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the best words to use.
    “It has something to do with the painting, doesn’t it?” she finally broke the silence, making it easy for him.
    “I’m afraid so.” Galen tried not to imagine the pain that would soon fill those luminous blue eyes, but he could feel their impact as she waited patiently. Miss Arianne Richards was not the kind of laughing, lovely beauty he usually fancied, but there was something in her grave demeanor and intelligent face that gave him cause to look twice. What he saw was a woman fully capable of dealing with whatever came her way, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “The painting was stolen last night.”
    Arianne’s eyes widened as she absorbed this information. “Stolen? How can that be? Who would steal a painting? It cannot be sold like diamonds or jewels. With all those other valuable things lying about, why would a thief bother with a painting of questionable value?”
    The unshakable charm left Galen’s features as he took the place beside her. For the first time, Arianne had a glimpse of the man behind the mask of social politeness. He seemed to struggle within himself before deciding on the path of honesty. “The painting was the only thing stolen. This was no ordinary thief. Have you seen Rhys lately?”
    Shocked, Arianne clasped her hands and stared out over the greensward where the children romped. They really ought to be in the country, where they could do this every day. Her mother longed for the country again. For her health, it really was a necessity. The painting was a very small step in that direction. A very small step. Its loss really shouldn’t matter so much. Someone else must have had a greater need than she.
    “Last night. He came by last night. He was in an odd humor, said he was leaving the city for a little while. But he’s coming back. I’m certain of it. He couldn’t be the thief, my lord. He really couldn’t be.” Even as Arianne said it, she couldn’t know that of a certainty. Rhys had wanted her to stop the sale of the painting. Locke hadn’t wanted to comply. How desperate had he been?
    Galen’s thoughts had apparently taken the same direction. “He asked me to hold up the sale of the painting, but I wouldn’t agree without consulting Christie’s and yourself. Did he mention the painting at all? Give some clue as to its importance?”
    Arianne shook her head and struggled for composure. How could she say that he had hinted he would be returning for her when all was well? That had just been her imagination willing something into words that had never been said. But she hadn’t imagined his kiss. She struggled not to touch her lips. He had kissed her, and then he had said good-bye. There was no clue in that.
    “He merely said that there were some things he must do outside of the city, something about rectifying a situation that brought shame to those near to him. I know nothing of his circumstances, my lord. You would know more of him than I.”
    Galen couldn’t possibly mention that Rhys had been with him when he entered a brothel but had left before enjoying the selection. He would need to go back and question the girls to see if any knew when he had left. Perhaps he could piece together Llewellyn’s activities of the night and thus uncover some clue. But if he had gone to see Arianne ... That covered the early part of the evening.
    “Evan knows more of Rhys than any other, and he’s out of town at the moment. Perhaps we are on the wrong path entirely. Perhaps he wanted to remove the painting from sale to protect it, knowing it hides something of importance to someone else. Does that sound like a Minerva novel, Miss Richards?”
    “I would rather believe that than the other. I should have known that nothing worth having is gained easily. Perhaps we should forget the whole thing. When Rhys comes back, we’ll know the story, even if we do not find the painting.”
    She managed to sound brave and gallant about the incident, while Galen wanted