Christine Merrill – A Kiss Away From Scandal (страница 11)

The proprietors of the earlier shops would have been horrified at the idea of matching art to the wall colour. But it must not have been an unusual request here, for the dealer announced that he kept the paintings sorted by colour. Then he led them to a dark and crowded corner of the shop where heavy gilt frames were stacked in precarious piles.

Mr Drake glanced at her expectantly. ‘Did your grandmother say anything about the size of the painting?’

She shook her head. ‘I doubt it was a miniature. But it could not have been very large, or I’d have noticed a blank spot on the wall.’

‘We shall start in the middle, then.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they will be easier to lift,’ he said, heaving a pile of paintings down from a high shelf with a grunt. They slid to the floor, raising a cloud of dust.

Hope tipped them forward, one by one, to look at the canvases. As she did so, he turned towards another shelf, pulling down more paintings, just as heavy and just as dirty.

The collected art was random, the only common denominator being colour. There were landscapes by moonlight, seascapes, a still life of berries, studies of birds, and portraits of blue-clad men and women in velvets, satins and...

She stared at the painting in front of her for only a moment, before averting her eyes in shock. Then she glanced back to be sure of its subject before calling to Mr Drake.

‘I have found the painting.’

‘Excellent. Let me summon the proprietor.’

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