To Dance until Dawn - Emma V. Leech Page 0,26

irritable, and she found she did not much like her own company. Likely no one else did either, she thought with a sigh.

The buffet was opened at last and Phoebe made a beeline for the sweet treats, piling a small plate high with tiny pains a la duchesse and other delectable items before finding a quiet corner to munch them in. She had just set her empty plate aside with a sigh of contentment when a familiar voice hailed her.

“Well, and here is a sight for sore eyes.”

Her spirits rose a little as Alvanly hailed her.

“Oh, you’re here, are you?” she said, smiling at him.

“Indeed I am, you ungrateful creature.”

“Ungrateful?” she demanded, her eyebrows going up. “How so?”

“For I only faced this wretched crush to rescue you from boredom and all I get for my pains is an oh, you’re here, are you?”

Phoebe could only laugh at the reproach in his eyes.

“Oh, you are ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “But I am glad, all the same.”

“I should think so,” he scolded gently, taking her arm. “I really don’t see why everyone is in such a lather about this stupid picture, though.”

“Oh, do you know what it is, then?” Phoebe asked.

“Indeed I do,” he whispered, his voice heavy with a conspiratorial undertone. “And I still don’t understand the fuss,” he added with a laugh.

“Oh, tell me, you wretch.”

Alvanly rolled his eyes. “Very well. It’s called Christ Mocked, and is quite old, and now you know as much as I do.”

“Oh.” Phoebe was disappointed to hear it was a religious subject, for she did not much care for them. “Well, I’m afraid I am a dreadful philistine, for I cannot find a great deal of excitement in such a subject. I much prefer modern artists, Turner, for example. Though to be sure I can imagine it is of great importance to history.”

“No, I know. Think how disappointed everyone will be to discover it is not some shocking new artist’s work, like the one she displayed last year.”

“Oh, I wasn’t here last year,” Phoebe said with regret, remembering talk of the scandalous nude that had been displayed. “Papa knew what the painting was and wouldn’t let me come.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Alvanly muttered.

Phoebe cast him a sharp glance, but the man just flashed her a grin.

“Come along,” he said. “I know exactly how we can enliven this deadly affair.”

“Oh?”

Alvanly did not reply. He only tugged her arm, and bore her inexorably up the stairs. Phoebe was not alarmed, for all the rooms, including the bedrooms, had been emptied and were open to the crowds. Up here, as downstairs, the sound of music drifted from a small chamber orchestra and, in some rooms, tables and chairs had been set up for the card players.

She did quail a little as he tugged her past a silken rope, though, tied across a darkened corridor with a private sign sewn onto it.

“Alvanly!” she said, resisting him and grinding to a halt. “What are you about? I’ll not go trysting with you, if that’s your intention.”

The baron tutted at her.

“I never expected you to,” he retorted, obviously stung by the implication.

“Well, what then?”

Alvanly huffed and looked around to check they were not observed. “This is where the painting is. Mrs Manning will lead her guests up here shortly to view the painting. Just think how shocked she’ll be if it isn’t there.”

Phoebe stared at him open mouthed.

“Oh, don’t look like that. Only for a minute,” he said, laughing at her horrified reaction. “Just until she gives a little shriek and then I shall go, ta da! And present the horrid thing to her again. How funny it will be to see them all squeal in shock and then gasp and wonder how I did it. They shall call me The Magician.”

He winked at her and Phoebe frowned, troubled.

“How will you do it? The door is bound to be locked.”

Alvanly rolled his eyes. “I won’t, you pretty gudgeon. You must unlock the door for me with your clever fingers, but I’ll do the rest. Come along, it will be a lark. I won’t tell anyone you helped me, so there’s no harm.”

Phoebe shook her head. “I… I don’t think so….”

Alvanly sighed and returned a mocking expression. “Oh, I see. He’s spoken to you at last, I suppose.”

“What? Who?” Phoebe asked, wondering at the change of subject.

“No, never mind.” The baron waved a dismissive hand and shook his head, turning to go back the way they’d come, but he