The Ladies of the Secret Circus Constance Sayers (e books free to read .TXT) 📖

him to the edge of the porch, both wanting him to go so she could be alone to process each detail from tonight and yet not wanting him to leave, because she truly loved his company. “I had a lovely time with you tonight,” she said. “I really did. It’s just going to take me some time.”

He took her hand and drew her near.

“Don’t give up on me,” she whispered. It had been so long since she’d touched anyone like this. “I get butterflies whenever I see you.”

“And I with you.” He kissed her softly on the side of her head, near her temple.

As he walked down the steps, Lara touched her neck, feeling it flushed, then placed her hand near her hairline.

No one had ever kissed her on her temple.

She watched him walk until he’d passed the Miltons’ hedge. A few hours earlier and he might have crossed paths with Althacazur on the same street. Ben lingered near the hedge like he was going to turn around but seemed to change his mind, and then, he was gone.

Lara wasn’t surprised to find Audrey on her doorstep the next morning. She’d watched her mother’s face through dinner as Gaston discussed the painting and spoke of taking it to Paris to be evaluated by the historian. By the end of the dinner, she’d looked distracted and tense, tugging on her hair and adjusting a pretend crick in her neck.

She plowed through the door holding a paper grocery bag with a baguette sticking out of it. The groceries were a ruse, of course, her mother’s way of easing into conversation over almond croissants and coffee. Hugo, Oddjob, and Moneypenny all came scampering leashless behind her, their nails clicking and sliding on the wood floors. Lara thought she heard one of them, likely Hugo because he always had to be first at everything, lose his footing on the newly polished wood and slide into the wall.

Lara followed her through the foyer and into the kitchen. Hers was an old kitchen that likely held a lot of memories of lavish parties in the 1920s and ’40s. At the entrance to the kitchen was a door with a transom window, which Lara kept propped open, a throwback to the time when the house had a kitchen staff and no air-conditioning. Well, the house still didn’t have air-conditioning, but the kitchen staff was long gone. The wood cabinets were dramatic floor-to-ceiling, with secret nooks like bread drawers and flour bins. Having the cabinets repainted a color called “limestone” had been one of her few splurges, along with replacing the old countertops with granite as well as updating the cabinet hardware and lighting. This was one of the finished rooms that gave Lara hope that the rest of the house could look glorious again. After refilling the water bowls, she placed them in front of the dogs, but they looked up like they expected more.

“Haven’t you fed them?” The three were a perfect group of beggars.

“Of course I have,” said Audrey, rustling through bags. “They know you harbor biscuits.”

Lara opened the flour bin and pulled out the dog biscuits. They chomped loudly before settling to sun themselves in the bright morning sunlight streaming through the open windows.

“They had the most wonderful cherries at the farmers market today.” Her mother placed various paper containers on the kitchen island that Lara had built herself. “I’m thinking pie.”

“What did you think of the gala last night?”

Audrey looked around. “Well, I wondered if I might find Ben Archer still here this morning.”

“No,” she said, blushing. Lara walked over to the refrigerator and pulled open the door, grabbing half-and-half.

“So, this little idea of Gaston’s is nuts. You aren’t actually thinking of going to Paris, are you?” Audrey braced herself dramatically on the island. “That painting is worthless, Lara. I mean, I was going to tell him myself, but…”

There was a long silence while Lara poured two cups of coffee and slid one across the counter to her mother, like the last offering of peace before battle.

“But you decided to start with me, instead.” Lara took a sip of her coffee. The brew was a little hot and she put it down on the counter to let it cool. “I am planning on going to Paris. If that painting is valuable, then a representative from the family should be there with it. Don’t you think? Plus, I still have an airline ticket from my honeymoon that I need to use before October. The stars are aligning.”

“Well, frankly, I’m concerned about you going to Paris.”

“Why would you be concerned?” Lara laughed. “I’m thirty years old.”

“It’s not safe.”

In the months since Todd disappeared, Lara continued to harbor suspicions that her mother knew more than she was telling. Now those suspicions were beginning to feel confirmed. “That painting could be worth millions.”

“Or it’s worthless.” Audrey dismissed Lara with her hand.

“Gaston doesn’t think so and he’s an art expert.”

“Then I’ll go to Paris with Gaston, not you.”

Lara inhaled, putting her hand on her hip and straightening her body. She decided the best approach was to say nothing.

After a good minute of silence, her mother finally spoke. “Say something.”

Lara shrugged. “I have nothing to add. As much as it pains me to tell you, Mother, you’ve kept things from me.” Her mother began to protest, but Lara put her hand up to stop her. “You’ll deny it, of course, but we both know it. I’m going to Paris. End of discussion. If this is about Gaston, I don’t need him to go with me. I can meet with Edward Binghampton Barrow the Fourth myself. It’s our family’s painting.”

Audrey’s nostrils flared. “What on earth have I kept from you? I… I told you that I don’t know—”

“Nothing,” said Lara, cutting her mother off sharply. “You’ve told me nothing.”

“Because there is nothing to tell, Lara,” said Audrey, taking a drink of her coffee, then setting the cup down on the counter with a thud.