Page 84 of Pandora

“So, Mr. Lawrence,” Hamilton says when they are out of earshot, leaning his weight on his cane. He grips its handle, what looks to be a Grecian face carved in ivory. “You have my undivided attention.”

The diplomat’s stare is uncomfortably direct. Edward recognizes that he will not stand for time-wasting pleasantries, and so he comes straight to the point.

“In my letter—which I wrote on the advice of Richard Gough—I said that I had come across a pithos. That pithos,” he adds, chucking his chin in the direction of the ballroom. “I also said that its owner has many articles of Greek pottery which have possibly been acquired by underhand means.”

“I see.”

“I wrote requesting your advice.”

Sir William is very still. “Am I to understand that the owner of these artefacts is Dora Blake, as Lady Latimer indicated?”

“The owner is her uncle.”

Hamilton’s expression darkens. “Do you know where he acquired them?”

“We do not. Though that is something I am trying to discover.” Edward thinks of the man Coombe, determines to visit his lodgings the first moment he can. “Dora found the pithos in the shop’s basement.”

“And how did it find its way here?”

“She has been using it for her jewelry designs. Lady Latimer took a liking to one of them, demanded to know where the inspiration came from.”

Sir William nods. “Yes, her ladyship has always been a stickler for getting her own way. How did Dora’s uncle take it?”

“You must ask Dora.”

Hamilton pauses. Twists the cane on its foot.

“What advice were you hoping I could give, Mr. Lawrence?”

Here then, the crux of it.

“Dora gave me permission to use the pithos as a study, as a means to gain entrance into the Society of Antiquaries. She has been sketching the pithos. I meant to write its history but the problem is—understanding now that it is of questionable origin—the Society cannot possibly publish it. I hoped, as an expert on Greek antiquities, that you would take a look at it, that you might give me an understanding of the black-market and its operations.”

“Why?”

Edward hesitates. “For a different study.”

“And does Dora know you wrote to me?”

Edward hesitates again, shuffles his feet, winces at the painful pinch of his slippers.

“She knows I asked advice about the pithos. As for the other matter...”

“Hmm.”

Hamilton does not deliver the admonishment Edward feels sure to be on the tip of his tongue. The admonishment he deserves.

“What do you intend to do with that knowledge?”

Heat floods Edward’s cheeks. The guilt again, churning in the seat of his belly.

“I intend to publish my findings.”

“Do you plan to name her?”

“I plan to name no one.”

Sir William frowns. “You realize there is a great danger here? The authorities will have to be taken into account. Whether or not you name Dora or her uncle... you understand what I mean to say?”

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