It was only a string of coincidences that had connected the pair of them and brought them here, standing side by side. Fiona was only the daughter of a baron, and while she knew a great deal about paintings, she was still learning. She had received more praise than she deserved for identifying the counterfeits and discovering the letter; people like her never received royal commendations.
Giles ought to have known all of this without her having to explain it, but she explained it to him anyway. Not even Lister, the chief inspector at the academy, had ever entered this room. To let someone like Fiona see a confidential private collection like this was unprecedented.
Of course I’d love to see this collection again…but I don’t even deserve to wish for that.
She and Giles were neither friends nor family. They were temporary partners in a charade. Fiona understood the distinction well. Therefore, she took care to burn every painting in this room into her memory.
Pasting on a smile, she said, “But of course, if some day you hired me to create an inventory or to appraise the collection, I would be honor—”
“Fiona,” Giles snapped, his expression swiftly changing. Fiona’s heart jumped into her throat. “I’m not terminating the contract.” She blinked rapidly, unable to follow the sudden change in topic, and his voice dropped into a terrifying iciness. “We’re staying in this relationship until the season is over. There will be no midterm cancellation.”
Oh dear. Did he somehow notice that I was considering canceling our contract? Fiona hadn’t thought she’d let that show on her face, but Giles was quite perceptive. He could probably see right through Fiona’s facade to her true feelings.
Before Fiona could get another word in, Giles placed a firm hand over hers, tightening her grip on his arm. “We’re keeping up the act. End of discussion.”
“Lord Giles…” Fiona’s breath caught in her throat. She felt as though there were a fist clenching her heart, but it had to be the corset, not Giles’s penetrating gaze. She forced her tense face into a nonchalant smile. “Of course. That was the deal.”
Giles finally released his breath. “Let’s get you home.”
“Thank you.”
Fiona chanced a single glance back before they left the room. Then, under Giles’s irritatingly proper escort, Fiona left the Bancroft mansion behind her.
“Sister!”
“Cecelia, how’ve you— Eek!”
Cecelia must have been on tenterhooks the whole day, waiting for her sister’s return. Fiona had barely descended from the carriage before she was in Cecelia’s tight embrace.
“Welcome home! You and that dress both look so lovely!”
“Th-thanks,” Fiona said. “Your complexion looks really nice. I hope you haven’t caught a cold?”
“I’m just fine! Though at first, I…did miss you a little.”
“Cecelia…”
While the sisters rejoiced in their reunion, still embracing tightly, the Bancroft family driver and Hans, the Clayburn butler, set about unloading the carriage. That was when a tall man nudged his way into the scene.
“Welcome home, Fiona.”
“Hi, Norman,” Fiona replied. “Here to visit?”
“He’s here every day, Sister,” Cecilia told her.
“Oh, so you didn’t miss me at all, then.”
“N-no, Sister! You and Norman are completely different to me!”
Fiona giggled. “I’m sure we are.”
Hans’s eyes got misty as he listened to the girls’ delighted squeals. At his side, Giles warmly beheld the scene until his attention was drawn by Baron Clayburn’s hasty footsteps.
“Baron,” Giles said in greeting.
The baron had until that moment only noticed his daughter, but when he heard Giles’s voice, he shot up straight and bowed stiffly to him. “W-well hello there, Lord Lowell!”
“Do forgive me for returning your daughter later than planned.”
“N-not at all! I know my house is grossly ill-equipped to prepare anyone for a royal commendation ceremony. I shall be forever indebted to the Marquess Heyward!”
After a brief pause, Giles said, “Baron, may I have a moment of your time?”
A chill ran through the Baron’s heart when he observed the difference in Giles’s mood from previous meetings, but he was not about to disgrace himself by rejecting an offer from the heir to an earl. “Huh?! Um, of course! Y-yes, it would be my pleasure!”
Giles smiled a bit stiffly at the baron’s overly gracious assent.
“W-well then, shall we head to the parlor? Oh, Fiona, Cecelia, you can carry on your conversation once you’re inside.”
“Yes, Father!” Cecelia said in a loving singsong. “Sister, I’ve asked the cook to make all your favorite dishes for supper tonight! Oh, oh, and also—”
“Cecelia,” Fiona said, “it’s all right. Just calm down.”
“I don’t think she can,” Norman put in. “She’s been like that all day.”
“Norman! You promised not to breathe a word!” Cecilia protested.
Fiona knew that too much excitement would cause Cecelia to break out into a fever. Still, even as she calmed her little sister while they walked toward the front door, she felt elated about the warm welcome she’d received.
Compared to the Heyward and Bancroft mansions, the Clayburn house was like a small townhouse, but it possessed a coziness that Fiona had dearly missed. She felt so relaxed there. I really do think this is the perfect-sized home for me.
As Cecelia and Norman walked her through the front door, a pair of arms suddenly grabbed Fiona from the shadows and started to drag her away.
“Eek!”
“Fiona!” Giles, who had been following closely behind, stepped between them and jabbed the invisible assailant.
Ah! That was…terrifying… Fiona’s heart was pounding—definitely because of the shock—not because Giles’s arms were wrapped tightly around her.
There was a pause, and then Giles asked flatly, “Who is this man?”
“Oh! Um, Lord Lowell—”
The clear guardedness in Giles’s deep voice cast an icy chill over the room. The baron cut himself off mid-sentence and snapped his mouth shut.
Fiona’s assailant had collapsed behind the pot of a giant houseplant and was obscured from view. “Owww!” he said. “Ha ha ha, well, that was a rough welcome.”
“Huh?” Fiona recognized that fearless voice.
The man slowly pulled himself up to sit, his hands clamped to his bottom. Fiona peered out cautiously from Giles’s firm embrace and saw a shocked Norman, a wide-eyed Cecelia, and—
“Hey there, Fiona.”
“U-Uncle?!”
Though he was supposed to be overseas, the person splayed on the floor before them was none other than Reginald Bailey.