Page 21 of Betrayal from Beyond
Relief washed over her when he nodded his agreement. “That was my thought exactly.”
*
Kara wished tohold an immediate meeting and begin planning right away, but Niall convinced her to wait until Gyda returned. His friend and assistant had seen Turner this morning—and teased him mercilessly—before going into London once more. She had spoken of a meeting between Lord Charles Osbourne and some of her friends in the city’s artistic community.
Grumbling, Kara agreed to wait. She went to wash away the smell of smoke before she settled at her desk, writing a growing stack of letters. She sent them out with a courier, grouched a little more upon learning Gyda was still away, then retreated to her rooms with her maid, Elsie. While she kept busy working on her converted skirts, adjusting them for ease of movement and adding hidden pockets for useful implements, Niall retreated to the study, where he went through the post and sent out a few more private messages.
Feeling restless afterward, he collected Harold and went out to the forge. His arm had been injured on their last adventure, at his new estate in Scotland. It was recovering, and the bridal trip had provided a nice rest for the healing muscles, but it was time he started getting it back in working condition, and since he needed a distraction…now was as good a time as any.
“Put your mind to work,” he told Harold as he set about forging long stems and leaves for the wetland-inspired project. “I’d like to get some real texture on the cattail heads we mean to put in the foreground.”
“How about we heat them and take a wire brush to them?” the boy suggested. He was shaping tree branches at his own, smaller anvil.
“That will work, but I’ve a mind to make it more realistic. I’m turning it about in my head, and I hoped you would do the same.”
Harold nodded and went back to work.
After a couple of hours, Niall’s arm began to ache. He called a halt and took Harold back to the house so they could both bathe. Niall was just finishing up and getting dressed when Stayme burst in.
“It’s not as strong as we might have hoped for, but it’s something,” he said, waving a paper.
Niall took it with a questioning look.
“It’s the report you requested,” Stayme explained.
Niall read it over, frowning deeply as he went further. “Odin’s arse, but people can be the very devil, can’t they?”
“So they can, but at least we can use it against him.”
“Yes. Put it together with the other information we’ve gathered, and it might do the trick.” He glanced out the window at the afternoon light. “Where the hell is Gyda?”
“Must we wait for her?” Stayme grumbled.
Niall shrugged. “It’s too late to make this particular call, in any case.”
“If she doesn’t return by morning, we should move ahead,” the viscount insisted. “The timing regarding the man’s request to the Crown is crucial.”
Niall agreed, but in the end, it wasn’t necessary. Gyda returned to Bluefield late that evening. She blew in lookingbreathless and happy, just as Niall convinced his wife to sit down with him in the parlor.
“Niall! Kara! It’s so exciting! It’s happening!”
Kara sat up straighter. “Here you are at last! What’s happening?”
“Charles has found a suitable space. He can move ahead with his plans!”
“Plans?” asked Niall.
“It’s all coming together.” Gyda dropped onto the settee with a happy sigh. She grinned at Stayme as he entered and closed the door behind him. “I told you that Charles is very interested in the idea of craftsmanship and creation. He wants to establish a museum dedicated to the creative process, to the design and construction of both art and functional objects, even industrial works. He believes it all has beauty and value. He believes that artists, craft masters, and inventors should be celebrated. He wants to display selected works and also incorporate an interactive element to the place as well, so that ordinary people might see creation in progress—just as you did, Kara, when you worked on your automatons at your spot in the Great Exhibition.”
“The attendees were fascinated seeing her at work,” Niall said.
“Exactly!” Gyda said. “People might be inspired. Who knows what might come of it? At the very least, they might become more appreciative, seeing the artistic or inventive process in action. Charles has been in contact with various critics, masters, and artists. I told him that you might put him in the way of inventors or industrial specialists, Kara.” She turned to Niall. “And you will never guess just who Charles means to work with.”
He raised a questioning brow.
“Your friend—Ansel Wells. Did you know that he has opened a gallery?”
“What? No. How?” It hadn’t been so long since Niall had spent a few nights on Ansel’s sofa, in his suited-to-a-starving-artist single-room flat.
