Chapter 4:
Revelations of Painting and Personage
IT WAS TIME for Giles’s meeting with Reginald, but when he arrived at the gallery, Dennis was the only one in the back office. Dennis had initially been hired to work at the gallery so that he could act as Fiona’s bodyguard, but by this point, he was a full-fledged member of the staff. Having served under Giles in the military in the past, he put down his pen and stood at attention as soon as he spotted his former superior officer. He suppressed the urge to give a formal military salute and instead went for a frantic bow, then peered behind Giles questioningly.
“Um…are you alone today?” he asked.
“Is there a problem with that?” Giles asked gruffly.
“Ah! N-no, of course not! That’s right, Miss Fiona returned to her family home, didn’t she?”
Giles looked away from the flustered man and over to the low-set table. A large parcel lay atop it, tied up with string.
“Th-those are the paintings Mr. Reginald brought,” Dennis explained. “We’re going to open the parcel today.”
That was the answer Giles was expecting to hear. Though he’d been surprised when Reginald asked to meet him at the gallery, he thought he knew what it was about.
But why does he want to show me these paintings?
Fiona was excited about it, so Giles figured that Reginald had good taste and the paintings on the table would turn out to be great art. The fact that they were in Roche’s possession, however, meant there was already a buyer. Why would Reginald want to tempt Giles with them?
“Have you been told what kind of paintings they are?” Giles asked.
“No, we were just told to keep them safe here,” said Dennis. “Not even Mr. Roche has seen them. I’m quite excited to see what’s inside.”
Giles was a little surprised to hear impatience and enthusiasm in Dennis’s voice. “Are you an art man, Dennis?”
“Uh…no. I was neutral about art in the past, to tell the truth, but after I started working here, I’ve come to learn how great art is. I’m…easy to please, aren’t I?” Dennis chuckled and nervously scratched his head, but Giles did not mind his earnestness. “Truth be told, I was going to seek employment elsewhere once my bodyguard skills were no longer needed, but now I’d like to stay here as long as possible.”
“I see.”
“I learn something new every day, so it’s very fulfilling work. I’m even going to visit an auction soon.”
“Yes, I remember you excelled at bargaining. I think you’ll be good at it.” Dennis had also done intelligence work in the military. The fields were different, but some of his skills were surely transferable, and though Giles had more or less forced Dennis to accept the bodyguarding gig, it pleased Giles to hear that he was happy with the way things had turned out.
“Well, I’m not sure how good I’ll be, but yes, I’m very excited to find out,” Dennis said.
Roche entered the gallery then with Rudolph in tow, and Dennis yelped, “R-Rudolph! Why, you—!”
He rushed over to Rudolph, who appeared to be about to say something, and clamped a hand over his mouth. While Dennis pressed down to keep the mumbling boy’s mouth shut, the door behind them opened, and in walked Fiona…and Reginald.
“Oh my, aren’t we having fun today?” Fiona’s eyes sparkled as she watched Dennis and Rudolph scuffle.
Her hand was firmly in her uncle’s grip. The gallery, Giles knew, was like a second home to Fiona. He doubted that she required and escort but was in no position to raise an objection.
Fiona turned to greet him. “Lord Giles, thank you for everything yesterday.”
“Not at all.”
Noticing Giles’s gaze, Fiona tried to retract her hand from Reginald’s grip, but he only seemed to squeeze her hand tighter. He then shot Giles a provocative gaze from an angle that ensured Fiona wouldn’t catch him in the act.
This son of a bitch. Giles was being played.
Noticing Reginald’s devilish antics, Roche grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking resigned. Giles surmised that this behavior must be typical for Reginald.
“Uncle, I can’t open the paintings unless you let me go,” Fiona told him.
“Huh? Aww, well, if I must.”
The moment Reginald’s hand left hers, Fiona marched over to the parcel, her eagerness visible in every line of her body. Reginald sulked in her wake, apparently sour about taking second place to the paintings in Fiona’s heart.
What’s this? Giles thought, surprised by the sensation arising within him. He thought he had felt something like this before. For the first time in a long time, his heart was stirring.
From an early age, he had been made to believe that it was foolish to let one’s feelings be impacted by others. The lesson was pounded into him. By letting your emotions show or allowing your heart to dictate your actions, you displayed your shortcomings as an aristocrat. But ever since he met Fiona, he’d experienced so many exceptions to the rule.
She approached everyone, not only Giles, with sincerity instead of pretense, and Giles could not help but reciprocate. He knew their romance was only an act, and knowing that, he had expressed feelings best left hidden. And I didn’t mind it either.
As the heir to the Bancroft name, his behavior was out of character, but he wasn’t even sure what was in character for him. Privately, he scorned himself for harboring such adolescent doubts at his age.
“Mr. Roche, can I open it now?” Fiona asked, glowing with anticipation as she stared at the bundle of paintings.
“Yes, please do,” Roche replied, handing her the scissors. The sound of the string snapping returned Giles to the present.
Rudolph, who had stopped his whining and wandered over to the table, was obviously equally keen to see the parcel’s contents. Everyone in the room waited with bated breath.
No, not everyone—Reginald, the man who had delivered the art, maintained a carefree stance. The insouciant way he had sat down on a desk instead of a sofa should have raised a few eyebrows, but Giles knew that worrying about Reginald’s behavior was a waste of time.