CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Mary Elizabeth St. Valary," whispered Daphne. "That's my mother's name." She stared at Lady Bishop, who was glaring at the auction house employee.

"I told you that this painting should not be in the collection. Did I not tell you this?" she ground out.

"You did, Lady Bishop, but it's one of the best in the collection. I did what I felt was right for the charity. It does resemble your daughter, however."

"It's identical to her," said Brix. "Can you explain that, Lady Bishop?"

"It's purely coincidental," she said, waving it off. "Don't get caught up in the daydreams, Daphne. You're going to find yourself going down a rabbit hole. Take the painting down."

"No," said Brix.

"Young man, this is my home and my event. Take the painting down," she repeated to the auction house employee.

"No," said Tiger, turning to the woman. "I'd like to purchase this painting."

Lady Bishop scoffed at him, then laughed, shaking her head. Tiger glared at the woman, then turned back to the woman from the auction house, nodding.

"I'll set it aside, sir. The price is four hundred and fifty thousand pounds." Lady Bishop smirked at him as if to say, ‘you can't afford this.'

"Would you like cash, check, or credit card?" grinned Tiger.

"Any of those are fine, sir."

"You can't be serious!" yelled Lady Bishop. "No! No, he cannot buy that painting!"

"I'm sorry, Lady Bishop, but you don't get to tell the auction house what can or cannot be sold. These items are for purchase or bid. The gentleman is buying at asking price. It now belongs to him."

"Please have it delivered to our accommodations," said Tiger with an air of superiority.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Daphne, but it will not end well for you," said her mother.

"Ah, there's my wife," smirked Marshall.

Brix stepped forward, planting a fist into the face of Marshall. The man fell backwards, his nose bleeding all over the fine Persian rugs and his tuxedo shirt.

"How dare you!" yelled Lady Bishop. "Call the authorities!"

"Yes, please do," smiled Brix. "As you recall, he'll be arrested for violating his restraining order and harassing my wife. That news should do great things for your reputation. After all, you allowed a wife-beater, rapist, and cheater to enter your home and approach your daughter. But please, go ahead and call the authorities."

"NO!" said Marshall, standing quickly, holding his handkerchief to his nose. "No. It's fine. I'm fine."

"I knew your American friends would cause a scene," ground out her mother.

"It appears that you're causing the scene, Deirdre," said Duchess Stewart, staring at the spectacle. "I've watched this entire episode and must say, I'm appalled by your behavior, Lady Bishop. This fine man has just bought a very expensive piece of art. A contribution that will provide a great many things for the charity."

"What? No. No, you don't understand."

"I do understand," she smiled. Gabi, Elena, and Hazel stood behind the woman. "I've had the opportunity to have a lovely conversation with these brilliant women. You haven't exactly been a gracious hostess. I've invited them to my estate for luncheon tomorrow. I should very much like to hear what they have to say."

"You can't be serious," she whispered. "They're horrible people!"

"You always were a poor judge of character," said the woman. "Ladies. Gentlemen. I'll see you tomorrow. Daphne, I look forward to catching up with you. You appear happy and look radiant, darling."

"Of course," she smiled. Daphne noticed her father standing nearby and waited to see if he would say anything. Finally, stepping forward, he looked at his wife and then back at Marshall.

"Get off my property," he said to the still-bleeding man. "Get off my land, get out of my home, and do not return."

"It's my home as well," said Lady Bishop.

"No, Deirdre. It is not. It's my home. Mine alone. And my statement applies to you as well. Pack your things and leave. I'll have my attorney contact you with the arrangements for our divorce."

Dierdre was so flabbergasted, at such a loss for words, she couldn't speak. Storming upstairs in a very unladylike manner, they all heard the door slam and grinned.

"This still doesn't tell me who Mary Elizabeth St. Valary was or is," said Daphne.

"I believe I can help with that," smiled the auction house employee. "My name is Anna Hall. I'm in charge of portraits at the house. When I saw this, I knew it was you."

"How?"

"I've seen you many times," smiled the woman. "The history of the painting speaks for itself. Mr. and Mrs. St. Valary, with their daughter, were on the Costina when it sank. She sat for that portrait less than two months before their departure.

"Heartbroken at the loss of their daughter, they returned to their chateau in France and removed themselves from the public eye."

"Wait, are they still alive?" asked Brix.

"I'm not sure," said Anna. "They've not been seen since the accident and withdrew from their involvement in the Lightkeepers. Their chateau can be found near Amiens. If they're alive, that's where they'll be."

"Anna, do you know anything about Lady Bishop?" asked Zulu.

"Not much. I know that she is a social climber, and, my apologies, Daphne, she married your father knowing that he would be highly successful and already possessed a Lordship."

"We need to go to France," said Daphne. "I have to see these people." Brix kissed his wife, smiling down at her.

"Then we're going to France."

"Now what?" asked Marshall, wiping his nose.

"You fool! You were to ensure that painting was destroyed!" yelled Dierdre.

"And just how was I supposed to do that? It was under guard. I had no idea they were going to bring it here. Don't blame me because your little plan is falling apart, Deirdre."

"I've got to talk some sense into Randolph. He's not acting rationally, and I have to get him to see that this was all a misunderstanding. I need to stay with you until all this blows over," she said casually.

"No. No, you can't do that. It would be highly suspicious, and everyone would be whispering about our relationship. I can't have you in my home after everyone saw this episode." She laughed, tilting her head back.

"Oh, that's good. A relationship. With you? I think not, Marshall. Fine. I'll stay at the St. Regis in London. Take me there. I need to rethink everything. Everything."