The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,52
pleased he kept his pace slow and steady; she got the impression he was consciously taking each step.
They reached the library door, and she opened it and sent it swinging wide.
She looked at Godfrey in time to see him fill his lungs. A subtle change swept over his face, a polite, urbane mask settling into place. That she saw the transformation so clearly brought home the fact that he hadn’t been wearing any mask before—with her.
He didn’t wear one with Wally, either.
Did that mean she was included among those people he didn’t screen his reactions from?
She had no chance to dwell on the thought. Godfrey smiled at her, elegantly ushered her through the door, then stepped to her side once more. Arm in arm, they walked down the long room to where her father and his friends sat before the roaring fire.
“Papa, Mr. Cavanaugh is keen to meet you.” She and Godfrey halted a few feet from her father’s chair. She smiled at her father, then looked at Godfrey. “My father, Mr. Matthew Hinckley.”
Godfrey executed an abbreviated bow. “Mr. Hinckley, it’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I regret that the aftermath of the storm has kept me from meeting you until now.”
Mr. Hinckley inclined his head and extended his hand, which Godfrey stepped forward and grasped. “I’m delighted to see you on your feet again, sir, and I regret that my condition”—as Godfrey released his hand, Mr. Hinckley gestured to his legs—“made it impossible for me to visit you earlier.” Mr. Hinckley paused, studying Godfrey’s face. “I take it you’ve recovered sufficiently to join us.”
“Indeed. If it’s no imposition?”
“Not at all, not at all.” Mr. Hinckley waved to Morris and Pyne. “I believe you’ve already met these gentlemen.”
“I have.” Godfrey nodded to both men.
“Here!” Pyne leapt up from the chair closest to the fire, the one opposite Mr. Hinckley’s. “Sit here. I’ll fetch another.”
Godfrey inclined his head in thanks, then smiled at Ellie and drew his arm from hers. “Thank you for your escort, Miss Hinckley.”
Ellie felt like curtsying, but restrained the urge. She watched Godfrey cross unaided to the chair Pyne had vacated. Once seated, he leaned across and shook Morris’s and Pyne’s hands.
Ellie glanced at her father, a question in her eyes.
Her father smiled at her. “You may leave him with us, my dear. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to chat about to pass the time.”
She nodded; with a last glance at Godfrey, who was responding to some question from Pyne, she turned and left the room.
From beneath his lashes, Godfrey watched her go, then, having assured Pyne that he was, indeed, fully recovered, turned to Mr. Hinckley. “I expect to commence my assessment of the Albertinelli tomorrow.”
“Excellent!” Hinckley thought, then asked, “How long will your examination take?”
“Until I’ve sighted the painting, I can’t say. The process varies considerably, depending on the painting and on its current state. Some can be verified in a few hours, while others might take several days.”
“But,” Morris said, “only days, not weeks?”
Godfrey nodded. “Few paintings would require more than three or, at the most, four days of study.”
Mr. Hinckley leaned forward. “How, exactly, do you go about it—your process?”
Godfrey explained his approach to examining paintings, expanding on what he’d told Ellie earlier. Pyne remained genuinely interested and asked several pertinent questions to which Godfrey readily replied.
Morris remained largely silent, but Godfrey could see he was listening intently; he seemed a man of few words.
In contrast, Pyne was garrulous, and Matthew Hinckley easily held his own as the conversation moved on from Godfrey’s upcoming task for the National Gallery to the steps involved in any purchase they made—a procedure with which Godfrey had considerable experience. From there, the talk shifted to the weather and the snowstorm and its impact not only on the Hinckleys’ proposed sale but also on Pyne’s printing business in Ripon and, even more, the crops on both the Hinckley estate and Morris’s Malton Farm.
Although Godfrey had no acres to manage, courtesy of his boyhood spent on the Raventhorne estate, he had a passing understanding of crops and the effects of unseasonable weather. The impact of the heavy snow and the freezing conditions was the one topic on which Morris grew almost eloquent. Godfrey deduced that while Matthew Hinckley wasn’t overextended to the point of being dependent on his current crops, Morris was a great deal more nervous over what the ultimate effect on his income might be.
Subsequently, Matthew Hinckley swung the talk to hunting and fishing, and