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"Jonas, we've got to do something."

"Such as?"Advertisement

Verity put her hand urgently on his sleeve. "I don't know. I do know I can't talk Caitlin out of her plan.

She's convinced it will work."

"Then there's not much we can do except stand by in case Kincaid gets nasty."

The evening wore on toward midnight. In the dense crowd, it was relatively simple for Jonas and Verity to avoid Kincaid.

Simple, that was, until Kincaid sought them out.

"Ah, there you are, Miss Ames. Quarrel. I understood you two had been invited tonight," Kincaid said smoothly as he walked up to them with the easy attitude of an old acquaintance. He helped himself to a couple of canapes from the buffet table. "An interesting affair, isn't it? Falls a little short of the real thing in places, however. This food, for instance, is certainly very twentieth century."

"Not particularly," Verity countered crisply. "A lot of the items on this buffet would have looked right at home on a Renaissance table. The egg-based dishes, the meats, and the pastas would have appeared familiar to someone from that era. A lot of modern cooking dates from the Renaissance. Of course, there aren't any pies with live birds inside, and I don't see any salted pork tongues or boiled calves'

feet, but I expect the caterer had to make a few concessions to modern tastes. You're the expert, Jonas. What do you think?"

Jonas had heard the underlying hostility in her voice as she defended the buffet selections and he winced. Acting was apparently not one of his love's talents. Now that Verity had decided Kincaid was the bad guy, she was going to have a tough time hiding her dislike of him. He tried to gloss over the implicit rudeness, not wanting to alert Kincaid any more than he already was.

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"I think you're right. The buffet table could have passed muster four hundred years ago. The caterer had an advantage tonight, however. He didn't have to worry about kitchen security."

"Security?" Kincaid cocked a handsome brow.

"In the Renaissance, food for an important gathering had to be prepared under tight security," Jonas explained patiently. "Everyone worried about getting poisoned."

"Oh, yes, that's right." Kincaid chuckled and helped himself to another canape. "Life back then must have been a constant adventure."

"That's an understatement. Did you ever get around to having the dagger authenticated?" Jonas asked conversationally.

Kincaid sipped his wine. "I did. And you were quite right. I hate to say it, but it appears I was taken. Not something I like to admit."

I'll just bet you don't, Jonas thought. "Did you speak to whoever handled the deal for you? Or contact the original owner?" He didn't know what made him ask that last question. He simply couldn't resist.

He saw the attentive gleam in Verity's eyes and knew she, too, was remembering the man who had died in a bowl of linguini.

"There was no third party involved in the deal," Kincaid said casually. "Perhaps if I had been willing to pay a commission to someone qualified to authenticate the dagger, I wouldn't have found myself in the embarrassing position I was in when you spotted it for a fake in my office. As for the original owner, I'm afraid there's no going back to him for restitution. He's unavailable. The man had the bad manners to die a few years back. Shot, I believe, by a thief who got into his home one evening."

"How awful," Verity said with more depth of feeling than Jonas would have liked under the circumstances.

"Was he a friend of yours?"

"Merely a business acquaintance."

"Did the police ever catch the murderer?" Verity persisted.

"I have no idea. I didn't follow the story." Kincaid dismissed the subject as he glanced around the throng.

"So the mysterious, reclusive artist finally greets her public. I must admit she's doing it in grand style. Miss Evanger is a striking woman. Pity about the scar and that leg."

"She was in an accident," Verity muttered defensively. "She's lucky to be alive."

"Is that right?" Kincaid studied Caitlin from across the room.

Jonas gave serious consideration to throttling his lady. He contented himself with putting his arm around her waist and squeezing. Hard. She flinched and slanted him a reproachful glance. Silently he shook his head and she finally got the message. He saw the chagrin in her eyes as she realized she was getting too mouthy in front of Caitlin's enemy.

Verity's problem, Jonas decided objectively, was that she tended to be too mouthy most of the time and the tendency got worse when her temper was aroused.

"You'll be back here tomorrow along with the other bidders?" Jonas asked smoothly, hoping to distract Kincaid from his intense study of Caitlin.

"Yes. I can't say I appreciate the delay or all this nonsense Evanger is insisting upon, but I guess we must humor the eccentric artist. A relatively small price to pay for a chance at Evanger's final work,"

Kincaid replied absently. "What about you and Miss Ames?"

"We'll be at the auction, but we won't be bidding. We're here as Caitlin's guests," Verity volunteered.

Once again Jonas let his grip tighten unmercifully around her waist. Jonas didn't want Kincaid to have any more information than he already possessed. The whole damn situation was already too dangerous.

"I see. Miss Evanger must value your company," Kincaid said blandly. "Have you known her long?

I understood she had few acquaintances."

"We've known her awhile," Jonas replied stonily, wishing Kincaid would leave before he pried any more information out of Verity. In the next moment, he got his wish.

"There's someone I should speak to across the room. A fellow collector. I'm surprised he's here tonight.

He usually avoids this kind of gathering. If you'll both excuse me?"

"Of course," Verity said primly.

Kincaid's eyes went to her bare shoulders and the white skin above the blue bodice. "I hope you will honor me with a dance later, Miss Ames. Unless, of course, Quarrel objects?" He smiled blandly at Jonas.

"He does," Jonas said easily. "I keep close tabs on Verity. I'm sure you understand."

"For heaven's sake, Jonas," Verity exclaimed in exasperation.

Kincaid chuckled and moved off into the crowd. Verity rounded on Jonas. "Let's get something clear, Jonas. I don't particularly want to dance with that bastard, but I'm perfectly capable of making the decision and acting on it myself. I don't want you thinking you can pick and choose my dance partners for me." pqdm.com