Page 24 of Black and Silver

“Yes.” The light in Minerva’s eyes said she had given the matter much thought and was excited for her idea. As always, Lawrence found that excitement contagious. “Your Lady Jessica is quite enamored of the efforts she’s made to renovate Lord Otho’s house,” Minerva went on.

“She is not my Lady Jessica,” Lawrence pointed out, feeling that fact keenly.

Minerva made a slight sweeping gesture with one hand, as if it did not matter. “I am certain she will show us every room in this blasted house. If she has your statue on display, we will certainly see it. Even if she’s placed it on a high shelf or behind a curtain or some such nonsense.”

Lawence nodded. “I believe you are correct.”

“Once we’ve seen the statue, it will be a simple thing to go back later, when we are given some time on our own, to take it away to the carriage for when we depart.”

“Good thinking,” Lawrence said, perking up a bit. “If necessary, we can employ Silas to assist us as well.”

“We most definitely could,” Minerva said, beaming. “I believe this mission will require minimal effort, once Lady Jessica has given us a tour of the house, and we will be in possession of our prize and on our way before nightfall.”

Lawrence reached for Minerva’s hand, then squeezed once she gave it.

Of course, that small gesture caused very large feelings within his chest, and a bit lower.

He ignored them all as he rose from bed and began his preparations for the day ahead of them, carefully keeping his eyes averted when Minerva did the same.

The trouble was, Minerva was in no way correct when she’d assumed that after a tour of the house, they would find the statue and be on their way.

“And this is the small library,” Jessica told them three hours into the interminable tour, as Lawrence’s stomach was beginning to protest with hunger, because the tour had delayed luncheon. “As you can see,” Jessica went on, standing in the center of the room and gesturing to one of the walls, as if she were a guide in a particularly stuffy museum, “no expensewas spared to import the hand-printed paper from the finest manufacturers in Northumbria.”

“Yes,” Lawrence said with a stiff nod, “I have heard that Northumbria is known for its wallpaper manufacturing.”

“The Kingdom of Northumbria has been quick to employ many of the new manufacturing techniques that steam power has brought us,” Jessica said. Then, rather than launching into what could have been an interesting discussion of advances in industry over the last decade or so, she stepped over to one of the bookshelves and said, “Lord Otho has an immense collection of religious texts and books on moral improvement. I have found them quite edifying since our union several years ago.”

By the tone of Jessica’s voice, she found them, and perhaps Lord Otho, as dull and tedious as the entire, hours-long tour had been.

“Do you collect any artwork at all, Lady Jessica?” Minerva asked as they moved on into the large library, which was adjacent to the small one with a door between them. “Or have your and Lord Otho’s collecting interests mostly been of a literary ilk?”

Jessica paused to look at Minerva with a frown as they stopped in front of a huge, stone fireplace in the large library, over which was hung what appeared to be a larger than life portrait of Lord Otho as a young man. He’d looked just as dull in his youth as he did in his old age.

“I am not entirely certain I approve of art,” she said, sending Lawrence a short look. “In my experience, that which is tasteful has already been claimed by museums throughout the New Heptarchy, and that which remains for private consumption should never have been undertaken in the first place.”

Again, she sent Lawrence a look that had him flushing hot and wishing he hadn’t dressed in so many layers that morning. Her words were clearly an admonishment for the very work of arthe and Minerva were seeking out now. Though as he recalled, Jessica had had an entirely different opinion on the matter as she’d splayed naked across a settee for him while he sketched her form for the sculpture he later carved.

“I prefer landscapes myself,” Minerva said, imitating Jessica’s snobbish demeanor in a way Lawrence was certain Jessica did not catch onto. “Particularly rainy ones. Preferably with a graveyard in the scene.”

Lawrence fought not to smile as he remembered the two of them standing in the graveyard near the inn more than a week ago. He had never seen the charm of the bleak until that moment, but now he craved grey clouds as much as he craved sunshine.

Minerva glanced to him with her chin tilted up and her mouth set in a straight line, like Jessica’s was. That imitated expression melted away into something much warmer and more vibrant the moment their eyes met, however. Try as he might, Lawrence could not hide the giddy smile of delight at Minerva’s playfulness, past and present.

The sweet moment was interrupted as Jessica’s maid slipped into the library with them.

“If you please, my lady,” the maid said, dropping an anxious curtsy.

“Yes? What is it, Prissy?” Jessica snapped.

The maid swallowed and said, “Cook would like to know when you plan to take your luncheon, as he’s made soup and it’s getting cold.”

“When we are ready,” Jessica said, as if the poor maid were trying her patience.

“Yes, my lady,” Prissy answered with a half sigh and another curtsy.

As she turned to go, Minerva stepped after her. “If it would not be too much trouble,” she said, glancing back at Lawrence withlight in her eyes, “could you show me to a convenience or water closet of some sort, if Tidworth Hall has such a thing?”

Again, Lawrence fought not to smile. Minerva was most definitely up to something.

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