Free One More Kiss by Mary Blayney

look. “Does this work so far?”
    Jess pretended offense, matching her mood. “Theft is not one of my areas of expertise. Belmont would know better.” His inference was quite deliberate and Miss Brent gave all her attention to the earl.
    Belmont shook his head. “What Jess means is that I have helped several friends find lost items. As I told you, I can never resist a puzzle.” Belmont finished off his wine before adding, “It sounds plausible so far, Miss Brent. Pray, continue.”
    She closed her eyes as though that would fortify her as much as the wine was fortifying Belmont. “I would replace the real painting with the forgery and return it to the owner with the sad news that it is not truly a Rembrandt—the advantage being that when I am able to sell it, the buyer could announce the discovery of the original from which my owner’s forgery was copied. Is that too complicated?”
    “Not at all complicated, my dear,” said the earl andthen waited for the footman to step back after refilling his glass.
    Despite the amazing amounts of wine the man imbibed, he was never foxed. The only sign that Jess could find was when he began to call the ladies “my dear.” Was it because he drank only wine, never brandy or other spirits?
    “Not too complicated,” Belmont repeated, “but it does involve at least one other person who could attempt blackmail at some later point.”
    “Do you think so?” Beatrice said with some disappointment, but after a brief pause she shook her head. “But I would know that he is an art forger, which is an equally valid basis for blackmail. It would be quid pro quo.”
    Her naïveté was showing here, Jess thought. “Yes, but that would end the moment either one of you admitted the forgery and theft to someone else,” he said.
    “I am sure neither one of us would be foolish enough to do that,” she insisted with a firm shake of her head, as if she knew the forger as well as she knew herself.
    “So you think you could keep your own counsel. Never speak of it to anyone, not even your sister, your twin?”
Or your lover?
He kept that one to himself.
    “Yes, I am sure I could keep the secret. There are many things I never tell Ceci. She does worry so much. About everything.”
    “I can see why, if constructing clever ways to steal art is one of your hobbies.” He smiled.
    “The earl did ask, my lord.”
    “You mean all one must do is ask in order to lead you into a life of crime?”
Or sin?
    Belmont’s bark of laughter drew both their attention.“Jess, you deserve to be in her black books to even hint that Miss Brent would so easily stray from the right path.”
    “Belmont, you are a devil. How do I answer that? It would be rude of me to say that Miss Brent is too sensitive or that I was not teasing at all.”
    “Which was it, my lord?” Miss Brent asked, without a smile now. She moved in her seat so that even her skirt was not touching him.
    “Neither,” he insisted, feeling trapped.
    Miss Brent turned to Lord Belmont. “So here is another mystery for you to solve, my lord.”
    Belmont smiled. “Lord Jess’s behavior is no mystery at all, my dear Miss Brent. But I will leave you to decipher it from the clues you have.”
    Miss Brent looked from one to the other, clearly wondering what Belmont knew that she did not.
    “In the meantime,” Lord Belmont went on, “do tell me how you can tell a real Rembrandt from his lesser imitators. I find I am fascinated and want details, if you please, my dear.”
    Jess turned to Mrs. Kendrick, reminding himself that Miss Beatrice Brent was a woman he had no business trying to charm.
    L ORD D ESTRY FINISHED his opening conversation with the countess and, before he turned to her, Cecilia watched him take the salt and sprinkle some into his wineglass. Puzzled, she wondered exactly what that would do to the wine. Anxious to fit in, she took some salt from the cellar nearest her and did the same thing.
    “Miss Brent, do tell Miss Wilson