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Clenching her fists, she tried to gather her scattered thoughts. She must tell someone. Lord Southbeck needed to know, and if she acted now, it could be the proof Henry needed to convict Mr. Fernsby of the crime he alone had witnessed. She eyed the door to the meeting room. The butler was gone, but he’d sent a footman to watch over Aunt Millward and her. The young man was unlikely to be quite as attentive as his superior, but he had yet to leave his post at the other end of the passage.

Forcing herself to keep her pace even, she retraced her steps until she reached Aunt Millward. Turning her back to the footman, she lowered her head slightly. “I need a distraction,” she whispered.

“Yes, dear. We both do.”

“No, I mean I need you to create a distraction.”

Aunt Millward’s head jerked up. “Why?”

“I’ve just discovered something that will enable Henry to prove that Mr. Fernsby has been copying the paintings in the museum.”

The older lady’s eyes widened, and the peacock feathers bounced. “On Lord Southbeck’s wall?”

Emily nodded.

“Dear heaven.” Aunt Millward placed her hand on her heart. “The gentleman takes great pride in his art collection. He will be devastated.”

“Yes, but he will be more devastated if Mr. Fernsby gets away with what he has done.” The rumble of voices continued from behind the closed door. “I must tell him immediately.”

“Indeed, you must.” Now that she had something useful to do, Aunt Millward had perked up considerably. “You shall have your distraction. I am uncommonly good at those.” Rising to her feet, she started toward the footman. “Excuse me, young man.”

The startled footman bowed. “Yes, my lady.”

“I find that I am in desperate need of some air.” She swayed a little dramatically and reached for the footman’s arm. “Would you be so good as to guide me to the nearest exit?”

“Of course, my lady.” His concern was obvious, and Emily might have felt truly sorry for him had she not known that Aunt Millward would treat him kindly. Besides which, Emily was desperate.

She waited only until Aunt Millward and the footman were facing the other way, then she took ahold of the door handle. Turning it, she eased open the door, stepped inside, and closed it softly behind her.

Chapter 28

Henry tugged his sleeves back into place and glanced at Fernsby. The mood in the room had changed after Lord Brooks had asked to see Henry’s wrists. Fernsby now had tiny beads of perspiration running across his brow, and his eyes kept darting between the door to the passage and the french doors leading to the garden.

“So let me be clear,” Lord Southbeck said. “You claim that what you witnessed last night was not the first time Fernsby has replaced a painting in the museum? That he has been producing counterfeit paintings for some time?”

“Yes, my lord.” Henry said.

“Can you prove that?”

“Yes, he can.”

At the sound of Emily’s voice, the eyes of every gentleman in the room turned on her.

“Who are you, and what the blazes are you doing in here?” Lord Claridge bellowed.

Henry instinctively stepped closer to her, but she did not waver.

“My name is Miss Norton, and I am here with Mr. Buckland, Mr. Townsend, and Lady Millward. Lord Southbeck’s butler insisted that Lady Millward and I wait outside while you gentlemen discuss Mr. Fernsby’s recent activities.”

“Which is exactly where you should be now,” Hibbard growled.

Henry stiffened, attempting to control his mounting anger. “I believe an apology is in order, sir. I don’t care what you think of me or my claims, but to speak to Miss Norton like that was completely out of line. The same goes for you, Claridge.”

“He’s absolutely right,” Southbeck said firmly. “It’s not done. Especially whilst you’re guests in my house.”

Claridge flushed at the reproof. “You have my apologies, Miss Norton.”

“And mine,” Hibbard mumbled, looking far less contrite.