Chapter 43

Evelyn's cheeks burned with embarrassment as Margaret's sudden outburst drew all eyes toward them.

Victoria had intended to publicly humiliate Evelyn. She gestured dramatically at the painting. "Even if this is a fake, I appreciate the thought. But please don't go around telling people it's genuine."

A stunned silence fell over the banquet hall.

Victoria's face drained of color before flushing crimson with rage.

"What would you know about art?" she spat at Evelyn. "Have you ever studied ink wash techniques? Have you even seen an original Isabella Grayson? Who gave you the right to call my painting fake?"

Evelyn felt trapped. If proven wrong, she'd become the laughingstock of the entire gathering.

But Margaret saw things differently.

Only true art connoisseurs could distinguish masterpieces from forgeries. With the accusation made, doubt had been planted in everyone's minds.

Even if Victoria produced receipts or certificates, they'd assume she'd been duped.

An avid art collector among the guests adjusted his spectacles and began examining the painting intently.

Meanwhile, Victoria rushed to Liam's side, clutching his arm dramatically. "Liam, you have to defend me! Evelyn has no right to call my gift fake! She knows nothing about art! This is deliberate humiliation!"

Liam remained impassive, even shaking off Victoria's grip with visible irritation. "I don't know anything about paintings. But since it's your gift for Grandmother, I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture regardless."

Victoria stomped her foot in frustration, sensing Liam's changed attitude toward her. "This is different! Evelyn's trying to embarrass me on purpose!"

Cassandra came to Victoria's defense. "Evelyn's gone too far this time. She knows nothing about art yet presumes to judge it."

Penelope chimed in. "Exactly! If you're so knowledgeable, Evelyn, why don't you show us a real Isabella Grayson?"

Just as the murmurs against Evelyn grew, the examining guest slammed his palm on the table.

"This is indeed a forgery!" he declared.

Victoria froze in panic.

The collector removed his glasses. "The essence of 'Ode to Autumn' captures a perfect fall day with southern winds sweeping the landscape."

"The ferryman sails northward toward sunset. But here—" he pointed, "the wind blows from the south while the ferryman's coat flaps northward. Isabella would never make such an elementary mistake."

Victoria's defenders turned scarlet with embarrassment while others began whispering and laughing.

Margaret had only meant to embarrass Victoria. Discovering the painting was actually fake delighted her beyond measure.

"My granddaughter-in-law has an impeccable eye for art!" Margaret boasted.

Another elderly guest inquired, "Your granddaughter-in-law is an art appraiser?"

Margaret preened. "Of course! She was the one who identified the forgery!"

"How remarkable!"

Margaret couldn't resist showing off. "Evelyn's also an accomplished painter herself—masterful with both watercolors and oils. You should see her breathtaking work—"

Evelyn squeezed Margaret's hand urgently. "Grandmother, please—I'm just an amateur. Don't exaggerate my skills."

Overstating abilities would only lead to humiliation.

Furious at being exposed, Victoria noticed Evelyn's panicked expression and saw an opportunity for revenge.

"If you're such an expert," Victoria said sweetly, "why not demonstrate your skills for everyone? Consider it your gift to Grandmother."

"Brilliant idea!" someone shouted. "We'd love to see Mrs. Blackwood's talent!"

Margaret beamed. "I'll have the butler prepare paints and paper immediately."

Watercolors and oils were forgiving mediums where vibrant colors could mask amateur work. Abstract patterns could pass as intentional art.

Victoria quickly intervened. "Grandmother, I have proper ink and rice paper. Perhaps Evelyn could create an ink wash painting."

Evelyn shook her head frantically at Margaret, her face a mask of terror.

Margaret mistook this for mere nervousness. "Nonsense! You'll do wonderfully!"

Desperate, Evelyn turned pleading eyes to Liam, looking utterly pitiful.

His expression softened. "You truly don't know how to paint?"

"No," Evelyn whispered.

"Just paint as you do for Grandmother."

Evelyn lowered her head. "Those are just... doodles. I can't possibly—at best, they might impress a child."

Liam leaned closer to hear her trembling voice.

Their whispered exchange, heads bent together, appeared strangely intimate—like newlyweds oblivious to their surroundings.

"Do you want me to stop this?" Liam murmured.

"Please," Evelyn begged.

"You're certain?"

"Absolutely."

Liam straightened. "We won't be needing those materials after all."

"Don't you dare interfere!" Margaret snapped, dragging Evelyn forward. "Set everything up! My granddaughter-in-law will showcase her talent!"