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some kind of new gallery. I personally would have taken all those dreadful family portraits down and used the present gallery, but you know how tradition minded he was. He said one day these would be worth ten times what he’d paid for them. Thank goodness they were tucked away. Out of sight, out of mind and therefore out of reach of the tax man.’
    Rupert looked at Sonia with something like despair. Did she really not understand? ‘Sonia, when people sell paintings, there’s a little thing called provenance.’
    ‘That won’t bother Oliver. He knows if paintings are genuine or not, and as long as he’s sure they are, the kind of collectors that he sells to aren’t that fussy.’ She gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Anyhow, didn’t you have something to do with those paintings? I seem to remember Selchester saying you put him in the way of acquiring them. You’d never have dared do that if you weren’t sure they were pukka.’
    ‘Wrong, my darling; I’ve never been a picture dealer.’
    ‘Of course not, that would be quite beneath you. Anyhow, if need be, and if any of his clients ask awkward questions, Oliver will just have to a do a bit of research. That’s what he has to do at Morville’s in any case.’
    Rupert was thinking swiftly. It was a damn nuisance this lost heir popping up from nowhere. Sonia didn’t care, but if the new Lord Selchester came across the pictures or Sonia didn’t convince him they were hers, it could spell trouble. Oliver Seynton might prove useful, but could he be trusted?
    ‘Tell you what, Sonia, why don’t I come to Selchester with you?’
    Sonia eyes widened in surprise. ‘You always go to the Westerhams for Christmas.’
    ‘It’s time for a change.’
    Sonia said, ‘It’s all very well my accepting Gus’s open invitation, and Oliver will be there for professional reasons, but I don’t know that I can just invite you out of the blue. You don’t know Gus.’
    Rupert said, ‘I knew his father. I’ll be a welcome guest. I know what, tell him we’re engaged. I did once ask you to marry me.’
    ‘Yes, you did. After Tom died, when I was going to inherit the Castle and all that lovely money and land and so on. Oh, happy days! Then time passed and I don’t remember you mentioning it again.’
    ‘A man has his pride. You didn’t exactly leap to accept my offer.’
    ‘I don’t want to marry you, that’s why.’
    ‘Your half-brother doesn’t have to know that. If I come with you as what he no doubt would call your fiancé, he’ll welcome me with open arms. How can he do otherwise? Besides, Americans have such perfect manners, he won’t turn me away from his ancestral doors.’
    Sonia hummed a few bars of the Wedding March . ‘It’s not such a bad idea. It’s going to be a bore, a family Christmas. More fun if you’re there. And you’ll charm them, as you do everyone. They’ll adore you.’
    ‘If it’s such a bore, don’t go. Come to the Westerhams with me.’
    Sonia’s face took on a closed look. ‘No. It isn’t just those paintings. There are various other things of mine there that I want.’
    Deliberately casual, Rupert said, ‘Did Selchester’s notebook ever turn up?’
    Sonia was suddenly alert. ‘Notebook? What are you talking about?’
    Rupert said, ‘Selchester had a notebook. He called it his little black book, you know, like the one Thurloe had to keep him safe when Charles was restored.’
    Sonia stared at him. She said sharply, ‘What on earth are you talking about? Charles? Restored? He’s dead.’
    It was easy to forget just how ill-educated Sonia was. ‘Of course he’s dead. King Charles II, my love, he died a long time ago. Thurloe was in charge of intelligence during Oliver Cromwell’s time. You know about Oliver Cromwell? Puritan England?’
    ‘Of course I do. That Charles; I know about him. He hid up an oak tree. Dark days for the Selchesters; they kept having to bundle Jesuits into the attics. Then he came to the throne anyhow