This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles #7)(79)

‘Missed what?’ said Virginia, trying not to display her impatience.

‘Two large blue and white vases. I checked the markings on the base, and I think they just might be Ming Dynasty.’

Virginia kept her tone casual. ‘Are they valuable enough to be added to the inventory?’

‘Without question, if they turn out to be originals. A similar pair, but much smaller than yours, came up at auction in New York a couple of years ago, and the hammer price was over a million dollars. I’ve taken some photographs of them,’ Poltimore continued, ‘in particular the distinctive markings on the base, which I’ll show to our Chinese expert as soon as I get back to Bond Street. I’ll write to let you know his opinion.’

‘I would prefer you to telephone me,’ said Virginia. ‘I wouldn’t want to get the duke’s hopes up, only to find it was a false alarm.’

‘I’ll call you some time tomorrow,’ Poltimore promised.

‘Good, then that’s settled,’ said Virginia, as a footman came out carrying a suitcase which he placed in the boot of the car.

‘I’ll say goodbye now, your grace.’

‘Not quite yet, Mr Poltimore,’ said Virginia, who joined him in the back. She waited until they had set off down the drive before whispering, ‘If the duke were to decide to sell the vases, how would you recommend he go about it?’

‘If our expert confirms they are Ming Dynasty, we would advise you which sale would be most appropriate for a piece of such historic importance.’

‘If possible, I’d like to sell them with the minimum of fuss and the maximum discretion.’

‘Of course, your grace,’ said Poltimore. ‘But I should point out that if the Hertford name were attached to the vases, one could expect them to fetch a far higher price. I’m sure you’re aware that two things really matter when a discovery of this potential importance comes up for auction: provenance, and when the piece last appeared on the market. So if you can combine the name of Hertford with three hundred years of history, frankly it would be an auctioneer’s dream.’

‘Yes, I can see that would make a difference,’ said Virginia, ‘but for personal reasons, the duke might want to remain anonymous.’

‘Whatever you decided we would, of course, abide by your wishes,’ said Poltimore as the car drew up outside the station.

The chauffeur opened the door to allow the duchess to get

out.

‘I look forward to hearing from you, Mr Poltimore,’ she said, as the train pulled into the station.

‘I’ll call you as soon as I have any news, and whatever decision you make, be assured that Sotheby’s will be proud to serve you with the utmost discretion.’ He gave a slight nod before climbing aboard.

Virginia didn’t return to the car, but crossed the footbridge to platform number two, and only had to wait for a few minutes before the London train pulled in. When she waved to the duke, he rewarded her with a huge smile.

‘Good of you to come and meet me, old gal,’ he said, bending down to kiss her.

‘Don’t be silly, Perry, I couldn’t wait to see you.’

‘Has anything interesting happened while I was away?’ the duke asked as he handed the stationmaster his ticket.

‘I’ve planted a bed of fuchsia, which should flower in the summer, but frankly I’m more interested in hearing everything that happened at your regimental dinner.’





Poltimore was as good as his word, and rang the following afternoon to let Virginia know that Mr Li Wong, Sotheby’s Chinese expert, had studied the photographs of the vases, and in particular the distinctive markings on their bases, and was fairly confident that they were Ming Dynasty. However, he stressed that he would need to examine them in person before he could give his final imprimatur.

Li appeared a fortnight later, when the duke was visiting his doctor in Harley Street for his annual check-up. He didn’t need to stay overnight, as a few minutes was quite enough to convince him that the two vases were works of genius which would ignite global interest among the leading Chinese collectors. He was also able to add one corroborative piece of scholarship.

After spending a day at the British Museum, he had come across a reference which suggested that the fourth Duke of Hertford had led a diplomatic mission to Peking some time in the early nineteenth century, on behalf of His Majesty’s government, and the two vases were probably a gift from the Emperor Jiaqing to mark the occasion. Li went on to remind the duchess, more than once, that this historical evidence would add considerable value to the pieces. A gift of two Ming vases from an emperor to a duke who was representing a king would have the auction world buzzing.

Li was clearly disappointed when Virginia told him that if the duke were to part with the vases, it was most unlikely that he would want the world to know he was selling off a family heirloom.

‘Perhaps his grace would agree to the simple nomenclature, “the property of a nobleman”?’ suggested the Chinese expert.

‘A most satisfactory compromise,’ agreed the duchess, who didn’t accompany Li to the station, as he would be safely back in London long before the duke boarded his train for Hertford.





As Virginia knocked on the door of the duke’s study, it brought back memories of being summoned by her father to be given a lecture on her shortcomings. But not today. She was about to be told the finer details of Perry’s will.