Barbara Cartland A Frame of Dreams (pdf)

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There was a frown on his forehead as he walked upstairs, but he found nothing of
value in any of the other rooms.
The whole place was furnished with good taste but the Marquis knew that the
"break-up" value of the contents was little more than a few pounds.
He stood for a moment in Vanessa's small bed-room, and the white frill of the bed
which matched the curtains and the frilled skirt of the dressing-table made him
remember how exquisite she had looked the ni ght before in her white evening-gown.
It was at that moment that he began to feel afraid that he might never find her again,
and he had gone from the house knowing that the only clue to her whereabouts might be
the picture of her mother.
He discovered it himself a week later. After visiting personally practically every Art
Dealer in London, he saw the picture in a small shop in the city.
The dealer was only too willing to give the Marquis any information he required.
"Yes, I knew the late lamented Mr. Cornelius Lens, M'Lord. He was an excellent
Artist and I've handled a number of his miniatures in my time."
"That is a picture of Mrs. Lens," the Marquis said, pointing to the portrait that had
been hung on a wall beside two excruciatingly badly executed water-colours of the
Thames.
"Yes, indeed, M'Lord," the Dealer agreed. "A beautiful ladyl I've often said to my
wife: 'If Mrs. Lens had gone out into society like other Artists' wives, she would have
caused a sensation!' but then she lived a very quiet life."
"The portrait was brought here by Miss Vanessa Lens. I am anxious to get in touch
with her," the Marquis said. "Can you tell me her address?"
"She will be at her father's house in Islington, M'Lord."
"No, she is not there," the Marquis answered.
"Then I've no idea where she could be, M'Lord," the Dealer said. "She came in here
two days ago with the picture."
"What did you give her for it?" the Marquis asked.
He saw the man hesitate and said sharply:
"I want the truth!"
"Eight guineas, M'Lord."
"Do you think that is all it is worth?"
"I doubt if I'll get more than twenty for it," the Dealer replied, "and I might have it on
my hands for a long time. Cornelius Lens was well known for his miniatures, M'Lord.
Those I can sell, but portraits of that sort are not in great demand."
"Did Miss Lens offer you anything else?" the Marquis asked.
"She had two framed drawings with her," the Dealer answered. "Not at all saleable,
M'Lord; I bought them really out of charity."
"Let me see them," the Marquis ordered.
He realised when he looked at the drawings that lliey were extremely attractive
sketches of Italian sculptures and he guessed that Cornelius Lens must have done them
when he was abroad.
"How much did you pay for them?" he asked.
"Two guineas, M'Lord," the Dealer replied apologetically.
That meant, the Marquis thought, that Vanessa had only ten guineas with which to
support herself and Dorcas, wherever they might be hiding.
He remembered only too vividly how she had admitted being worried about money,
but had felt reassured by the fact that she had the Prince's miniatures and his own to
work on.
Now the Marquis cursed himself for not having l>aid her for the work she had done.
But he had been sure in his own mind that by the time she left Ruckford Park she would
never have to worry about money again.
Ten pounds, ten shillings!
It was little enough, but he told himself optimistically that she would not have
starved by the time he found her.
The Marquis bought the portrait of Mrs. Lens and the sketches from the Dealer,
giving him the sums lie asked on condition he promised to get in touch with him should
Vanessa come into the shop again.
"You quite understand," he said authoritatively, "that if Miss Lens bring you
anything to sell you are to buy it for a large sum, then explain that you have not so much
money on you and ask her to call back later in the day. By that time you will have been
able to send for me."
"I understand, M'Lord," the Dealer said.
He was so pleased with the sale of the pictures that he would have been prepared to
promise anything.
But the Marquis could not help feeling that sooner or later Vanessa would be obliged
to return to Islington where at least she had a roof over her head.
He arranged with the ex-Bow Street Runner that the house would be watched and
that if anyone called there he would be notified immediately.
The first few days after Vanessa's disappearance the Marquis passed in searching for
her himself, feeling optimistic that he would find her.
Then he began to grow apprehensive.
For the first time in his life he found himself worrying over a woman, not because she [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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