didn’t want any part of it?”
“I don’t want any part of Meri, but I have no qualms with the three of you.” He took another sip.
“What time? The earlier the better for me. I’ve several appointments tomorrow at my shop in the arcade.”
His intense stare found hers. “You work?”
“Yes. I have my own business. I make linens and bedding.”
“Interesting.” The lines around his eyes relaxed. “How did you get into that?”
“I’ve always liked to work, and after my mother died, I had to find something to do to help me with my grief.” It was stretching the tale a little.
She had been grieving, but mostly it was to put food on the table. Her mother had ensured they had food daily, even if it meant taking parts others would shun. Kat had learned about necessity and sacrifice at a young age.
“I enjoy working also. I like to be productive.” He placed his empty glass on his desk and studied her. Silence slowly surrounded them. “Katherine, let me be frank. You said I can help those women. I’ll do what I can, but let’s make certain we understand each other. I’m not that type of hero.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, nervously smoothing the nap of a black velvet upholstery sample.
“I may be decorated for heroic deeds…” He rubbed his neck as he studied the Aubusson rug below their feet for a moment, then caught her gaze, his long black hair falling across his face. “But I’m not a hero, romantic or otherwise, particularly when it comes to Meri.” He shook his head slowly. “I washed my hands of him years ago. I’ll offer whatever assistance I can to you and the other wives but don’t expect miracles. Meri’s indiscretions are the devil to untangle. They always have been. But this one tops them all.”
“Did you hate him?” Katherine asked. Christian had been cold in the solicitor’s office, but his response tonight reminded her of a wounded animal, one that would attack to protect itself.
“A person has to care before he can hate.” His eyes grew hooded.
If she were a betting person, she’d lay money it was a way to conceal himself before he revealed too much.
When he turned to walk back to his desk, she saw the family portrait propped against the wall. The father embraced his son who leaned over his lap, while the mother, dressed as Pomona, the goddess of fruitful abundance, stood behind them with her hand resting on her husband’s shoulder. A lone figure, a boy older than the other, stood stiffly off to the side, obviously uneasy with the sweet bucolic scene in the small garden.
But the painting wasn’t what caused Katherine’s gaze to widen in shock.
It was the small pieces of foolscap that had been pinned through the portrait. It completely destroyed the work of art. There must have been at least fifty of the small pieces of paper.
“What is that?” She pointed to the portrait.
“It’s a map of sorts. How I keep track of important items or things that need my attention.”
“It looks like a family portrait.” She moved closer to study it. Indeed, the individual pieces of foolscap all had writing on them, each held in place by a straight pin. The only individual without a single piece of paper was the boy who stood far away. “Is that you?”
“Hmm, yes,” he hummed. “Ingenious, isn’t it?”
“What’s ingenious about destroying a portrait?”
“I’ve found a new purpose for things of no value,” he answered. “It makes a perfect place to keep notes. I started the habit while mapping troop movements to various battlegrounds.” He turned to her and smiled. “Rest assured, we didn’t destroy any art while over in France. We used empty canvases for our work.”
He was absurdly calm, without a hint of embarrassment showing on his face, as he walked to her side. He tilted his head and examined his handiwork.
“You’ve ruined a piece of art. A family heirloom.”
“Art is in the eye of the beholder,” he countered. “I behold rubbish.”
Before she had time to respond, Willa and Morgan entered the study.
Katherine turned to the door, thankful for the interruption.
Apparently, Willa and Christian’s valet had become bosom friends. They had their heads tilted next to each other. Willa made some quip, and Morgan held his stomach, laughing.
“My God, it’s a miracle,” Christian said behind Katherine. “I haven’t seen him laugh like that for months. He’s been in such pain since he lost that eye. Your Willa must be some kind of a