Free Secrets of Nanreath Hall by Alix Rickloff Page B

name was Handley. I don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember that.”
    â€œNot to take sides, but I think she might be telling the truth,” Lambert interrupted. “There’s definitely something similar about the eyes and perhaps a bit round the mouth. A little rouge and lipstick, Hugh, and you’d be her spitting image.”
    â€œHa bloody ha. You’re not helping.”
    â€œMaybe I should leave you two to sort the mystery out without my interference.” Lambert rose, taking up his cap. “It was very nice meeting you, Miss Trenowyth. Good luck with this clod. He’s not a bad sort despite his snarling.”
    Hugh continued to glare, his hands twitching at his sides, as if he wished to punch something. “Look, Miss Handley or Trenowyth or whatever name you’re using today. I’m not sure what you hope to gain, but—”
    â€œAnna! Golly, I wondered where you’d gotten to.” Sophie came careening into the gallery, pulling up out of breath. “Oh dear.” She sighed. “I’d no idea you’d have companions.”
    â€œDon’t mind me,” Hugh complained. “I’m just trying to relax in my own home. A pointless endeavor as it turns out.”
    â€œDon’t be dramatic, Hugh. It doesn’t suit.” Sophie waved his sarcasm off, as if whisking away a tiresome child—or an irritating servant.
    â€œMiss Trenowyth?” Flight Lieutenant Lambert stood just tothe left of the chimneypiece, an odd expression darkening his easy, pleasant features. “You might want to see this.”
    Anna followed his gaze. A young woman in a sea-green gown stood with one hand resting upon a metal garden bench. Her head was slightly tilted, as if she stared at something or someone just beyond the edge of the canvas. A smile hovered over her lips, her gold-flecked blue eyes dancing with pleasure.
    â€œIt’s an incredible likeness,” he said, looking from the painting to Anna and back again.
    She swallowed, unable to pull her gaze from the riveting intimacy caught by the artist. So different from the solemn reserve of the locket’s photograph. This woman glowed from within.
    â€œYou found it.” Sophie’s voice broke the spell. “As soon as you told me your name, I immediately remembered this painting and put the two together. It must have been done shortly before the last war.”
    â€œWho is she?” Lambert asked.
    Anna sensed Hugh’s presence at her shoulder. She felt the tension in his frame like a vibration through the dusty air. “My father’s younger sister,” he answered. “Lady Katherine Trenowyth.”
    Anna moistened her lips as a strange, quivering excitement centered in her chest. She lifted a hand, as if to touch the swell of alabaster cheek. “My mother.”
    N ight hovered just beyond the dim glow of the green-shaded table lamp, peopled with silent generations of Trenowyths all watching Anna with unblinking eyes and fixed smiles. Did they welcome her as one of the family? Or did they stiffen with indignation, as Hugh had done just before he’d offered her his hand with all the cool politeness of the very angry?
    She knew the gallery was off-limits to staff and if she werecaught, there would be hell to pay, but she’d returned at the end of her shift to sit among these men and women in silent introduction.
    Her eyes burned with lack of sleep, while her shoulder throbbed, the ache moving down her arm into her fingers. She had fixed herself a cup of tea, but what she really wanted was a whiskey. Something to ease the pain in both her shoulder and her heart.
    She turned her chair so that her mother’s portrait was just off to her right. She had merely to cock her head to see the lively smile and clever gleam in Lady Katherine Trenowyth’s blue eyes. Anna pulled her locket from her blouse, snapped it open. There was no comparison between