The Art of Deception

“We have to let it lie for a while longer.”
    “What do you mean, let it lie?”
    “I’ll speak to Papa—tell him what happened in my own way, so that he doesn’t overreact. Harriet and Melanie are coming to dinner tonight. It has to wait until tomorrow.”
    “How can he sit down and have dinner with Harriet when he has stolen something from her?” Adam demanded. “How can he do something like this to a friend?”
    Pain shot into her eyes. Deliberately she lowered them, but he’d already seen it. “I don’t know.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She shook her head. “No, you have no reason to be. You’ve been wonderful through all of this.”
    “No, I haven’t.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.
    “Let me be the judge of that. And give me one more day.” She touched his wrists and waited until he lowered his hands. “Just one more day, then I’ll talk to Papa. Maybe we’ll get everything straightened out.”
    “That much, Kirby. No more.” He had some thinking of his own to do. Perhaps one more night would give him some answers. “Tomorrow you tell Philip everything, no glossing over the details. If he doesn’t agree to resolve the Rembrandt business then, I’m taking over.”
    She hesitated a minute. She’d said she trusted him. It was true. “All right.”
    “And I’ll deal with Hiller.”
    “You’re not going to fight with him.”
    Amused, he lifted a brow. “No?”
    “Adam, I won’t have you bruised and bloodied. That’s it.”

    “Your confidence in me is overwhelming.”
    With a laugh, she sat up again and threw her arms around him. “My hero. He’d never lay a hand on you.”
    “I beg your pardon, Miss Fairchild.”
    “Yes, Cards.” Shifting her head, Kirby acknowledged the butler in the doorway.
    “It seems a chair has somehow found its way through your studio window. Unfortunately, it landed in Jamie’s bed of zinnias.”
    “Yes, I know. I suppose he’s quite annoyed.”
    “Indeed, miss.”
    “I’ll apologize, Cards. Perhaps a new lawn mower… You’ll see to having the window repaired?”
    “Yes, miss.”
    “And have that heater replaced by something from the twentieth-century,” Adam added. He watched as Cards glanced at him then back at Kirby.
    “As soon as possible, please, Cards.”
    With a nod, the butler backed out of the doorway.
    “He takes his orders from you, doesn’t he?” Adam commented as the quiet footsteps receded. “I’ve seen the subtle nods and looks between the two of you.”
    She brushed a smudge of dirt on the shoulder of his shirt. “I’ve no idea what you mean.”
    “A century ago, Cards would’ve been known as the queen’s man.” When she laughed at the term, he eased her back on the pillows. “Rest,” he ordered.
    “Adam, I’m fine.”
    “Want me to get tough again?” Before she could answer, he covered her mouth with his, lingering. “Turn the batteries down awhile,” he murmured. “I might have to call the doctor after all.”
    “Blackmail.” She brought his mouth back to hers again. “But maybe if you rested with me…”

    “Rest isn’t what would happen then.” He drew away as she grumbled a protest.
    “A half hour.”
    “Fine. I’ll be back.”
    She smiled and let her eyes close. “I’ll be waiting.”
     
    It was too soon for stars, too late for sunbeams. From a window in the parlor, Adam watched the sunset hold off twilight just a few moments longer.
    After reporting the attempt on Kirby’s life to McIntyre, he’d found himself suddenly weary. Half lies, half truths. It had to end. It would end, he decided, tomorrow. Fairchild would have to see reason, and Kirby would be told everything. The hell with McIntyre, the job and anything else. She deserved honesty along with everything else he wanted to give her. Everything else, he realized, would mean nothing to Kirby without it.
    The sun lowered further and the horizon exploded with rose-gold light. He thought of the Titian woman. She’d understand, he told himself. She had to understand. He’d make her understand. Thinking to check on her again, Adam turned from the window.
    When he reached her room, he heard the sound of running water. The simple, natural sound of her humming along with her bath dissolved his tension. He thought about joining her, then remembered how pale and tired she’d looked. Another time, he promised both of them as he shut the door to her room again. Another time he’d have the pleasure of lounging in the