Page 23 of Black and Silver

“You are right, of course,” Lawrence agreed, the heat in his eyes palpable. “We must act before it is too late.”

Minnie wondered if he was still talking about the statue.

Chapter Eight

The only thing more difficult than breaking away from his sudden closeness to Minerva so that the two of them could begin their efforts to comb Tidworth Hall in search of his sculpture was when Lawrence had to share a bed with Minerva that night without touching her.

The search came first, of course. The two of them waited what they hoped would be a sufficient amount of time to allow Jessica and Lord Otho to retire for the evening before opening the bedroom door and poking their heads out into the hall, Minerva lower down and Lawrence a foot or two above as they peeked simultaneously.

They made a valiant first effort, but before they could do more than creep down to the end of the hall, near the top of the stairs, they were discovered by one of the upstairs maids who was intent upon her nightly duties.

“Is anything amiss, my lord?” she addressed Lawrence with wide, startled eyes. “Is there something I could fetch for you, my lady?” She turned her attention to Minerva.

“No, no, nothing is amiss,” Minerva replied, perhaps a bit too quickly, her voice pitched suddenly high.

“My dear wife finds it useful to take a brisk walk before bedtime,” Lawrence blurted nearly before Minerva had finished. “And since it has already grown dark and the weather is inclement, I’ve decided to accompany her on a stroll of the upstairs hallway.”

“Yes,” Minerva agreed enthusiastically. “I find that a walk before bed aids in my digestion.”

“As you please, my lady, my lord,” the maid said, curtsying awkwardly.

As she went about her duties, she eyed the two of them warily over her shoulder.

Lawrence swept Minerva along, proceeding to the end of the hallway, as if they truly were interested in a walk. They made an initial effort to search for the statue on that upstairs hallway as they did, but after opening doors into empty guestrooms and inadvertently startling two of the footmen in one of those rooms as they appeared to be about to engage in an activity Jessica and Lord Otho most definitely would not approve of, Lawrence deemed it too dangerous to continue the search.

“We will have to try again in the morning,” he whispered, disappointed, as he whisked Minerva back to their own guestroom. “I do not think it would be wise for us to be found out at this late hour.”

“Yes,” Minerva said with a hum. “We need more information before we can make an efficient search in any case.”

“Agreed,” Lawrence said as they reached their room and stepped back inside.

The night that followed was one of the longest and most painful of Lawrence’s life. It was easy enough for Minerva to undress in the seclusion of the dressing room, but because of the construction of her gown, Lawrence was required to loosen a fewties and help begin Minerva’s process of disrobing. That set his imagination off down a dangerous path.

Matters were not helped at all when he slipped out of his own clothing and into his nightshirt, which was entirely insufficient when it came to giving him the feeling of still being clothed as he climbed into the large bed beside Minerva. Her own nightgown in no way made him feel like she was still dressed either.

“Goodnight, Lawrence,” Minerva said over her shoulder as she stretched to blow out the candle she had placed on the small table on her side of the bed. “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, dear wife,” Lawrence replied, pretending that he was merely being silly and not giving voice to the niggling wish at the back of his brain. “Do not fall prey to highwaymen in your sleep.”

Minerva laughed aloud, then settled into the comfortable bed with her back to him.

Lawrence twisted to the side to turn down the lamp on the table beside him, then flopped to his back, willing himself to sleep. He needed to sleep. He needed the comfort of oblivion, where he did not remember the sound of Minerva’s laughter, or the mischief that had been in her eyes during supper, or the way she’d kissed his cheek in her excitement earlier. He needed to wrap himself in nothingness so that he did not think ahead to everything the future might hold, or so that he did not contemplate the immediate moment he existed in, where he lay in bed with Minerva.

He could not do any of that, though. Sleep eluded him almost entirely as the night wore on. Worse still, he did not even dare to toss and turn to relieve the growing aches in his body as he did not want Minerva to know he was still awake. She seemed so still and peaceful, her breathing low and regular, but Lawrence was convinced that the slightest twitch on his part would pop her towakefulness, at which point he would be forced to confess every reason he could not so much as shut his eyes.

It occurred to him deep into the night, when Minerva coughed suddenly and shifted that she might be caught in the same sort of sleepless throes that he was, but Lawrence did not dare to ask Minerva if she was still awake. Instead, he turned onto his side with his back facing her, a position which felt far safer, and watched the dying embers in the fireplace until his eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off.

It felt as though no time at all had passed when the maid came in to relight the fire in the early hours before dawn. Lawrence used the excuse of the domestic interruption to twist to his other side, where he found Minerva lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

A small smile touched the corners of his mouth. It was a comfort to see that he was not the only one suffering from an inability to let go of the waking world.

When the maid finally left and silence reigned again, Minerva turned her head to him and said, “I’ve had an idea,” as if their conversation from the night before had never ended.

“I am all ears,” Lawrence said, trying not to yawn or give any indication of how exhausted the sleepless night had left him.

Minerva sat up, hugging the bedclothes around her. “We ask Lady Jessica for a tour of the house,” she said.

Lawrence sat as well, making certain the bedcovers on his side were tucked thickly around his waist just in case. “A tour of the house?” he asked.

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