The Surrender of Miss Fairbourne Read Online Free PDF Page A

sometimes still held minor auctions, such as she had presented yesterday, or those of libraries or inexpensive objects. Robert’s plans aimed higher, and he saw Fairbourne’s competing with Christie’s in all ways and all things.
    They soon were well on their way to that status. That first year here, prior to Robert’s disappearance, had been the best year in her memory, full of optimism, good news, and a stream of impressive consignments.
    Her mind’s eye saw her father and brother within the great room as clearly as if they had materialized. She realized suddenly that this must have been why her father sold Southwaite that partnership. This was how he had used that money. She had not seen the connection before.
    She had been angry with Papa since she learned about that partnership from the solicitor. Now, with the memories of that glorious year filling her heart with sweet, aching emotion, she understood better.
    She faced Obediah. “What say you, old friend? Either we go forward together, or Fairbourne’s dies with yesterday’s whimper.”
    Obediah’s moist eyes suggested he had been dwelling in the past just as she had. “Seems we could try, at least, if you are determined,” he said. “Your father paid for my license, didn’t he? Seems right that I should call the final part of the final sale.” He smiled softly. “I’ll do my best to appear a man who knows more than I do, but I’m sure to be found out if anyone wants to unmask me.”
    “No one will try to do that, Obediah. Why would they bother?”
    He did not appear convinced, but he did not argue. “I suppose I should unpack that silver that you put aside, so it can be listed.” He walked away, back to the storage chamber.
    Emma prepared to return home. She was relieved that Obediah would stay on, and that he would accept the new role she had devised for him. Nor should anyone question his abilities. He had called the auctions, after all. No one really knew how Fairbourne’s operated, and who possessed what expertise in which area, when you got down to it.
    Well, one person might know, she admitted ruefully. Southwaite might be aware of who knew what among the staff. He also possessed sufficient expertise of his own to spot a charlatan posing as a connoisseur.
    She would have to prevent his visiting Fairbourne’s again, if she could. With any luck he would remain too busy with whatever he did in Kent to much bother with them.
    *     *     *
    “H e proposed,” Emma said that afternoon, concluding her description of her unpleasant meeting with Mr. Nightingale after the auction.
    Cassandra’s blue eyes grew wide. The very dark lashes that rimmed those eyes gave additional drama to her surprise. So did the small parting of her full red lips.
    Emma had seen the effect Cassandra’s expressions of astonishment had on men. She wondered if they responded because it made her appear like an innocent, bewildered girl, when in fact she had not been anything of the sort for some years now.
    “Did he profess love?” Cassandra angled closer, very interested in the story now.
    “He tried. Imagine a voice droning like a fly’s buzz, speaking the predictable words with the enthusiasm reserved for memorized school lessons. I stopped him and insisted we not pretend more sentiment than either of us has ever felt.”
    Emma lifted one of the necklaces laid out on velvet cloths on her dining room table and inspected it while she finished her tale. “All that was left after that was the most dreary and practical of offers. He finally threatened to leave his situation at Fairbourne’s if I did not marry him.”
    Sympathy softened Cassandra’s gaze. “Mr. Nightingale is very handsome. He cuts a good figure, and has an ease of manner with society. He probably thought his proposal would be welcomed.”
    “Welcomed? You underestimate his conceit. He assumed that I would
swoon
at such a catch, and count myself a lucky spinster, although I never gave him