stature belied by her posture.
“Alison, I suggest you stop talking now,” she said, her voice so cold it chilled Edward to the core.
He pushed himself up and walked to Alison, his back now to Valeria.
“Money, what money?”
He kept his voice soft and his arms by his side, though all he really wanted to do was shake the answers right out of Alison.
“I’m a mom,” she sobbed. “Art doesn’t pay well unless you’re well known or doing something so out there it markets itself. I have a family to feed—”
“Alison,” he interrupted. “I don’t want to know why you’ve done it, I just want to know what you’ve done, and who made you do it.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
“After the party,” she said. “It all started then, when we found out we were finalists—just a week ago.”
Edward nodded, encouraging her to speak. He could hear Valeria breathing loudly behind him, her anger seeming to pulse into the room.
“The day afterward, the Saturday, I was out walking in the park opposite the house and I was approached by—”
“I demand that you stop talking.” Valeria was out of her seat and in between Edward and Alison in a split second.
“No, let her finish.” The new voice spoke from the doorway, and all three heads turned.
“Everly? How did you find me?” Edward said, his heart hammering so loudly he thought maybe she’d just followed the sound of it across the city.
“Never mind that,” Everly said, walking into the room and crossing her arms. She seemed stronger than before, a force of nature. “I want to hear what’s going on.”
Alison looked between Everly and Edward and Valeria, her face so blotchy and red she could have been the victim of some terrible tropical disease.
“I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled.
“If you speak now, you will pay back every cent of that money.” Valeria’s tone was not to be messed with.
Alison took a deep breath, shaking her head.
“You know what? I don’t care,” she said. “I’ve come to know these two, and they are kind, loving people. I don’t want your filthy money anymore.”
She turned to Edward and Everly, her whole body trembling.
“I’m so sorry. Valeria found me that day, she offered me a sum of money I could never dream of earning with my art. She said all I had to do was spook you, distract you.” She nodded at Everly. “And keep the two of you apart, any way I could.”
Her face heated even more.
“I heard you—that night in your room, Everly—and so I did the only thing I could to stop you from kissing. I threw your picture from the wall. I even gave Valeria that sketch you threw in the garbage and told her it was Jennifer’s. And I took those photos. I was in the kitchen and heard you come back to the house. So I dashed outside, and the idea came to me to get some evidence to show Valeria how close you were, that maybe she would stop trying to keep you apart when she saw how fond of each other you had become. But she used them for other purposes. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not a nasty person, I’m not normally so cruel and vindictive and… and greedy. I am truly sorry.”
Edward didn’t respond to Alison. Spinning on his heels, he saw Valeria in a new light.
“Do you not think I have been hurt enough?” he asked. “Why can’t you and my parents just leave me be?”
Valeria’s face was twisted in anger, her thin lips pursed.
“You fool,” she said. “You stupid man. Can’t you see what damage you’re doing to your reputation, hooking up with this girl? What damage you’re doing to your family’s reputation? I tried to warn your family before, when you decided to marry someone so beneath you—Lucy, or Lacey, or whatever her name was. Your father paid heed, but your mother, well, she wasn’t so easy to convince. There are so many wonderful women of good breeding and good standing who would be willing to give you their hand in marriage, yet twice now you have picked the wrong one.”
She sneered at Everly.
“Look at her. Poor, and American. I won’t have another scandal like King Edward VIII and his American girl. I’ve been your family’s advisor since before you were born. They welcomed me into their arms. Why would they not listen to me this time?”
She turned back to Edward.
“I saw the way you two looked at each other, I thought maybe you’d met before, and started a relationship in secret. It isn’t possible for two people to fall in love so quickly, I thought. Yet it was the first time you’d laid eyes on each other. That night I told your parents that they needed to watch out for you. And I was right. Never before have I seen such closeness so quickly, such affection. I knew you wouldn’t be able to help falling head over heels. She’s a pretty girl, I’ll give you that. But your family, and your title, deserves so much better.”
“Wait, what?” Edward spluttered, his head spinning. “What do you mean my family deserves so much better? They want me to be happy. I’m sure they want me to be happy. What makes you think you have the right to advise them about my life?”
“I was always there for your mother and father, they have always trusted my opinion. They’ve never had any reason to doubt me and my word.”
Her smile twisted into something so cruel Edward had to look away. All these years his family had listened to the ramblings of a crazy woman because they thought she was doing them a favor. But all she really wanted was the power her role as advisor gave her, and the influence that her connection to the royals provided. Edward’s stomach churned. Was this why his father had been so strict with him all these years, why his mother hadn’t been able to argue for Edward, and why they had denied him happiness time after time?
All because they thought that Valeria was some sort of royal guru.
“You’re so cruel, Valeria,” he said, turning back to her. “I thought you were my friend. I thought you really cared about me and my family, but you’re thinking of no-one but yourself.”
She snorted in disgust.
“I’ll have you know—” she started, but Edward drew himself up to his full height.
“I’ll have you know, Valeria Baudelaire,” he boomed. “That I am Edward Harrington, Duke of Caudwell, a blood relative of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, and in line for the throne of these sceptered isles. You will speak to me with the respect and deference that I deserve. Am I clear?”
Valeria’s mouth f
ell open in shock, and she nodded like a mouse before a cat. Edward took a deep breath, trying to calm the thunder in his heart as he turned back to Alison.
“I’m sorry you got caught up in the crossfire between this vindictive old woman and me. I’m sorry that she found the chink in your armor that allowed her to manipulate you. You don’t deserve that.”
Alison threw her arms around Edward and thanked him until her words were choked with tears.
Everly looked over at him and smiled, and it set his heart on fire. He knew in that moment that everything would be okay. He had Everly, he had his health, and he would finally have his family too.
But he had one last trump card to play, and the excitement in his stomach was almost too much to bear. He struggled to unwrap Alison’s arms from around his neck, laughing at her strength.
“Sorry, Alison, we’ll have a proper chat back in the studio,” he said as he drew himself out of her clutch.
Turning to Valeria he smiled softly.
“Valeria, dear, I would like to give you this formal withdrawal of artistic license. From this very second you will no longer be allowed to display works of art by Anderley.”
Valeria scoffed, some of her color returning.
“He’s my most displayed artist, he brings in the most clientele. Without him, I’d be ruined. I know you know that. I also know you have no right to dictate who or what I display. This is my gallery and I make those decisions.”
She looked at Edward as if he was a smudge of dirt on one of the paintings in her gallery.
“You may very well dictate who and what you display,” Edward said. “But those pieces of work belong to me and I am telling you, you will never again be given the opportunity to display them.”
“Who are you to speak for Anderley?” she asked.
Edward’s smile grew even larger. He grabbed Everly’s hand. It was warm and comforting, and he drew strength from her touch to say his final piece.
“I am Anderley.”
A gasp echoed around the room. Everly’s face was a picture, she was beaming from ear to ear. Her hand tightened around his own and he heard her squeal in excitement. Valeria’s face had turned so pale he could almost see her skull. Her mouth dropped open, her yellow teeth showing behind her grey lips.
“I think it’s time for us to leave now,” Edward said, ushering the two women out in front of him. “You have an hour to remove all of my paintings, or I will send my solicitors after you.”
And with those final words, and with Everly by his side, he left the Mason—and Valeria Baudelaire—for good.
27
From five, down to three.
They stood in the gallery space where it had all started. There was no audience, no party being held in the Mason. In fact, the Mason had been closed—the talk whispered down the grapevine was that the owner had fled the city because of some terrible scandal.
Just three people left—Everly, Rory, and James—waiting for confirmation of who would be the final winner. Alison had withdrawn her entry, despite Edward pleading with her not to.
The chancellor of the university, along with Edward, had decided on the winner, and they stood together in the gallery with a big bunch of flowers and a certificate for all three of the finalists.
It seemed ridiculous to Everly, really. All of this pomp and circumstance for such a tiny group of people. But Edward had wanted to let them celebrate in style, so she’d given in graciously. It wasn’t as if she was going to win, after all. They’d tried to rescue Everly’s painting, but by the time the coffee had dried it wasn’t even clear what it had been in the first place.
Everly didn’t mind. The only prize she truly wanted was standing right next to her, and she had already won it.
She looked over at Edward and gave him a grin. She still couldn’t believe that this perfect man was even more amazing than she’d previously thought. To think, he was a painter too, and not just any painter but the magnificent Anderley. He tried to remain composed, but blew her a kiss back when the chancellor wasn’t looking. His smile said it all. Maybe it wasn’t such a surprise. After all, goodness and kindness and beauty poured off him in waves—the same sense of wonder and life and freedom that existed in all of his paintings.
“Welcome back, one and all,” the chancellor began in a voice that seemed to suggest he was talking to a large crowd and not just four other people. “Firstly, I’d like to commend all of the artists who were shortlisted.”
Edward coughed discretely.
“Right, well nearly all of the finalists. One wasn’t quite the artist she made herself out to be. But I hear she’s decided to retrain as a teacher, am I correct?”
Edward nodded.
“Yes, Jennifer has told her parents where to stick their job, and resigned from their company. I think she said she’s filling out her application for teacher training this week. I do wish her all the best. I, of all people, understand how difficult it can be to break free of a strong and wilful family.”
Everly looked at Edward. She knew he hadn’t yet had the chance to make amends with his family, to inform them of Valeria and her wicked ways. He still needed to tell them about Everly, too. Butterflies flapped their wings violently in her stomach at the mere thought.
“So,” the chancellor continued. “We have a winner to crown.”
Edward nudged him.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” the chancellor said. “First, I have an announcement to make. Another announcement. Uh… Where was I?”
Everly tried to stifle a laugh. She didn’t want to seem mean, but the chancellor was struggling with his speech this evening. It was a good job he wasn’t in front of lots of people.
“As you are also aware,” the old man went on. “One of you had the bad luck to be the victim of a very unfortunate accident. As judges, we decided to allow the aggrieved party to submit another piece of artwork in substitution for the ruined piece.”
Everly’s face screwed up in confusion as Edward brought out her picture. It was the portrait of him that she had secretly been painting in her room. She put a hand to her mouth, shocked that he had found it.
“Jennifer gave us the heads up,” he said. “Apparently she’d been using your bathroom and had seen it. I hope you don’t mind?”
Everly shook her head, then grimaced.
“Why was she using my bathroom?”
Edward laughed and shrugged.
“Apparently the bath was a nicer shape than hers.”
They all laughed at how much of a ‘Jennifer’ comment that was.
“Okay…” Everly said, suddenly feeling a bit hot under the collar at the fact everyone was staring at her portrait of Edward’s face.
“A rather remarkable piece of art,” the chancellor said. “They all are. I have to commend each and every one of you. But without further ado… unless I’ve forgotten something else, Edward?”
Edward shook his head, biting his lip to stop himself laughing.
“I would like to announce the winner of this year’s competition as… Rory Cooper. Well done, my boy.”
He walked forward and shook Rory’s hand. Rory was, for once, speechless, his mouth frozen open in astonishment. Everly rushed over to him and hugged him, and soon they were all crowded around giving their congratulations.
“Wonderful piece, Mr Cooper,” the chancellor went on. “Of course, we need to discuss where it will be exhibited, given the problems with the Mason. However, there are a multitude of galleries who are currently vying for your sculpture. We will have no issues there.”
The chancellor shook Rory’s sweaty hand, then turned to Everly.
“Miss Simpson, may I have a moment of your time, please?”
Everly looked at the chancellor and nodded, hoping that she wasn’t going to get a telling off for painting in the house, or for working outside of hours. He walked over to the far end of the gallery and Everly trotted behind him, her legs working hard to keep up with his giant strides.
“
Is everything okay?” she asked him, her voice wavering slightly.
“Yes, my dear. Nothing to worry about. But I have an unusual request for you.”
“Right?”
“Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, has seen both your self-portrait and the portrait of her great grandnephew, and she has extended an invitation for you to come and speak to her at the Palace.”
Everly snorted so hard she thought she might choke.
“Very funny,” she said, almost patting the chancellor on the back to join in with his jesting.
“No joke, Everly. She was impressed with your work.”
“But why does she want to see me?” Everly blurted out, now feeling immensely concerned that she had no idea how to meet the Queen without making a complete fool of herself.
“I guess you’ll find that out when you meet her.”
The chancellor left her to think over his words as he rejoined the others to congratulate Rory some more.
An unfamiliar buzz of excitement and nerves filled Everly. She looked over at the small group of people she was lucky enough to now call friends. She was over the moon for Rory, he deserved the win. James had told them all that morning that he was going traveling around the world if he didn’t win the funded post-graduate place, and he would have an amazing career to return to.
She saw that Alison had crept into the room after the ceremony, if it could be called that, and was busily shaking hands with Rory and Edward.
Edward.
Everly’s excited buzz grew deeper with the sight of her dear, beloved Edward. He looked over and caught her eye, a wide smile brightening his beautiful face. He left the group and walked to her.
Taking her hands in his, he studied her with those irresistible chocolate brown eyes, making her feel like a work of art he couldn’t quite believe he’d found.
“My love,” he said. “I trust the chancellor has told you about your royal meeting?”
Everly nodded vigorously, and Edward laughed.
“No need to be nervous, I shall be with you every step of the way. And Lizzie is lovely.”
My Dashing Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 4) Page 16