Free Six Degrees of Scandal by Caroline Linden Page B

of waves. An unexpected flood of longing swamped her as he tilted his head and gave her a wry smile. “I don’t actually know anything for certain. Some of this is purely guessing. But it fits together, and I daresay Atherton will be able to answer more questions as he catalogs his father’s collection.”
    â€œTell me your guesses,” she said.
    His eyes met hers, filled with sympathy. “It’s not very flattering to the late Mr. Townsend.”
    â€œIt couldn’t be worse than what I’ve already contemplated,” she replied honestly. Her worst guess had been blackmail. Henry had kept company with a very fast set, and he must have known some of their secrets.
    Jamie’s mouth quirked. “No doubt.” He nodded toward her untouched dinner. “Don’t let it get cold.” Surprised, Olivia looked at her food, then picked up her fork. The prospect of some answers, or at least information, revived her appetite.
    Jamie was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as if he were sorting his thoughts. “Very well. I’ll start with Lord Stratford, because this is the part I heard first from Penelope and Atherton. Stratford was a well-known patron of the arts. He had an eye for promising artists, and his estate at Stratford Court is filled with exceptional pictures and sculpture. Atherton said the earl also had a private gallery, so private no one save Stratford himself was permitted to view it. Atherton saw it a few times as a boy, before his father decided his taste for art wasn’t refined enough, but now of course he’s master of Stratford Court and able to visit it at will. As fine as the collection around the house is, it’s nothing to the works in the private gallery. One of Atherton’s sisters married an artist, so he’s been able to confirm that several pictures are extremely valuable, yet have no provenance. There are no bills of sale in the earl’s records, nothing to indicate where they came from, which is odd for art. Normally there would be correspondencewith a dealer or prior owner or even the artist himself. It’s as if the pictures just appeared at Stratford Court.
    â€œThe other thing of interest Atherton told me was about a small cave, right on the river near his estate in Richmond. When Clary tried to kill my sister and Atherton jumped in after her, they made it to shore and took shelter in this cave. In the light of day, Atherton found crates suitable for holding paintings. The cave is on a piece of property the old earl acquired years ago, yet never cleared, sold, or even visited. It was let go back to wilderness, and Atherton thinks it might have been to provide cover to this cave. Any paintings could be sent by ship right into Richmond, deposited in the cave, and then retrieved by the earl or a loyal servant at a more convenient moment. No one would remark a small boat crossing the river, after all, and it’s a short enough journey it could be made at night.”
    â€œBut Henry didn’t know Lord Stratford,” Olivia pointed out. “Viscount Clary was one of his most elegant friends; I’m sure I would recall an earl.”
    Jamie tapped his temple. “Right you are. But Clary knew both of them—and before he pushed Penelope off the yacht, Clary said you had something he wanted, and what’s more, Stratford wanted it, too. I think Clary was the conduit between the smuggler—Henry—and the buyers—such as the Earl of Stratford.”
    She still had trouble believing it. “Perhaps . . . But how did Henry get these smuggled items? How did he know what to smuggle in the first place?He never showed any interest in art.” Henry had the usual gentleman’s education, which meant he’d spent a brief time abroad as a young man, but if it had made an impression, Olivia hadn’t seen evidence of it. Her husband’s interests had been principally ones of pleasure and comfort;