The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,73
gathered her skirts and sat on the sofa, opposite her father, then sat beside her. “I completed my assessment of your painting and took a long walk to order my thoughts.”
“Ah.” Mr. Hinckley folded the newspaper and set it on the side table by his elbow. Then he set his hands in his lap and, his expression one of pleasant expectation, looked at Godfrey.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
Before he could speak, Ellie leaned forward, drawing her father’s gaze. “Papa, Godfrey is certain the painting we have is a forgery.”
Mr. Hinckley blinked, and all color drained from his face. “What?” He looked from Ellie to Godfrey, then back again, clearly reading the truth in their faces. “But…” Mr. Hinckley’s face creased with confusion. “How?”
“Indeed.” Reclaiming the reins, Godfrey succinctly outlined what he was now convinced had occurred. After answering Mr. Hinckley’s questions, Godfrey concluded by stating that it might be possible to reclaim the painting, so all might not be lost.
Unsurprisingly, Mr. Hinckley wished to know how.
After explaining his plan to demand the name of who had commissioned the forgery from the forger himself, with a glance at Ellie, Godfrey said, “I had thought that, with the weather as it is, I might ask one of my brothers who has his own yacht to go in my stead, but on reflection, I doubt that will work.” He sat straighter. “It will have to be me, because Hendall will know who I am—what I do—and so know there’s no point in trying to obfuscate and deny his involvement.” He paused, then added, “I anticipate a certain amount of persuasion will be needed to convince Hendall to cooperate, but ultimately, given you hold the provenance and I can testify to the forgery being his, I believe he’ll cut his losses and reveal who paid him to copy the Albertinelli.”
Ellie frowned. “If it has to be you who speaks with this Hendall person, that will have to wait until later in the year, once the seas are safe to cross.”
Mr. Hinckley regarded his daughter for a moment, no doubt taking in the militant look in her eye, then humphed and didn’t argue. Instead, he looked at Godfrey and asked, “Once you know who commissioned the forgery, what then?”
“Then we speak with that person and make it clear that the only way they’ll escape retribution is by assisting in reclaiming the original painting from whomever they’ve sold it to and restoring it to the rightful owners—namely, the Hinckleys.”
Mr. Hinckley’s expression turned thoughtful, then he nodded. “I like the way you think.” He glanced sidelong at Ellie, then returned his gaze to Godfrey. “As I mentioned to you before, the family can manage, at least well enough for now, without the extra funds from the sale of the painting.”
From the older man’s expression, Godfrey understood that he wasn’t supposed to tell Ellie just how concerned her father was over the family’s financial position; knowing that he himself would bail them out if the need arose, he nodded his agreement to Mr. Hinckley’s unstated request.
Mr. Hinckley glanced again at Ellie, then drew breath and addressed Godfrey. “One question I feel I must ask, Mr. Cavanaugh, is why you’re willing to go to such lengths for us. We can’t afford to pay for your time—”
Godfrey waved the notion aside. “I don’t seek payment, sir.” He looked at Ellie and smiled a touch ruefully. “And truth be told, I don’t need money—that’s not what’s driving me in this.” He held Ellie’s gaze for a moment, willing her to see his principal reason, then looked at her father. “Those who know me and my interest in artworks would say I’m obsessed with detecting and exposing forgeries. It’s something of a personal crusade, which has its genesis in my experiences at the hands of a close family member who was a past master at deception and deceit. What I do now—what I am now—is a reaction to my past. In the field of authenticating artworks, I’m now regarded as an expert in detecting fraudulent works…”
He paused as a novel thought struck. After a moment, he went on, “I was going to say that my reputation is why Eastlake and the directors of the gallery called me in, which is the bald truth. Knowing what I now do about your painting, I have to wonder if Eastlake, who is very well connected in the world of art, which isn’t all that huge, had heard some rumor about the