A Scandalous Portrait (The Rose Room Rogues #1) - Callie Hutton Page 0,62

able to enter the club using his key, instead of breaking into the place.

Even though he expected no trouble, he stopped at the library first and took one of his pistols out of the case and tucked it into his pocket.

“Surely you don’t plan to shoot one of your brothers?” Diana looked at him with horror.

“No, my love. But it is always safer when one is out and about London late at night to have protection.”

To keep from startling the servants, they left through the back door. Their carriage awaited them, since there was no reason this time to avoid his vehicle being noticed. He had every right to be at the club. Even if it was after it closed.

As they made their way to The Rose Room, he thought about the portrait and how it had brought him and Diana together. Would he have changed his mind about her had he not seen her in the nude? That had certainly put her into a whole new light.

However, for as much as he’d been obsessed with lust for her once he’d seen the painting, now that he’d viewed her in the flesh, the portrait did nothing for him. Mallory did get it all wrong and his painting did not compare to Diana in the flesh, soft and warm and cuddled next to him.

With very little traffic on the streets, the carriage arrived quickly. “Even though we’re not illegally entering the building, I still prefer to go through the back door.”

He led her down the alleyway to the rear of the building. Using his key, he opened the door and they entered. “I am going to put on a few lights to help. If anyone from the Watch sees us, there is nothing wrong with one of the owners wandering the club after it’s closed.”

The place always looked so different when cast in dark shadows. The gaming tables resembled monsters waiting to pounce on a poor soul to grab and haul one to some evil place. The smell of whiskey and cheroots surrounded them as they wove their way around the tables.

“It looks quite different when empty,” Diana said in a whisper.

Hunt nodded and took her hand to lead her to the wall where the portrait hung. He picked up one of the oil lamps from a table to carry with him.

“I think when we get to the portrait, the best way to do this is for you to climb onto my shoulders. That should make you tall enough to pluck the painting off the wall. Just be careful that it doesn’t throw you off balance.”

Diana nodded.

They arrived at the wall, and Hunt held up the oil lamp.

They both stared at the empty space where the portrait hung only hours before.

He turned to Diana, who looked back at him, both of their jaws slack.

“Where is the portrait?” they said at the same time.

“Oh, the devil take it,” Diana said, apparently not too concerned about her language at this point. “Do you think your brother sold it? Do you think one of the patrons won it? Didn’t I hear there was some sort of betting going on?” Her shaky voice rose higher and higher with each question until Hunt was certain she was working herself into a full-blown panic.

“Calm down, sweetheart. I don’t know why they took it off the wall, but I’m sure it’s in the office upstairs.” He took her ice-cold hand. “Come.”

It had better be in the office upstairs. He couldn’t imagine why it would not be. He didn’t even want to consider Diana’s concerns about someone from the club winning it. He told himself the sweat that broke out on his body was from the exertion of climbing the steps to the office and not abject terror at that possibility.

He flung the door open, and they entered, lighting all the lamps as they wandered the space.

“I don’t see it.” Diana’s voice was a dejected whisper.

They searched the office, as well as the supply room next to it. No portrait.

Hunt ran his hand down his face and then held his hand out to Diana. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my brother’s house so I can kill him.”

“You can’t go to Dante’s house to kill him this late. He’s probably sleeping.”

“Good, then he won’t know what hit him.” He dragged her along the corridor, down the steps, and out the door. He just about tossed her into the carriage, slammed the door, and slumped in the corner of the vehicle.

Diana’s

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