Page 25 of Black and Silver

“Certainly, my lady,” Prissy said, smiling as she left the library with Minerva.

Lawrence watched until they were gone, then turned to Jessica with a happy smile.

That smile left him a moment later when Jessica reached for his arm to lead him over to a small couch, saying, “I am glad we have this moment alone, Lawrence. There is something I’ve hoped I would be able to say to you.”

Twin jolts of hope and dread struck Lawrence simultaneously, leaving him confused and easy for Jessica to lead to the couch. On the one hand, he hoped she might reveal the location of the statue if they were alone. On the other, which surprised him even more, he dreaded what might happen if it transpired that Jessica still maintained an affection for him and wished to pursue him.

That notion was proven false moments later, once they were seated, when Jessica fixed Lawrence with a firm look and said, “This may come as a strange question, but are you entirely attached to your lady wife?”

Lawrence blinked at Jessica, no idea what she meant by a question like that.

His startlement made him slow to answer, and as had happened many times in the past, Jessica lost patience with the time it took for him to gather his thoughts and pushed on before he could speak.

“Lady Minerva is extraordinarily odd,” she said, frowning as if she was sharing an important, if unfortunate, truth. “I do not believe you have done yourself any favors by attaching yourself to her.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lawrence asked, an iron knot forming in his stomach.

“She is strange, Lawrence,” Jessica said, as if she were speaking to a child. “I have been informed that she is in possession of a human skull that she treats as a pet.”

“Yes, Clarence,” Lawrence said with a frown.

Jessica blinked at him. For a moment, she eyed him as though he were a dangerous animal who might bite. Then she rested a hand on his forearm, and said, “You were never an adequate judge of character, but I think you may have done yourself a real harm by marrying a woman like that.”

The way she spoke, with such sourness and arrogance, twisted the knot in Lawrence’s gut. “Lady Minerva is unusual, to be sure,” he said.

Before he could continue to sing Minerva’s praises and to say she was the most beautiful and interesting woman he had ever known, Jessica rushed over him with, “Yes, precisely.” She patted his arm sharply. “You are a fool, Lawrence,” she said as if stating fact. “Everyone knows that you border on being simple. I did not think you would do something so foolish as to marry a madwoman, though. Is it a matter of income? Is she an heiress of some sort who has provided you with an ample dowry? Because the appeal cannot be in her person or appearance. Who is she mourning at any rate? A father? A mother? Her skin is so pale and there is nothing fashionable at all about her carriage.”

Lawrence was stunned speechless by the viciousness of Jessica’s observations. He could only sit there, gaping at the woman for being so catty.

Which, of course, only furthered Jessica’s belief that he himself was mentally incompetent.

“Really, Lawrence,” she said, shaking her head and withdrawing her arm. “I would have thought that your family would take better care of you. You are not so far gone as to be inneed of an asylum, but surely one of your kinsmen would offer you a place in their house so that they could watch over you.”

Lawrence merely stared at Jessica. He was as incredulous as she was, but for a drastically different reason. He could not believe that he had ever found the woman desirable in any way. Worse still, it was not as though he’d never noticed her unkindness and sharp dealings with others before. He’d known she was opinionated and prickly, but she had once been beautiful, and he’d let himself be swayed by that.

Now, however, not even Jessica’s fading beauty could persuade him to have any feelings toward her but revulsion. She was nothing like Minerva, that much was certain. Minerva may have been approaching forty and no longer in the bloom of youth, but she was still beautiful. Perhaps more so for the touches of silver that had already found their way into her dark hair.

Minerva was lively and clever. She did not care what others thought of her or what thetondictated a woman of fashion should be like. She was unapologetically herself, and Lawrence adored her for it. He adored her wild and sometimes macabre imagination. He found her conversation constantly surprising and filled with new ideas. He imagined that even were she twice as old as she was now, she would be one of those timeless beauties whose inner glow defied every wrinkle and whisp of silver that changed her appearance from what it once had been.

“I am happy,” he said at last, forming the wealth of thoughts running riot in his head and heart into those simple words. “I am happier than I have ever been when I am with her.”

It came as a gentle shock, but not an unwelcome one. His luck with love had always been terrible bordering on comedic, but somehow, he’d suddenly stumbled into perfection.

Jessica did not share his view of the situation. She fixed him with a sympathetic smile, as though he’d just admitted he wasafflicted with consumption and his days were numbered. “Of course you are, dear,” she said, patting his arm condescendingly.

Lawrence was spared from his impulse to say something rude to Jessica when Minerva swept back into the room, nearly running, a bright, triumphant smile on her face. Lawrence stood right away and turned to her, like a flower to the sun. Or perhaps the moon.

“Lady Jessica, I am to inform you that your cook simply will not wait and requests that we make our way to the dining room at once, as luncheon will be laid out, whether anyone is there to eat it or not,” Minerva said, hurrying to Lawrence’s side.

Jessica huffed and shook her head. “This is intolerable,” she said, starting for the door. “I shall see to the matter at once. But it may be safe to say that we will have to continue this tour after our repast.”

“Whatever you think best,” Lawrence said.

He started out of the room after her, but Minerva tightened her grip on his arm, holding him back.

As soon as Jessica had left the library, Minerva spun to him and whispered, “I’ve discovered the location of your statue.” Her entire countenance glowed with mischief.

“You have?” Lawrence asked, his heart beating wildly, not so much because of their mission, but because Minerva was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen when she was up to no good.

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