Chapter 137

Ballaster stepped into the auction house, his tailor–made suit fitting him like a glove. Naylor followed closely behind, both moving with an understated elegance that barely rippled the buzz of the event. The staff led them through a labyrinth of corridors toward the heart of the action.

They had barely taken a few strides when Mrs. Collins approached, her smile warm and welcoming. “Mr. Aster, what an unexpected pleasure to have you grace our charity auction. We are truly honored.”

Ballaster offered a modest grin. “Just here to have a look around.”

Mrs. Collins nodded and escorted them to the lounge. “I heard you’re looking for a painting? I must say, tonight we don’t have any masterpieces getting auctioned.”

Once settled into the plush sofas of the lounge, Ballaster leaned forward. “I’m actually interested in a piece by an artist who isn’t widely known. The name is Lorn. Any chance you have one of this person’s works here?”

“Lorn?” Mrs. Collins paused, her brow furrowing as she shook her head. “There’s only one painting up for auction tonight. It’s by a Mrs. Delaney, titled “Lone Bluff. We don’t have anything by the artist you mentioned.”

“Mrs. Delaney?” Naylor interjected, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. “As in Cordelia’s mother?”

Mrs. Collins seemed puzzled by their familiarity with Cordelia, but she confirmed, “Yes, that’s her.”

Naylor coughed, a series of harsh, abrupt sounds. He turned to Ballaster, saying, “I’ve seen Mrs. Delaney’s piece ‘Frostfall‘ at an exhibition. It was quite remarkable. But if Fanny’s critique was anything to go by, calling it inexperienced and stiff… Could it be that Cordelia has dragged you here under false pretenses?”

It certainly seemed like a possibility, especially since Cordelia had invoked the name ‘Lorn‘ to pique Ballaster’s

interest.

someone important in the community, he swallowed his irritation and spoke up, “Well, I did promise to take a look. It wouldn’t be right

inwardly. Renowned for his impartiality in the art world, Ballaster seldom critiqued work these days.

if it was for Cordelia’s sake. He

was inwardly taken aback. What sort of influence did Cordelia wield

a feeling tonight’s auction was going to be

to the main hall with Cordelia. The attendees were a mix of invitees and serious collectors drawn by the auction items. The crowd was more substantial than the one at Hackett’s birthday soiree,

and Cordelia stepped out to a sea of whispers and

“That’s Mrs. Delaney?”

seems decent enough, not like

confusing babble to Lorna until a familiar voice broke through, “Mrs. Delaney.” Cordelia turned to see Mrs. Brown, who had once accompanied her to a gallery. The woman’s expression was stern, her voice barely above a whisper, “Mrs. Delaney, I need to clear something up. I did not spread the word about Fanny’s critique of your painting. I may be outspoken, but I truly admire your work. Your expertise in watercolor is something I could

12.07

Chapter 137

Mrs. Brown’s forthrightness but

been straightforward, which often leads to misunderstandings. I’m glad you know

unwilling to draw the ire of the crowd. Cordelia, used to solitude, was unfazed by the lack of greetings. Lorna, meanwhile, suggested they grab a bite, “We’ll have a proper meal once we get home. Let’s just get

straight from school and changed in the car, Cordelia was indeed hungry. She picked up

Sanderson, who was accompanied by a young, strikingly handsome man in a well–fitted black suit. It was

a smile at

were separated by a crowd, and Sanderson was busy mingling, preventing Everard from approaching. He quirked an eyebrow, then playfully pressed two fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss across the room. Cordelia blushed, flustered by his brazen display. Intent on avoiding further attention, she focused on her dessert. But before she could take another bite, a

his gentle demeanor. Sporting a new pair of

“Louie? What are you doing here?”

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