Chapter 7
"Let me," Florian offers, pushing Ray's hands aside and efficiently adjusting his collar. Florian runs his hands over the shoulders of Ray's tuxedo jacket, smoothing it needlessly. "There." He steps back and surveys his companion critically before giving him a nod. "Very nice."
Ray quirks a smile at him and waits for the inevitable blush. Florian doesn't disappoint. "I could say the same about you," Ray teases, knowing it will prolong the blush.
"Let's go," Florian stammers, turning to Luc to claim his coat. Thankfully Luc is used to this kind of banter and knows how to ignore it, or at least not react to it.
"We won't be too late but you don't have to wait up," Ray assures Laila who is standing nearby with Noel. He waves to the kid and waits while Florian gives the boy a hug before ushering the blond out to the carriage. Jameson is waiting for them, the horses stamping impatiently.
Florian sits across from Ray and they chat until they reach the hotel where Miranda and Agnes are waiting for them in the lobby. Florian is gracious to both of them, taking particular care to compliment Agnes on her recovered health.
They settle in the carriage and Miranda spends the short ride to the museum telling them about her plans for sightseeing at their next stop. Florian's never been to Munich and he tells her what he'd like to see if he ever gets there. He doesn't notice the looks that she and Ray exchange, nor the way Ray seems to be taking mental notes.
Florian climbs down from the carriage first, followed by Ray and they escort the ladies inside quickly to get them out of the evening chill. Agnes is still a bit pale but she assures Florian that she's fine and waves him off with Miranda to find the curator.
"Did you see what you wanted while you were in Paris?" Ray asks, more out of courtesy than because he wants an answer.
"There's never enough time to see everything," she responds, accepting the glass of punch he offers. "Every city has hidden treasures that visitors rarely see."
"Very true," Ray concedes, leading her towards the room where Florian's painting hangs. It's a large work and Ray wonders where he'll put it. He turns slightly, observing Agnes as she studies the portrait.
"Miranda has a good heart. She'd give away everything in this room if it would make someone happy - someone who knows what it's like to lose everything." She turns to Ray, glancing around to be sure that no one else is close enough to overhear. "She never does anything without a good reason."
"Many people say that," Ray replies neutrally. "But one person's good reason is another's bad reason. It's all a matter of interpretation."
"You could think of it that way," Agnes agrees easily. "But that doesn't make one person more right than the other."
"Not even if one person uses the law as a guideline."
"Even guidelines are subject to interpretation, Lord Courland. Surely you agree with that."
"Perhaps," Ray refuses to give up that easily. He signals a passing waiter and exchanges his and Agnes' empty glasses for full ones. "Shall we rescue our companions from the curator?"
"Not just yet," Agnes replies calmly, moving towards another room where a series of landscapes are arranged along a short wall opposite a line of portraits. She leads Ray to a small piece showing a cottage near a stream. "This is the first painting Miranda purchased. It was a gift for me."
Ray studies the piece with renewed interest, making a note of the artist. He wonders how this one might tie in with the missing art.
"This used to hang in my mother's morning room, just over her desk. Miranda paid an outrageous amount for it, just to salve my family's pride. Not that it did much good." Agnes turns away from the painting to study Ray closely. "I'm sure you understand."
Ray's not sure if she's referring to Florian's present state or his own past, but he nods anyway. Either way, he does understand. He's almost tempted to make a promise to her, but he needs more information, if only for his own sake.
"Perhaps you'd like a few minutes ? to study the art. I'll find Miranda and you can join us shortly?" Agnes' smile lets him know that her meaning is different from her words. He considers, then nods and smiles in return. He appreciates a challenge.
He waits for her to leave the room before walking off in the opposite direction at a leisurely pace. He catches a glimpse of Miranda and Florian standing with the curator, laughing, and is glad to know that Florian will be too distracted to look for him, at least for the short time Ray needs.
Striding out into the central gallery, Ray increases his pace, not caring that the few late arrivals are watching his rapid departure. He'll have a cover for his return, of course, but time is of the essence and he can't lose the precious minutes necessary to make a more discrete exit.
Jameson is waiting with the carriage and comes forward at his signal. The hotel is close and the streets aren't crowded. They cover the distance in minutes and stop on a side street where Ray presses money into Jameson's hand and orders him to find two bouquets and be back in ten minutes.
Entry into the hotel is easy, with no one the wiser for his arrival. Luck is with him and he reaches Miranda's suite without passing other guests or servants. The lock gives way in seconds and he slips into the room and closes the door silently.
The room is in disarray, cluttered with half-packed trunks and cases. A few gowns are draped over furniture and an assortment of books and personal items litter the desk and coffee table.
Ray quickly examines the trunks, finding a few places that might conceal the stolen paintings, but they are disappointingly empty. The cases prove as unhelpful. He's wondering if he'll have to leave without confirming his suspicions when he accidentally brushes against one of the gowns draped across the sofa. Ray catches it before it falls and he frowns at the unexpected weight.
He notes how stiff and almost inflexible the skirt is and takes a look at the underskirt and hem, finding nothing unusual. With a frown he looks closer and finds a line of hand-sewn stitches along the hem. He feels the material, tracing the stitches and discovers a rectangle that covers most of the front of the underskirt. A check of a second dress, and then several already in the case reveal similar stitches and stiffness.
With a smile he carefully replaces each of the gowns and surveys the room one last time. Listening carefully at the door he slips out of the room and trips the lock, testing to make sure it is secure.
He's out of the hotel and back in the carriage just as Jameson returns with the requested bouquets. He returns to the museum and sweeps up the steps with a genuine smile for the ladies and his Amethyst.
"Madame Harrison," he presents the bouquet with a flourish and a half bow, waiting for her to accept the lavish arrangement before looking around for Agnes and Florian.
"You spoil me, Count. I'm afraid I'll miss this after tonight. Germany will hardly compare to Paris and your company."
"Germany has surprises as well, m'lady. I'm sure you remember from your previous visit."
"I do," she concedes with a smile, draping the bouquet across her arm to support it. "It's more peaceful there, unlike Paris, which never seems to sleep."
"Paris has its peaceful places, like this museum." Ray looks around again and frowns when neither Agnes nor Florian are nearby. "Have we lost our companions? I was hoping Agnes would accept a small token as well."
"Unfortunately you've missed her. She was quite tired and Florian agreed to escort her back to the hotel. He thought he might stay with her for a while then return home. He was concerned that you might have been bored and already left.
Ray frowns, unhappy with this turn of events and reluctant to believe that Florian would think him crude enough to leave without a proper goodbye. More likely he thought he was giving Ray an excuse to escape the tedium of this social event.
"Well then, perhaps you would permit me to be your escort in his absence? We had an arrangement after all."
"I would be delighted, Count Courland. Please, if you will permit me a moment to tend these flowers properly." Miranda excuses herself, carrying both bouquets to a nearby servant and requesting a vase. The servant accepts the bundles of flowers and hurries off to comply, promising to leave them on the reception table for everyone to enjoy.
"Shall we circulate? There are a few guests I haven't spoken to yet and I'd like to show you my favorite pieces in this collection."
Ray offers her his arm and allows Miranda to lead them both towards an older woman and her attendant.
XXXXX
"That's all, Jameson," Ray waves the man off towards the carriage house to put away the carriage and tend the horses. Jameson's rooms are on the top floor of the carriage house so Ray bids him good night before heading towards the main house. It is dark except for a dim light in the foyer. A glance up shows that the curtains are drawn in Florian's room. Just as well, he supposes. Ray will talk to him in the morning.
Stifling a yawn, Ray enters the house quietly. He douses the light in the foyer and locks the door, tossing his coat and hat carelessly onto the coat tree to be brushed and tended by Luc in the morning. He brushes aside the idea of a bedtime snack and heads upstairs, worn out from the hours of polite conversations and forced civility. Thank goodness that was the end of the arrangement with Florian's art thief. He'll be glad when she and her accomplice are out of the city.
Although he has to admit some grudging respect for the both of them. He wonders if they'd actually stolen some of those paintings during the parties, like the reception for the Spanish Ambassador.
Nearing Florian's bedroom, Ray hesitates, then quietly opens the door, telling himself he's making sure his blond had taken the time to properly tend his tuxedo. Florian has a tendency to leave his clothing scattered, especially when he is tired.
Ray is already planning how he will tease Florian when he realizes that the bed is empty. Quickly turning on the electric lights he hates, but everyone else in the house insisted on, Ray surveys the empty room, noting that the bed is neatly made and the wardrobe is standing open, the two dress shirts Ray had rejected re-hung neatly in their proper places. At least Florian is getting better about that. But, damnit! Ray knew he should have insisted on accompanying Miranda up to her hotel room.
With a sudden sense of dread, Ray races downstairs and into his study, slapping on the lights and heading towards the safe without hesitation. Everything seems to be in its proper place but Ray has a terrible, sinking feeling and quickly dials through the combination. Throwing open the safe door he knows immediately that something's missing.
Damn it!
The black velvet pouch that held Heart's Blood is flat and a lavender scented card is in the jewel's place. Turning it over he finds a message written in a delicate hand. "To ensure your silence, I've borrowed both your treasures."
Grabbing his coat, Ray hurries to the garage and starts the car. He ignores Jameson's worried call and races off towards the hotel as fast as the car can go. Taking the side entrance again, he makes his way as quickly and quietly as he can, not wanting to explain his presence or why he's visiting the ladies at this time of night.
Unlike a few hours earlier, the suite is orderly, and empty, with no trace of the ladies or their belongings. And no trace of Florian.
Ray storms through the rooms, his anger and distress building as he tries to decide where to look next. He almost misses the small fold of lavender paper resting on Miranda's bed.
"Good try. Treasures should always be kept where they will be most appreciated."
Crumpling the paper in his fist, Ray closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to try and calm himself. He takes one last survey of the rooms, then manages to get back to his car without being seen. He considers his options, the train station, private car rental, even the museum but none of them make sense. The women can't take Florian with them without facing too many questions, yet where could he be?
With a growl of frustration, Ray realizes what the message means. Damn women, all of them, but especially ones that are too smart for their own good!
He slams the car into gear and heads towards home, both hopeful and fearful of what he might find. He parks the car carelessly and waves off Jameson who is trying to understand what his boss is up to. Stomping into the house, Ray throws his coat aside carelessly and storms upstairs, not caring if he wakes the whole house.
Thankfully, his employees are sound sleepers, as is the blond laying stretched out on Ray's bed, still in his tuxedo, but with jacket and shoes off. Heart's Blood shines against Florian's black tie.
"Get up," Ray demands, prodding at the unresponsive man. Florian continues to sleep. "Hey!" Ray pulls at Florian's arm. No response.
Realizing that something is wrong, Ray looks closer, checking Florian's pulse and lifting his eyelids. Florian remains deeply asleep, his breathing slow and steady.
Drugged, Ray concludes, giving up on moving the blond. He's carried Florian before, but he doesn't have the energy to carry him now. Ray is too relieved to do anything more than drop down onto the bed beside the sleeping man. He smoothes Florian's hair away from his face and carefully unpins Heart's Blood, setting it on the nightstand without a thought. Next is the tie and the expensive shirt, leaving Florian in his plain undershirt. The pants are a slight dilemma but practicality finally wins and Ray removes them as well, leaving only the silk undergarment.
He unfolds the quilt at the foot of the bed and covers his sleeping Amethyst before deciding what to do next. Now that the adrenalin is wearing off Ray is exhausted and the thought of sleeping in Florian's narrow bed instead of his usual large and comfortable one is not appealing. Quickly changing into his nightclothes, Ray shoves the blond to one side and climbs in beside him. Without knowing what drug he's been given it is probably best he stay close anyway.
He'll deal with everything else in the morning.