by Dilly Court
‘My friend Wegg is a very good detective,’ Duke said, grinning.
‘He is not your friend, nor mine.’
‘We neither like nor trust each other, do we, Wegg?’ Duke slapped him on the shoulder. ‘But, having agreed that, we decided to work together to achieve our ends. I decided to sup with the Devil – no offence meant, Wegg.’
Wegg winked and nodded. ‘None taken, Duke.’
‘What do you want?’ Nettie spoke calmly, but her heart was beating fast and she was ready for flight. ‘What do you hope to achieve by coming here?’
‘I’ve come for my wife, of course, and I want to see your father.’
Constance hung back, eyeing him warily. ‘I’m not a piece of property, Duke.’
‘I married you, didn’t I?’
‘You tricked me into marriage so that you could get your hands on my house and the gallery.’
‘You married me for financial gain, so don’t pretend that you were in love with me.’
‘I never said I was, and I don’t even like you. I doubt if any woman would love someone as selfish and callous as you.’
Wegg yawned. ‘Can we put an end to this bickering? Tell them why we come here, Duke.’
‘Yes, why are you here?’ Nettie asked suspiciously. ‘You are a criminal, Duke, and Wegg is a coppers’ nark. I can’t see how you two would ever get along.’
‘Forget Wegg; I have business with Robert,’ Duke said casually. ‘I went upstairs and knocked on your door, but there was no answer.’
‘He’s probably gone out looking for commissions, but he wants nothing to do with you, Duke. You’re the cause of all our problems.’
‘Hardly, my dear. Robert, as we know, is hopeless with money and always will be. I suspect that you are living hand to mouth, and unless something changes, you will end up old before your time, caring for a man who thinks only of himself.’
‘I believe there’s a saying for that,’ Nettie said coldly. ‘The pot calling the kettle black, springs to mind. Anyway, why are you back in London? You’re a wanted man.’
‘Marmaduke Dexter fell foul of the law, but Marc Gaillard is a respected businessman. I am here under that alias, and in the process of doing a deal that will make a fortune. I’m offering your father a chance to share my future prosperity.’
‘You are the reason he turned to faking the works of others in the first place. Leave him alone.’
‘You haven’t heard the proposition yet, miss,’ Wegg said, curling his lip. ‘You might change your mind if you stop gabbing and listen, for a change.’
‘Well, Duke, what have you got to say to that?’ Constance sank down on the sofa. ‘What is this brilliant plan of yours?’
‘Yes, speak up or get out and leave us in peace,’ Nettie said wearily. ‘Although I doubt if you have anything to say that is worth hearing.’
The door opened before Duke had a chance to reply and Lisette burst into the room, but her smile faded when she recognised her uninvited guests.
‘What on earth are you doing here, Duke? And what is he doing here?’ she added, glaring at Wegg.
‘You get more beautiful every time I see you, Condesa,’ Duke said smoothly. ‘I was in town on business and I thought I would call in to see you.’
She tossed her head. ‘Don’t lie to me, Duke. You couldn’t have known where we were, and I don’t want either of you in my home.’
‘I’ve come to claim my bride,’ Duke said calmly.
‘Your marriage was a sham.’ Lisette placed a protective arm around Constance’s shoulders. ‘What has changed?’
Duke threw up his hands. ‘Might we all sit down and discuss this like rational human beings?’
Wegg threw himself down on a chair by the window. ‘I second that. Get on with it, boss.’
‘Boss?’ Nettie gazed from one to the other. ‘What’s going on, Duke?’
‘Please sit down, ladies. There’s no need to be anxious. My intentions are strictly honourable. Wegg and I have come to an understanding, and we are now working together.’
‘That’s right,’ Wegg said, grinning. ‘Duke made me an offer that I couldn’t refuse, so we decided to bury the hatchet, so to speak, but not in each other’s heads.’
‘And Wegg now knows that I had nothing to do with the tragedy that befell his dear sister. She was a sweet girl, led astray by a villain, but not me. Wegg and I are now on the same side.’
‘That I find hard to believe, but go ahead. I’m sure we’re all listening.’ Nettie sank onto the sofa and was joined by Lisette and Constance.
Duke took a seat opposite them, resting his hands on his knees. ‘I have decided to abandon my old ways. From now on I intend to become a respectable citizen.’
‘And how will you accomplish that, Duke?’ Lisette met his smile with a challenging lift of her chin. ‘You’ve led this poor child astray, and you must have known that the Botticelli was a fake, but you didn’t tell me, which leads me to wonder how much you made by selling my trinkets. You are a liar and a cheat.’
‘All that is at an end. Perhaps I see myself getting older, a fugitive from the law and lacking the love of a family.’
Nettie almost choked. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘Indeed I am, and that’s why I want to see your father.’
‘Leave my pa alone, Duke. You’ve been a bad influence on him and we’re struggling, but I’d rather starve than see him going down that road again.’
For once Duke was not smiling. ‘I promise you, Nettie, that I have no intention of asking Robert to do anything illegal. I have a business proposition to put to him, but it is completely above board.’
Constance jumped to her feet. ‘Am I another business proposition, Duke? When were you going to get round to me?’
He stood up, taking her hands in his. ‘My dear Constance, I have treated you badly, but all that will change.’
She snatched her hands free. ‘I don’t believe you. There’s something you’re not telling me, Duke. What is it?’
‘I realised that I was jealous of that callow youth for whom you formed an attachment. It led me to lie about the house in Paris – it is yours, Constance. Your father signed the deeds over to you long before he went bankrupt.’
Constance sat down suddenly. ‘The house is mine?’
He nodded. ‘It is and always will be.’
‘You could still take it from me?’ She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Is that a threat you intend to use on me?’
‘No. Never.’ Duke’s serious expression melted into an amused smile. ‘You have a mind as devious as my own. We are made for each other, Constance. I’m asking you to give me a chance to prove myself to you.’
Nettie shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. ‘Perhaps you would like some time alone? This is between you and Constance.’
‘No. Don’t go,’ Constance said hastily.
‘You don’t have to agree to anything he says.’ Lisette patted Constance on the shoulder. ‘Don’t forget Percy. My son loves you, so don’t break his heart.’
Constance rose slowly to her feet. ‘I’m going to my room. I need to be alone.’
Duke moved swiftly to open the door for her. ‘You will think about what I’ve just said?’
‘I might, or I might not.’ She walked into her room without looking at him.
‘Well, boss, that didn’t go too well, did it?’ Wegg snorted with laughter. ‘You need to brush up on your wooing skills.’
‘You can shut your mouth, Wegg. When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.’ Duke turned to Nettie, staring at her with a knotted brow. ‘Will you speak to her for me? I know that Constance sets a lot of store by what you have to say.’
‘It’s nothing to do with me, Duke. I’m the last person you should ask for help.’
‘I know you’re angry with me, Nettie, but I intend to put things right for you and your father. When do you expect him to come home? I need to see him as soon as possible.’
‘Why should I believe
you, Duke? What could you offer my pa that would save his reputation and allow him to prove himself as the great painter he really is?’ Nettie said angrily.
‘That’s right, Nettie.’ Lisette nodded in agreement. ‘You tell him straight, my dear.’
Duke bowed his head. ‘I know I’ve upset many people, Condesa, and I am truly sorry.’
Wegg reached for his top hat and rammed it on his head. ‘I’ve had enough of this, boss. You’re overdoing the penitent sinner, if you ask me. I’m off to spy on the wife of a cuckolded husband. Let me know when you need my services again.’ He jumped to his feet and headed for the door, where he paused. ‘You’d better listen to him, miss. Duke Dexter has the golden touch when it comes to making money – whether it’s on the right or the wrong side of the law. If I was you I’d take a chance. What have you got to lose?’
Chapter Nineteen
Robert listened attentively while Duke outlined his idea for a business collaboration, which, to Nettie’s astonishment, sounded completely legal.
‘Let me get this straight, Duke,’ Robert said slowly. ‘You want me to make copies of paintings by well-known artists to sell in your gallery.’
Duke sat back in the Windsor chair, grimacing. ‘Is this the most comfortable seat you can offer me, Robert?’
‘It’s all we have,’ Nettie said angrily. ‘This isn’t the castle in Spain, Duke. We are living in reduced circumstances, as you very well know.’
‘And my business proposition will put an end to that.’ Duke turned to Robert with a winning smile. ‘Come on, old man. It will be easy – the paintings will simply be copies, with the full knowledge and assent from the original artists. They will, if still living, receive a percentage and you will be well paid.’
Robert was silent for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. ‘But who will buy these copies, Duke? They won’t be cheap.’
‘They will cost far less than the originals, and the numbers will be strictly limited. I’m not insulting your artistic ability by asking you to turn out copy after copy, but I know how skilful you are, Robert.’
‘Clever enough for the Botticelli to pass as an original,’ Robert said, chuckling. ‘It’s a pity it ended up smashed over your head, but you deserved it.’
‘Forget all that, my friend, and think to the future. There is a growing market amongst the well-to-do middle classes who wish to emulate their betters. In the future I dare say there will be a way to reproduce works of art in vast quantities, and attempts have already been made using lithography, but it is not the same as having a genuine oil painting hanging on the parlour wall.’
Nettie had been sitting on the window seat, listening avidly, but now she jumped to her feet. ‘You don’t have to do this, Pa. We can get by without you having to stoop to such depths.’
‘My dear, I think anything is better than starving to death in a cold garret, and there’s a long hard winter ahead.’ Robert gave Duke a speculative look. ‘Are you sure that this is all above board, Duke? I’ve had enough of being a fugitive, and I have to face facts. I can’t even afford to buy paint and canvases unless I have an advance on a commission.’
‘That will not be a problem, Robert. I will see that you have enough funds to buy materials, and an advance to cover your living expenses.’ Duke rose to his feet and crossed the floor to examine the portrait of Jane Norwood. ‘Who is this?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Robert said, sighing. ‘I painted Mrs Norwood in lieu of payment for my board and lodging. We stayed with the family for a while before we returned to London.’
‘Tell him the truth, Pa. We had to work for the Norwoods to pay our way. You painted Mrs Norwood’s portrait while the rest of us worked in the hop garden.’ Nettie faced Duke with a defiant gaze. ‘That’s how poor and desperate we were, and it was largely due to you. If Wegg hadn’t traced us to Spain we might have remained with the condesa until Pa had earned enough money to get us home.’
‘You wouldn’t have received much help from the condesa. She was all but bankrupt, Nettie. I know that for a fact.’ Duke gave her a pitying smile. ‘You’re a plucky young woman, and you deserve better than this.’ He encompassed the attic room with a wave of his hand. ‘Allow your father to earn a decent living from his talent as a copyist.’
‘But he’s a brilliant artist.’
‘We must be realistic, my dear,’ Robert said gently. ‘Duke is right, and we can’t live on the pittance you get for your sewing.’
‘I’ve always said I would willingly work in a shop, or go into service if that would allow you to concentrate on your painting, Pa.’
‘Doesn’t that make you ashamed, Robert?’ Duke walked towards the door. ‘What sort of man relies on his daughter to pander to his vanity in such a way? I’ll leave you to mull it over, but don’t wait too long. I have other artists in mind, and the reopening of my gallery to organise.’ He eyed Nettie speculatively. ‘Maybe you could work for me? A pretty young woman to greet prospective customers might go down extremely well.’
‘The police will arrest you the moment you show your face,’ Nettie said warily. ‘You’re a wanted man.’
‘Not any more, my dear. Marmaduke Dexter died in Spain. Wegg has informed the Metropolitan Police of their suspect’s death by drowning.’
‘Why would they believe a man like Wegg?’
‘Why wouldn’t they?’ Duke countered. ‘He was working for them. They’re not to know that he’s thrown his lot in with me, and I am reborn as Marc Gaillard. I was always careful to do business in London through Pendleton, and my clients never met me face to face.’
‘What would you do if he decided to peach on you?’
‘Pendleton knows better than that, Nettie. He, like Wegg, is well paid for his efforts. I might include you on my staff, if you so wish?’
‘Duke,’ Nettie said icily, ‘I would as soon go down a coal mine as work for you. Constance might have fallen under your spell once more, but not I.’
He shrugged. ‘Oh, well, the offer is there, should you become desperate. As to you, Robert, think very carefully before you put pride before common sense.’ He opened the door and left them staring after him.
Nettie turned to her father. ‘Don’t let him bully you into something you’ll regret, Pa.’
‘I know better than that after my last experience with Duke Dexter, but I think perhaps he has had a sound idea. We have to pay the rent, Nettie, because Ma Burton would relish the prospect of sending her sons to break my fingers one by one, and that would put an end to my artistic career altogether.’ Robert rose from his chair. ‘I’ll catch him up and tell him that I’m more than interested.’ He held up his hand as Nettie opened her mouth to protest. ‘Don’t fret, my dear, I’ll go into the whole thing very carefully, but at the moment it seems like my one and only chance to put things right.’
When her father did not return, Nettie assumed that he must have gone to the gallery. Duke’s idea was probably a good one when it came to profitability, but she knew that her father was worthy of acclaim in his own right. It seemed a waste of his talents to spend his time copying the works of others, but they could not continue as they were. It would be a hard decision to make, but they had to pay the rent and soon it would be winter, with all the hardships brought about by cold and damp. She took out her manuscript and tried to settle down to write, but she could not concentrate. Even though she was so close to finishing the story, a satisfactory ending evaded her, and she tucked it out of sight and went to find Constance. She, too, had a hard decision to make.
She found Constance alone in the parlour, listening to Lisette, who was in her bedroom, singing what seemed to be the entire libretto of the operetta. The glass shades on the gasolier rattled in their brass holders as Lisette’s warbling soprano hit the high notes.
Constance shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can stand much more of this, Nettie. She’s giving me a headache.’
‘At least she knows the words,’ Nettie said, trying not to giggle. ‘
I can see her ousting the famous Cora Leslie as leading lady before long. Violet will be furious and so will Amelie.’
‘From what I’ve seen of those two, it serves them right.’ Constance rose from the sofa and went to peer out of the window. ‘Where is Percy? He’s been gone for ages.’
‘I think he went to the law offices with Byron. He’s just getting to know his brother,’ Nettie said reasonably. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’
‘Percy has changed since we left Spain.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s not so attentive, and today he went off without a word, leaving me at the mercy of his mother. I daren’t say anything in front of her or she’ll get angry. He can do no wrong in her eyes.’
‘I suppose that’s natural, although it’s a bit unfair on Byron. He’s the one she should be making a fuss of, considering the fact that she abandoned him when he was so young.’
‘Duke hasn’t returned either. I simply don’t understand men, Nettie. They make a fuss of you, and then they go away and leave you to cope on your own.’
‘Perhaps you ought to find something to do,’ Nettie suggested tentatively. ‘How did you occupy your time in Paris?’
‘I used to go for walks with Mademoiselle Menjou. Sometimes we went to art galleries or one of the parks, but what I liked most was going to the shops in the boulevard Haussmann, although I didn’t have much money to spend on myself.’
Nettie eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure you want to marry Percy? I know he’s handsome and charming, but he’s poor and you’ve been used to living in what most of us think of as luxury.’
‘I love Percy.’
‘I’m sure you do.’ Nettie chose her words carefully. ‘But you married Duke, and he seems to have evaded the law. If you were to live as his wife you wouldn’t want for anything.’
Constance’s blue eyes darkened and filled with tears. ‘But I don’t love him.’
‘Maybe you ought to talk to Percy. Tell him how you feel.’
‘Yes, that’s right. I’ll do that.’ Constance brushed away a tear and smiled. ‘I still have my house in Paris. Perhaps Percy could find work and we could live there together.’