Read Online Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 by Patricia Hagan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Hagan
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not prepared for such absolute splendor.”
He stared upward at the ceiling, frescoed with an allegorical composition. The entire room was resonant with French baroque grandeur. The floor was of rich parquet de Versailles. A Russian silver-and-onyx garniture adorned the mantel shelf.
But his attention was captured by a painting by Edouard Manet, which was set off by carved floral swags on the faux-marbre walls. He walked to it and, after a moment of reverent silence, spoke in almost a whisper. “That is ‘Olympia’. He completed that in 1863. However did you come by it?”
Kitty smiled. It was always a pleasure to share her passion for art with someone. “It was a private sale. My husband heard about it in his travels. We went to Strasbourg to buy it.”
A maid in crisp yellow cotton appeared with a silver tray on which were glasses of sparkling Burgundy. Cyril took one, then accepted Kitty’s invitation to join her on the damask lounge before the window overlooking her beloved rose garden.
“You requested a private showing.”
Cyril nodded with enthusiasm. “And I wish to thank you for allowing it. I suppose I do not have to tell you that the treasures you and your stepdaughter discovered in Monaco are the talk of Paris.”
“Actually my stepdaughter found them. And, yes, we are aware of the interest. We’re very excited over the opening of the shop.”
“I can understand why. Tell me,” he urged, “will she allow any of the Monaco paintings to be sold prior to the gallery opening?”
“I doubt it. I think she’d like to have them on display for a time, to generate even further interest in the shop. I doubt she’ll offer them to be sold until sometime next year.”
He flashed a wry smile. “You cannot blame a dealer for trying.”
“Let me get Dani,” Kitty suggested. “She’s set up a little display area in the library, and I’m sure she’d like to meet you and show you the paintings herself. I’ve a late-afternoon tea to attend. Will you excuse me for going?”
Cyril politely rose. “Of course, and I’m sure I will enjoy your stepdaughter’s company. Charm, no doubt, runs in the family,” he added with a small bow.
Kitty demurely thanked him for his compliment and was almost through the door when she suddenly whirled about. “You will be receiving an invitation soon. To give our friends a private showing prior to the public opening, Travis and I are hosting a reception and ball in the Jardin des Tuileries. We do hope you will be able to come.”
Cyril knew in that moment that nothing would keep him away. A social event in the breathtaking gardens directly behind the spectacular Louvre Palace was not to be missed if one was fortunate enough to be invited. He also knew that a Coltrane affair was always lavish, always the high point of the social season.
When he was alone once more, Cyril discreetly moved about the room examining the splendid furnishings. He was wealthy in his own right, was not intimidated by such opulence but merely wanted to compare it with his own. Material things, he felt, were not truly important in life, but he happened to like them, intended to have the best of them.
He paused before a sculpture with a Carrara marble base, absently wondering where the beauty had been acquired.
He dared to run his fingertips down the delicate lines of the Allegrain, a woman with a water jug held almost sensuously against her breast.
There was, he grimly, silently, acknowledged, something he did not have…something he wanted, had to have, if he were to achieve total success in his life, his career.
In order to reach that coveted pinnacle that would acclaim him as the absolute connoisseur in Europe, perhaps even the world, he had to make a discovery!
He had to discover something truly valuable, rare, perhaps even priceless.
He had traveled extensively, lived for a time in many countries—Austria, Germany, Russia, even Italy and Greece. When something came along, he would
He stared upward at the ceiling, frescoed with an allegorical composition. The entire room was resonant with French baroque grandeur. The floor was of rich parquet de Versailles. A Russian silver-and-onyx garniture adorned the mantel shelf.
But his attention was captured by a painting by Edouard Manet, which was set off by carved floral swags on the faux-marbre walls. He walked to it and, after a moment of reverent silence, spoke in almost a whisper. “That is ‘Olympia’. He completed that in 1863. However did you come by it?”
Kitty smiled. It was always a pleasure to share her passion for art with someone. “It was a private sale. My husband heard about it in his travels. We went to Strasbourg to buy it.”
A maid in crisp yellow cotton appeared with a silver tray on which were glasses of sparkling Burgundy. Cyril took one, then accepted Kitty’s invitation to join her on the damask lounge before the window overlooking her beloved rose garden.
“You requested a private showing.”
Cyril nodded with enthusiasm. “And I wish to thank you for allowing it. I suppose I do not have to tell you that the treasures you and your stepdaughter discovered in Monaco are the talk of Paris.”
“Actually my stepdaughter found them. And, yes, we are aware of the interest. We’re very excited over the opening of the shop.”
“I can understand why. Tell me,” he urged, “will she allow any of the Monaco paintings to be sold prior to the gallery opening?”
“I doubt it. I think she’d like to have them on display for a time, to generate even further interest in the shop. I doubt she’ll offer them to be sold until sometime next year.”
He flashed a wry smile. “You cannot blame a dealer for trying.”
“Let me get Dani,” Kitty suggested. “She’s set up a little display area in the library, and I’m sure she’d like to meet you and show you the paintings herself. I’ve a late-afternoon tea to attend. Will you excuse me for going?”
Cyril politely rose. “Of course, and I’m sure I will enjoy your stepdaughter’s company. Charm, no doubt, runs in the family,” he added with a small bow.
Kitty demurely thanked him for his compliment and was almost through the door when she suddenly whirled about. “You will be receiving an invitation soon. To give our friends a private showing prior to the public opening, Travis and I are hosting a reception and ball in the Jardin des Tuileries. We do hope you will be able to come.”
Cyril knew in that moment that nothing would keep him away. A social event in the breathtaking gardens directly behind the spectacular Louvre Palace was not to be missed if one was fortunate enough to be invited. He also knew that a Coltrane affair was always lavish, always the high point of the social season.
When he was alone once more, Cyril discreetly moved about the room examining the splendid furnishings. He was wealthy in his own right, was not intimidated by such opulence but merely wanted to compare it with his own. Material things, he felt, were not truly important in life, but he happened to like them, intended to have the best of them.
He paused before a sculpture with a Carrara marble base, absently wondering where the beauty had been acquired.
He dared to run his fingertips down the delicate lines of the Allegrain, a woman with a water jug held almost sensuously against her breast.
There was, he grimly, silently, acknowledged, something he did not have…something he wanted, had to have, if he were to achieve total success in his life, his career.
In order to reach that coveted pinnacle that would acclaim him as the absolute connoisseur in Europe, perhaps even the world, he had to make a discovery!
He had to discover something truly valuable, rare, perhaps even priceless.
He had traveled extensively, lived for a time in many countries—Austria, Germany, Russia, even Italy and Greece. When something came along, he would
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