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reputation now felt recklessly foolish. There had to be another way to ensure her freedom, to convince her father that Lord Walling was ill suited for her, and most importantly, that her fascination with art was not a woman’s passing hobby.
    She stood, ready to flee the room, the mansion, and return home.
    Footsteps echoed down the hall.
    The door swung open, and Isabel lurched in surprise. Not only did Lord and Lady Yarmouth enter, but so did her father and Lord Walling.

Chapter 4

    Face ruddy and eyes wide behind round spectacles, Edward Cameron rushed to Isabel’s side and clasped her upper arms.
    “Isabel, we have been fraught with worry. The entire household has been looking for you.”
    Isabel looked at her father in surprise and said the first thing that came to mind. “How did you find me?”
    Edward frowned. “Lord Walling arrived for you this afternoon, and when you were nowhere to be found, we started to worry. Mr. Dante Black”—her father jerked his head to the door—“came to the house and informed us that you were at the estate sale of the late Lord Westley, and that you needed my aid.”
    Isabel looked behind her father to see that Dante had entered the room to stand beside Lord and Lady Yarmouth.
    Marcus Hawksley was nowhere in sight.
    “What would possess you to come here, Isabel?” Edward asked.
    “I, ah—”
    Dante Black stepped forward. “Perhaps if everyone will be seated, I will attempt to explain matters.”
    Isabel’s heart hammered as the occupants in the parlor followed Dante’s directions. The Yarmouths took the only settee in the room, and everyone else chose chairs.
    Isabel glanced at the Yarmouths. Lord Yarmouth was quite ordinary looking, a middle-aged man of average height with a receding hairline. Lady Yarmouth, the illegitimate daughter of the fourth Duke of Queensbury, was rotund with an ample bosom and shrewd brown eyes. After receiving a sizable inheritance from the deceased duke, she spent most of her time in Paris, but was currently visiting England. Isabel was well aware that Lady Yarmouth was a close acquaintance of Charlotte’s mother and a vicious gossipmonger. Anything that was said today would be speedily spread to all the female members of the ton by sunset.
    Dante spoke first. “I’ve summoned you here today because we all have one thing in common. The missing Gainsborough painting.”
    “Whatever are you speaking about?” Isabel’s father asked.
    “The Thomas Gainsborough painting is missing?” Lord Yarmouth sat forward, an intense look replacing his previously drab expression.
    Dante held up a hand. “The painting was scheduled to be auctioned off early this afternoon. When I sent my man to bring the painting to this parlor, he was attacked and the painting stolen.”
    “Attacked?” Isabel cried out. Dante had previously failed to mention an attack. “Is your man dead?”
    “No,” Dante said. “He sustained a nasty knock on the head, but he will survive. But as for the painting, it is worth a small fortune and is missing. The only man that had expressed interest in the painting, other than Lord Yarmouth on behalf of the Prince Regent, was Mr. Marcus Hawksley.”
    “Marcus Hawksley?” Lord Walling spoke up, the nostrils in his bulbous nose flaring in his florid face.
    “Yes.” Dante nodded. “As I was saying, Mr. Hawksley was the only other person that had viewed the work”—Dante stopped to look at Isabel—“or so I had believed. When I found Mr. Hawksley to question him, Lady Isabel came to his defense and said that he could not have taken the painting. Isn’t that correct, Lady Isabel?”
    “Isabel?” her father asked, a look of confusion on his face.
    All eyes turned to her, and she felt light-headed.
    Here is the moment of my ruin, she thought. The price I have to pay for my freedom.
    Her prior misgivings increased a hundredfold. Her breathing became ragged; her blood rushed through her ears like an avalanche.
    Save yourself! Her