“I imagine it is,” I said, wondering where this was leading.
“As is formality, we announced that Lord Percival Ardmillan passed peacefully in his sleep, but the truth is that he was a tyrant until his last breath,” Euan admitted. “It was ghastly…his passing.”
“You were with him?” I queried.
Euan opened his eyes and sat up to address me.
“Dr. Sinclair was tending to him and asked me to step outside for a moment. I did so, and then I heard the Doctor cry out. I returned to the room to see my father half out of the bed, his hands wrapped around the throat of Dr. Sinclair, begging him for a tincture to cure his ills. My father had his fingers clasping the man’s neck, suffocating him as he was taken, and in the death throes his hands went rigid.” My hand shot up to cover my mouth. I was horrified to hear this tale.
“I had to break his bony fingers to get them off the Doctor’s throat so he didn’t drag the poor man to hell with him.”
“Oh, my goodness. That is… appalling. God rest his soul.” I made the sign of the cross.
“Where he’s gone, God will never meet him,” Euan said morosely. “Now, all I have is forty thousand acres of barren hills, this huge drafty house filled with the spoils of his raping, and pillaging his way around the colonies—and of course, thousands of pounds of debt and death duties.“ Euan grumbled. “I don’t want any of it.”
It was clear to me that Euan detested his father. He sounded repulsed by his inheritance, and I thought, not a little ungrateful.
The man I knew at university had at first stolen my attention not only because of his good looks, or because we shared rooms. Euan displayed a social conscience and told me he wished to use his station for good. I admired that very much. He was on the boards of several charities and told me he had donated his own money. It was a very virtuous act and so even though he had cut me loose so long ago, admiration still burned like hot coals in my heart.
“I had an ulterior motive for inviting you Ben,” Euan admitted. My brows rose with curiosity.
“I would be interested in engaging Hannan’s to sell some of the art collection. The walls in this place are crumbling from the weight of canvases and if I don’t get rid of half of the art there won’t be a house left to hang the canvases in!”
I could see that nearly every inch of wall displayed something, from mounted hunting trophies to military regalia, swords, shields, tapestries, and framed canvases. It was quite the treasure trove.
“I’d be honored.” I brightened. It would be quite a coup to have Lord Ardmillan’s art collection for sale in my auction house. The cream of London society would flock to viewing days and to the sale for sure.
“Do you have an inventory prepared or should I make a list while I’m here?”
“Yes, I have selected the canvases that need to go—forty in total, several old masters. I will give you the details later and we can arrange shipment to your London premises where they can be appraised, yes?” Euan smiled, appearing very pleased with himself.
“Oh yes! Very good, very good.” I returned enthusiastically. I knew that the Ardmillan Estate had some very valuable work by Italian Renaissance artists. Euan grinned at me and I felt warmth flood through to my fingertips—a heat that was not caused by the open fire! It was a most welcome feeling to be back on level ground with my old best friend. I’d missed him, not that I would ever tell him that.
Euan moved to the edge of his seat and looked at me earnestly. “I know years have passed and you have moved on, but I’ve been thinking about you—” I was startled by his directness and the change of subject.
“I understand I was beastly to you when our… friendship ended. I truly am sorry. I was such a fool to cut you out of my life.”
Sweat beaded my brow and I was tongue-tied at hearing the apology I never thought I would get. I had been so broken by Euan ending our affair, cutting me off so swiftly that it felt like I’d lost a limb. To try and forget I’d poured myself into my other passion—collecting. It had, in turn, given me a good life full of beautiful artifacts, a London townhouse, and my own business premises. I was well-off, respected, and connected to the kinds of men who could afford the art and antiquities I sold. Although the apology was welcome I did not know what to do with it. Time had taught me that, no matter how painful, parting from Euan had been for the best. Society was still reeling from the trial of dear Oscar Wilde who was imprisoned for his affair with Lord Alfred Douglas. It was a dark time for all who harbored a preference for men as bedfellows, and even though I believed none in fashionable society knew of my sinfulness, I felt the weight of shame and prayed nightly for forgiveness. I was grateful that the Good Lord had seen fit to provide me with a fulfilling livelihood even though I did not have a companion to share it with.
“I need you to understand what happened between us.” Euan continued, making me feel distinctly uncomfortable. I had heard loss made a man reconsider his life and I supposed Euan had taken the time to
