The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,104
throat and said, “As I’ll be leaving in the morning myself, I would like to offer to join your men in escorting Masterton to Hull. I know the docks there and will happily purchase his ticket and watch until the ferry is well out to sea with him on it.” Jeffers shook his head. “Meeting Masterton has been an education—one that will stand me in good stead in assessing future debtors.”
Godfrey smiled appreciatively, as did Ellie.
Mr. Hinckley inclined his head. “Thank you, Mr. Jeffers. If it won’t inconvenience you overmuch, I would be relieved to know there was someone with my men who understood the depths of Masterton’s duplicity.”
“Indeed. I doubt he’ll even attempt to cozen me.” Jeffers glanced at the Hinckleys—Harry and Maggie as well. “I would also like to assure you that my partner and I will not be pursuing Masterton’s debt. We were prepared to deem it a write-off from the first, and so we shall. We wouldn’t have pursued him in the first place if we’d had any inkling he would resort to criminal acts to get the funds.” Jeffers looked at Godfrey. “I gather you intend to retrieve the painting from that count?”
Godfrey hesitated, but he couldn’t not speak. “Sadly, that was a piece of bad news.” He met Mr. Hinckley’s eyes. “Count Wurtzberg is something of an infamous figure in the art world—he’s an avid, avaricious collector with no conscience whatsoever. As he also has strong ties to the Austrian royal family, it’s proved difficult to pursue the many works that are suspected to have vanished into his private collection. Essentially, within Austria, the count is above the law.”
Ellie’s fingers gripped his, and she swiveled to face him. “So we won’t be able to reclaim the Albertinelli?”
He faintly grimaced and squeezed her fingers back. “I’ll certainly look into it and see what can be done, but”—he glanced at the other Hinckleys, all now distinctly sober—“I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
Mr. Hinckley sighed. “What will be, will be.” He glanced at his children. “Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”
With a nod to himself, Mr. Hinckley returned his attention to Jeffers. “Mr. Jeffers, I and my family are indebted to you for your assistance throughout this sorry business, and I regret that you and your partner, through no fault of yours, have become embroiled in my cousin’s schemes. While I appreciate your offer to waive Masterton’s debt, I’m afraid we cannot accept it—for good or ill, Masterton was a member of this family, and leaving such a debt unpaid would be a stain on the family’s honor. I believe you said the sum involved was just over one thousand pounds. I will hold myself responsible for repaying it, if you and Mr. Thornton will let me know the full sum.”
Jeffers opened his mouth, then closed it. He glanced at Ellie, Harry, and Maggie, but their serious expressions gave him no encouragement to argue. Nevertheless, he ventured, “That’s very kind of you, sir, but it’s really not necessary.”
Mr. Hinckley widened his eyes. “But surely your firm requires capital to continue to operate as a legitimate and respectable bank?”
Jeffers shifted. “Well, yes, obviously we would prefer to get the funds in, but in this particular instance, we’ll manage.”
Godfrey decided he quite liked Jeffers.
Mr. Hinckley shook his head. “Young man, you must see that I cannot countenance leaving such a debt unpaid.”
Godfrey wasn’t surprised by Mr. Hinckley’s stance; indeed, he’d expected it. “If I might make another suggestion?”
When Jeffers and the Hinckleys looked his way, he directed his query to all four Hinckleys. “Do you value the ugly cherub you use as a doorstop in the dining room?” When they all blinked, he clarified, “Are you fond of it? Do you have any sentimental attachment to it? Does it mean anything or represent anything important to you?”
Harry frowned. “No. As you say, it’s ugly.”
Mr. Hinckley humphed. “We use it as a doorstop because it’s ugly and we have no other use for it.”
Ellie and Maggie nodded.
“In that case”—Godfrey looked at Harry—“perhaps you might fetch it?”
Harry gave him an odd look, but stood and left the room. He was back in less than a minute, carrying the cherub.
Just over a foot tall, on a base of perhaps five inches square, the marble cherub stood with one hand resting on a short column. Its round bald head, exaggeratedly rounded features, and cupid-bow lips, instead of giving it a benevolent air, made it look faintly menacing.