Chapter 8 A Fake!
Chapter Eight
Monica scoffed in disbelief, throwing her head back from amusement, laughing mockingly.
“You?! You have more class and taste than I?!” She uttered, her eyes flashing with indignation, “Aria Beaumont, stop this madness at once! How can you claim to have more taste than I when it’s so obvious that I have better upbringing than you?”
Aria scoffed, looking unbothered, “It’s foolish to judge a book by its cover, Monica.” She uttered, “You’ve only just met me, yet you judge me based on hearsay. How uncouth!”
Monica scoffed, her eyes almost rolling into the back of her head, “As if the hearsay is not the truth? Tell me Aria, did you pick up some kind of noble skills in the country side?” She laughed derisively, “Did you perhaps learn art, business or social skills over there while tending to the pigs?”
“Monica!” Madam Graves uttered in exasperation.
“But mother, I was just trying to let Aria show us how great she is,” Monica replied with a mocking smirk at Aria. She waved her hand around the room, gesturing towards the various art pieces everywhere, “Do you even know what these are? Do you even know their value or how important they are?”
“What are you talking about, honey?” Nathan put in sarcastically, “How can a country bumpkin know about such exquisite artworks? She can only dream about them!”
“Enough, you two!” The Chairman thundered, getting to his feet, “Aria, come with me and let’s go meet Lucian. You do not have to sit and listen to these two nitwits who bring nothing but trouble.”
Monica and Nathan bristled at that statement, “Mother! Father! That’s harsh!”
Madam Graves eyed them indignantly then turned to Aria, “That’s right, Aria. Let’s just go meet Lucian first.”
But Aria held up her hand to stop them, “No, that’s okay mother. Can you hold on a second?”
Something had caught her eye , and as Elara Vaughn, she was never going to let those vicious couple, Monica and Nathan, get away with their words.
“You may only see Aria Beaumont now,” she thought to herself, “But you’re messing with Elara Vaughn. No one messes with me and gets away with it.”
The Chairman and Madam blinked at her in surprise as she twalked slowly towards one of the art pieces hanging on the wall.
It was a large framed painting, sitting gracefully on the wall, and at a single glance, it was exquisite.
The canvas showed a misty forest at dawn, the light breaking through in thin, shimmering rays.
It was the signature style of Carl Dubois, a late painter whose works often sold for millions, and whose originals Elara knew far too well.
This painting itself was called, “The Dawn Of The Immortal Wood.”
Monica lifted her chin, “Well, it seem you do have a good eyes for art, but of course it was my taste that brought it here,” she walked towards the painting as well and stared down Elara, “I managed to secure this masterpiece before the auction list was released. It was a gift for father’s last birthday. It’s limited edition, the only one of its kind ever to exist. It costs me seven million dollars.”
Nathan stood up as well and tucked his hands in his pockets, “Everyone in Crestmont knows that Monica has the most impeccable eye and taste when it comes to art,” he snickered, “Hearing you compare yourself to her is just laughable, don’t you think, Miss Aria Beaumont?”
Aria turned to look at him, coldly. Nathan was giving her a malicious smile as well.
He knew why Aria had turned to look at him. It was because he was still referring to her as Miss Beaumont instead of the Graves family name.
He was still adamantly refusing to address her as Lucian’s wife.
Aria looked at him once, her emerald gaze as cool as ice, then turned back to Monica, “That’s absolutely splendid, Monica.” She crooned, “it really is a master piece.”
Monica scoffed, “Stop pretending like you even know what is a masterpiece. You’re backpedaling now that you see how foolish your previous statement was, right?!”
“Here, here! That’s enough, Monica.” Madam Graves said in her quiet, frustrated voice, “You’ve had your say. Aria, come let’s go on to Lucian’s room.”
“Yes Aria, no need to waste any more time here.” The Chairman said as well.
They were both trying to give Aria face because, like the other two, they thought Aria will likely know nothing about art. She was just a country girl after all, someone who grew up amongst horses and pigs on a farm.
The Chairman and Madam acknowledged that Aria might not know anything about the aristocrat life, but they will not let her put up with Nathan and Monica’s teasing.
But Aria gently declined their invitation once more.
Lucian can wait for a bit.
She had to deal with these pompous asses here.
And this painting…
Aria smirked.
This painting was definitely off.
She lifted her gaze, her voice calm but it seemed to grate on Monica’s nerves, “It really is an exquisite piece of work, but it’s such a shame that it’s fake.”
There was a shout of laughter from Nathan and Monica.
“Aria Beaumont, will you please shut the hell up?!" Monica asked in mockery, “You think acting like an aristocrat makes you one? How can you tell if it’s fake when you’ve never even seen something like it?”
Aria smiled quietly, “The colors are slightly off. Dubois uses a rare pigment blend he mixed himself, atmospheric silver with crushed opal dust. This gave his dawn-light artworks an almost living glow,” she spoke softly, with the composed elegance of someone who knew what they were doing, “This copy has tried to mimic that glow, Monica, but failed. As you can see here, the light sits flat on the canvas. It looks dull, and dead.”
Monica bristled as Aria spoke, and her fists clenched beside her, “Aria Beaumont, don’t think you will fool us using such grand words. You know nothing about art nor Carl Dubois’s work. Stop pretending!”
Aria tilted her head at her, her eyes mocking, “Since you’re such an art expert, then you must know about Carl Dubois work. Why then did you make such a stupid error, wasting all that money?”
Monica and Nathan gasped in outrage, rendered speechless by Aria’s direct jab.
Even the Chairman and his wife were astonished at Aria’s eloquence. They all looked at the painting more keenly now.
Could it be that it was really fake?
Aria stepped closer, her fingers brushing the lower right corner of the painting, “As you can see here, even the signature is wrong.” She said confidently and everyone’s eyes riveted down to the spot, “Dubois always etched his “D” with a sharp upward flick, a tiny habit from his calligraphy days.”
Everyone had their mouth open as they leaned forward to see what Aria was talking about, while Aria went on,
“The forgers always struggled to replicate it because it required a trained wrist, and as you can see with this painting…” she pointed at the spot, “The flick curves downward.”