Framed by a Forgery

by Fiona Grace

  He tugged the frame, but Lacey didn’t let go. She now, suddenly, didn’t feel like parting with the rare antique.

  “You only bought this so you could beat her?” she asked.

  Lord Fairfax gave another tug. “Yes, she loves literature. Last year I bought her a plot of land on the moors. This year I’ve done one better and got the author’s letter.”

  Lacey narrowed her eyes. “When did Dickens write about the moors?”

  “Oh, you know,” the lord said, waving his hand flippantly. “That whole Heathcliff and Cathy thing. Withering Heights.”

  “Wuthering Heights,” Lacey corrected. It was one of her personal favorite novels. “And it wasn’t written by Dickens. It was written by Emily Bronte!”

  “Really?” Lord Fairfax asked. Then he shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh well. I’m sure she likes this fellow as well, this Charles…” He flicked a hand as he tried to recall. “…Dickson.”

  “Dickens!” Lacey exclaimed.

  She couldn’t believe it. Lord Fairfax had spent nearly three million pounds on the wrong gift for his sister, and he didn’t even realize it was by one of England’s most cherished novelists!

  “Let’s wrap this up, shall we?” Lacey said. She’d had as much of Lord Fairfax as she could stomach.

  “Please,” Lord Fairfax said. “I have a busy day of yachting ahead.”

  She finally surrendered the frame to Lord Fairfax’s possession.

  He briefly glanced down at it, then handed it flippantly over to Hounslow. “Ask Cressida to get this gift wrapped,” he said, turning his heel back to Lacey. “She’ll have to arrange for it to be couriered to her. I think she’s staying at the house in Malibu but I’m not certain.”

  Lacey watched their backs as they headed out of the auction room.

  “Nice doing business with you,” Lacey called after them.

  But it appeared that Lord Fairfax had already forgotten all about her.

  *

  Lacey clicked the lock of the store closed, then turned to face her friends and family. “And that’s a wrap,” she announced.

  Finnbar, Gina, Frank, and Tom all burst into applause.

  “Great job, Lacey!” Gina cried.

  “That was crazy,” Finnbar added. “I’ve never seen an auction like it.”

  “It was certainly peculiar,” Lacey agreed.

  Tom slung his arm around her and pecked her cheek. “You did amazingly.”

  “Thank you,” Lacey said, blushing.

  “We should celebrate,” Frank said.

  “Yes!” Gina cried. “It’s not like we make hundreds of thousands of pounds’ profit every day.”

  Of course Lacey wanted nothing more than to toast the fruits of her labor with her loved ones, but there was one problem. The store was a mess! All the stock she’d cleared away to make room for the auction would need to be put back out again, not to mention Tom’s buffet table and all the detritus left on it. It looked like a pack of ravenous beasts had gotten at the canape selection.

  “Not to be a party-pooper or anything,” Lacey said. “But we need to tidy up first.”

  Gina and Finnbar groaned.

  Frank put his hands on his hips. “Lacey, you just earned a life-changing sum of money and you’re worried about sweeping?”

  “I still have a business to run,” Lacey countered.

  “And it will still be here tomorrow,” her father argued. “Come on, darling. It’s time you let loose. My treat?”

  Lacey hesitated. It didn’t come naturally to her to shirk her responsibilities. But if there was any time to ease back a little, it was now.

  “Fine,” she said, relenting. “Where shall we go?”

  Gina and Finnbar cheered. They looked thrilled at the prospect of an evening off, and some celebratory booze thrown in for free.

  “I’d really like to go to the Lodge,” Frank said. “I’ve heard they sell local ale, and I’d love to try it.”

  “The Lodge it is,” Lacey said, with a grin.

  As Frank, Gina, and Finbarr hurried excitedly to the door, Lacey turned to Tom. He’d been rather quiet during the discussion, and was now stacking plates and leftover canapes into his large container boxes.

  “Are you coming?” she asked him.

  Tom didn’t look up from his task. “I think I’ll skip this one. I’d prefer to get this stuff all tidied away.”

  Lacey frowned. He wasn’t telling the truth. She could tell by the way he was avoiding eye contact. She approached him. “What’s the real reason?” she asked gently.

  “What do you mean?” Tom said, quite clearly trying to play it off.

  But Lacey knew him too well now. She put her hands on her hips. “Come on, Tom. We’re getting married soon. Whatever it is, you can just tell me.”

  Tom let out a weary exhalation and put down the Tupperware he’d been holding. “The truth is, I don’t want to suffer through another uncomfortable encounter with your dad.”

  Lacey’s eyebrows rose. She’d been expecting something like that to be the reason, but actually hearing Tom say it in such harsh words actually hurt her feelings. She felt suddenly very protective of her father, as if she needed to defend him.

  “Okay, so your first meeting was awkward,” Lacey said. “But that was only one time. I’m sure he won’t be as bad now he’s had a chance to get to know you.”

  Tom simply grunted. He turned from her to load some utensils away. Lacey followed so she was back in his eyeline.

  “Tom,” she said, more firmly this time. “I want you to come with me to celebrate. We just pulled off an amazing feat. As a team. You and Dad included. So please come.”

  Tom stopped what he was doing and looked at her square in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Lacey, but no. I just spent the whole of the auction side by side with him, and not once did he attempt to communicate with me. Every question I asked him, he either ignored, or answered sarcastically. I’m sick of being insulted and dismissed by him. I’m sorry, Lacey, but your dad just doesn’t like me, and I’m not prepared to be the only one putting in the work. This is a conversation you need to be having with him, not me.”

  Lacey’s heart pounded in her chest. She had no idea why things had gone so terribly between Frank and Tom, or how to fix it.

  Just then, she heard her father’s voice calling from the door. “Lacey! Come on, we’re all waiting.”

  Tom eyed her. “See,” he said. “He didn’t even call for me. I’m not welcome. So, go. Have fun. Celebrate with your dad. I’ll pack up here.”

  Lacey stared at him, feeling torn. “Tom?” she tried.

  He shook his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Lacey!” Frank called again.

  She turned away from Tom and headed for the exit, following her father’s call.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next morning, Lacey and Frank walked side by side along the beach toward the store. Chester darted across the sand, snapping at the breaking surf.

  After the success of the auction, Lacey felt like she was on cloud nine. Even her hang-over from last night’s celebrations couldn’t bring her down, nor the little disagreement she’d had with Tom. She felt energized. Enthusiastic. Eager for the new day in a way she’d not been for a long time.

  “Lacey,” her father said, “I think I should head home today.”

  “Oh?” Lacey asked. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “The security system is all fixed. And… well, I have a feeling I’m making things difficult between you and Tom.”

  “Not at all,” Lacey replied, reflexively.

  But internally, she was actually glad about the idea of her father leaving. Hosting him over the last few days had been stressful and emotionally draining, and his sudden appearance in her life had been starting to get on her nerves a bit. Saying goodbye felt premature, but she would like to get back on a good footing with her fiancé, and she wasn’t sure how possible that would be while her father was still around.

 
“But I understand,” she added. “I’ll be sorry to say goodbye.”

  “Me too,” Frank said.

  They veered off the beach and onto the high street. It was still very early, with little activity save for a few vendors opening up. Except, right at the end, near her store, Lacey noticed a collection of cars.

  “That had better not be the press,” she said. “I told Gina to stall them.”

  But suddenly, she spotted the blue and yellow insignia of the Wilfordshire police. It was the cops, and there were two of them standing outside her store.

  Panic leapt into Lacey’s chest. Had something terrible happened? A break-in at her store? She quickened her step, feeling anxiety overcome her.

  “What’s going on?” Frank asked.

  “I’ve no idea,” Lacey replied, hurriedly.

  She raced along the street, and as she got closer, she realized the two police officers—one male, one female—were not alone. Parked behind their cruiser was a cream-colored Rolls-Royce, and standing with them were the distinctly recognizable figures of Lord Fairfax and his big, bald valet, Hounslow.

  “Is that Lord Fairfax?” Frank asked with surprise, as he trotted beside Lacey trying to keep up.

  “Yes, it is,” Lacey confirmed.

  The Lord was in an equally flamboyant outfit today as he had been yesterday, a tight-fitting, crimson velvet suit with ruffled sleeves. The hulking valet looked exactly the same—black suit, mean scowl, and huge, bulging muscles.

  Lacey gulped. Whatever was going on, she had a very bad feeling about it.

  She ran the final few paces.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze darting from the cops to the wealthy Lord.

  “What’s going on is that your ruse is up,” Lord Fairfax said.

  Lacey frowned, at a complete loss. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “That letter I bought from you?” Lord Fairfax said. “The Dinkins one. Dunkins.”

  “Dickens!”

  “Whatever. I had it analyzed privately. It’s a forgery. A fake. You, young lady, have committed fraud.”

  Lacey reeled back in shock. It almost felt like she’d taken a physical blow. “What do you mean? I don’t understand. The letter was already authenticated by the Westminster Auction House. What kind of analysis did you do?”

  There had to be a mistake.

  But Lord Fairfax was insistent. “The handwriting, the signatures, everything is perfect. It’s a very good replica. A forgery made by a skilled hand. But it’s the chemical composition of the paper that gives it away.”

  Lacey raised her eyebrows. “You had the paper analyzed?”

  “I wasn’t going to let my sister do it, was I? She’d lord it over me for the rest of our birthdays if she’d been the one to discover the letter was fake. And trust me, she most certainly would have. Your little stunt almost caused me extreme embarrassment. Trauma, even. I wouldn’t be surprised if I suffered PTSD as a result.”

  This was ridiculous. Lord Fairfax was being so melodramatic, Lacey didn’t even know whether anything he was saying was actually true, or whether he’d invented it all just for the drama.

  The male cop stepped forward. “We’ve seen the report,” he said. “It proves the letter wasn’t written in the 1800s. There were chemicals in the paper that weren’t even invented until the 1960s. You sold a forgery, there’s no doubt about it.”

  Lacey was horrified. “But how?” she exclaimed. “The letter was authenticated by the Westminster Auction House! They’re one of the most well revered in the world.”

  “Do you have proof of that?” the cop asked. “That you sold the letter in good faith?”

  “Ronan does,” Lacey said. “Ronan Pike, the letter’s prior owner. He was the one who showed me the certificate.”

  Lord Fairfax crossed his arms. “A likely story!” he bellowed. Then he clicked his fingers at the police. “Will you arrest this woman now?”

  “Arrest me?” Lacey squealed. “What for? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You defrauded me,” the Lord said. “You sold me a fake. That’s illegal.”

  Frank stepped forward, forming a barrier between Lord Fairfax and Lacey as the wealthy man snapped his fingers at the police once more, even more instantly this time.

  “Why aren’t you arresting her?” he wailed. “If you don’t do it, I’ll get Hounslow to make a citizen’s arrest.”

  Lacey shrank back at the thought of the beefy Hounslow getting her in a rear-wrist lock. He’d probably pop her shoulder.

  “Everyone calm down!” Frank cried. “We can prove Lacey sold the letter in good faith.”

  “We can?” Lacey asked.

  “The security system,” Frank told her.

  Lacey frowned. “It doesn’t capture audio.”

  “Not that one,” he said. “The backup.”

  “Backup?” Lacey asked. “What backup?”

  “I hooked one up that morning I came here early,” Frank said, innocently. “It’s just a rudimentary thing.”

  “That captures audio…” she prompted.

  “Yes.”

  “Dad!” Lacey cried. “That’s not okay. Were you spying on me?”

  “No!” Frank exclaimed. “I just wanted to make sure there was something in place for your security before I dismantled the other system. And since the pictures weren’t going to be great on the temporary one, I made sure there was a mic hookup as well. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Lacey cried. “It’s a violation of my privacy! Of my customers’ and employees’ privacy.”

  “Add that to her charges,” Lord Fairfax said, waggling a finger at the police officer.

  Frank looked displeased. “You should be thanking me, Lacey. It’s a good thing I did. Otherwise there’d be no way to prove your innocence.”

  “Let’s take a look at this video then,” the officer said.

  He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. Lacey couldn’t blame him. He’d probably had as much of Lord Fairfax as he could stomach for one day. She knew she couldn’t wait to see the back of the man.

  Everyone piled into the store and headed for the auction room. Frank went over to the security camera and dislodged something from behind the original mounted bracket. It was a small motion-capture camera, the exact type that had earned the nickname “spy cam.” Lacey couldn’t believe it had been up there this whole time, capturing her movements and conversations without her knowing. Yes, she was relieved that there was a way to prove her innocence, but she was also annoyed her father had installed it in the first place.

  Frank pressed some buttons, winding back through the footage, back past the entire auction, and farther still to the day Ronan Pike had first stepped inside Lacey’s auction room. He hit play, and the scene unfolded, clearly showing Ronan’s assurance that the letter was genuine, along with the certification he showed her. Together, both proved Lacey had sold it on in good faith.

  “That’s good enough for me,” the male cop said to his female partner.

  She nodded in agreement. They both looked pretty nonchalant, like this whole debacle had been nothing more than a boring interruption to their day. Their demeanor was at total odds to Lord Fairfax.

  “This is preposterous!” the Lord screeched, his face turning the same crimson color as his suit. “Intent is not the issue here. Outcome is. She committed a crime, whether she meant to or not.”

  The male cop rolled his eyes and looked at Lacey. “Can you just give the man a refund?”

  Lacey stared at him, flabbergasted by his ludicrous suggestion. “No, I can’t. We’re talking about a multimillion-pound sale here. It’s not the sort of purchase you make on a debit card. We’re talking bank managers and meetings, not to mention the huge bank charges involved. If I reverse the sale, I’ll end up losing money on it. Besides, I only have the commission left in my bank account. The rest has been transferred to Ronan.”

  The male cop looked entirely unmoved. “Look, lady. Far as
I can tell you have an unhappy customer asking for a refund on his faulty item. Just do what needs to be done. This is not a police matter.”

  And with a final shrug, the cops marched out of the store.

  Lord Fairfax stared at her, hands on hips, eyebrows raised. “Well?”

  Lacey couldn’t believe it. All the money gone, just like that. And while it was a terrible blow for her, it was even worse for Ronan Pike. The man had been a millionaire for less than twenty-four hours.

  There was no way out of it.

  “Fine,” Lacey muttered. “I’ll go to the bank and make arrangements to reverse the sale.”

  Lord Fairfax nodded triumphantly.

  “But first,” Lacey added, “I want to go and speak to Ronan personally. This is going to be a massive blow to him.”

  Lord Fairfax narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I expect the money back in my account by the end of the day, or I’ll start charging you interest.”

  He marched away, with the dutiful Hounslow following alongside him.

  As soon as they were gone, Lacey sagged. So much for cloud nine. She’d gone from being on the biggest high of her life, to some terrible nightmare.

  She grabbed her car keys and whistled for Chester. “Come on, boy, let’s go and break the bad news.”

  “Want company?” Frank asked.

  “No,” Lacey said, shortly. “What I want is for you to get rid of those damn spy cams.”

  And with that, she turned away from her crestfallen-looking father, and left the store.

  *

  Ronan Pike was staying in Ivan Parry’s recently constructed holiday cottage village on the outskirts of Wilfordshire, and as Lacey drove into the hillsides, she hoped he would still be there. If she only had twenty-four hours to avoid Lord Fairfax’s revenge charges, she didn’t exactly have time to go on a cross-country hunt.

  As she drove through the hills, she reeled from the events of earlier. It felt like such bad luck, and she was annoyed to have gotten suckered into something that she’d known instinctively was too good to be true.