to put on your motive.â
Had I never before met Sebastian, I would have been taken in by the perfectly poignant look of remorse on his face. His eyes, half-closed and heavy-lidded, drooped. His lips pressed together. He wrung his hands. âAny amends I attempt to make would not be enough. Not even a decent beginning.â
âYouâre right on that count,â Colin said.
With a beautifully elegant and dramatic flair, Sebastian whisked a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to his brow. âMotive may be irrelevant, but I assure you, Monsieur Monet, my heart, my soul, want nothing more than to see your work in the hands of those who appreciate it.â
âThen perhaps you should change your line of work, Monsieur Capet,â Monet said. âBecome an art dealer instead of a thief.â
âAn excellent suggestion, in theory,â Sebastian said. âAnd Iâve taken the first step towards following your advice.â
Colin coughed and I rolled my eyes.
âYes. Well.â Sebastian waved us off with a flutter of his handkerchief.
âI have a note from Mr. Markham, the gentleman who received the painting,â I said, handing a sealed letter to the artist, who opened it at once, read, and then laughed.
âThe recipient of your so-called generosity is offering more than a fair price for the work,â Monet said. Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but the artist stopped him. âNo, monsieur. Do not debase yourself by trying to convince me you negotiated the deal. Itâs obvious Kallista is behind this. I see her hand in it bright as the sun.â
âAny admirer of Kallistaâs sees her hand in all good things.â Sebastian stood and crossed the room to Monet. âCan you find it in yourself to forgive me?â
Alice wrinkled her nose. âYou, Monsieur Capet, want to reach a resolution with far too much ease.â
âQuite right, my dear,â Monet said. âBut Iâm in a conciliatory sort of mood and inclined to accept his disingenuous apology. What man wouldnât do the same in the face of such happiness? Alice, you see, has at last agreed to be my wife.â
âChampagne!â Cécile cried. âThere must be champagne at once!â
âThis is the best sort of news,â Colin said. âWhen can we expect the wedding?â
âWe were married three days ago,â Monet said. âI couldnât risk giving her time to change her mind.â We all erupted, cheering and embracing them.
âI could not be happier for you both, mes amis, â Cécile said, kissing him on both cheeks.
âMerci,â Monet said, moving close to Sebastian. âOne more misstep, sir, and you will live to regret it. None of my paintings shall disappear from any location because of a scheme of yours.â
âBien sûr,â Sebastian said. âI give you my word. If I could justââ
âI think you should not push your luck,â I said.
âSome clarification, if I may,â Sebastian continued. âI swear on whatever power, being, person, etcetera, means the most to you that I shall never again extract one of your works from its proper home.â
â Proper home as defined by me, not you.â Monetâs voice was stern, but not without a hint of humor.
âAgreed,â Sebastian said. âBut I cannot tell you that I shall curtail all myâ¦industry.â
âYou will not take any painting done by my fellow Impressionists.â
Sebastian sighed. âDo you not want me to own anything pretty?â
âYou might try buying as a manner of acquisition,â I said.
âHow pedestrian,â Sebastian said. âReally, Kallista, you disappoint me.â
Alice disappeared and then returned, carrying a tray laden with two bottles of champagne and six flutes. âFinish this negotiation, my darling husband, and let us turn our attention to
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
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