We heard him speaking to someone, then he returned and beckoned us into an apartment that looked purpose built for the instruction of future artists. It was nearly bursting at the seams with castings and busts, all manner of antique artifacts brought there for study. A work table graced the center, with the famous bust of Horne Tooke in the middle. And bent over that was the slightly balding figure of its creator, Francis Chantrey. He looked up as we entered.
“Ah, Miss Trenton. I understand you have applied to join us as an assistant. I regret the Academy does not accept the applications of female students at present, but if your talents meet with my expectations, I may still consider bringing you on. You come with excellent commendations. Now let me hear of you. Where did you learn your craft?”
Elizabeth blinked, and her lower lip trembled. Then her gaze slid to me, just for an instant. She meant to make me pay for this. But if she could get through the next few minutes, I would happily render whatever price she demanded.
Elizabeth
“Doyoumeantotell me what this was all about? Why did you tell him I was a sculptor? And why did you walk away, leaving me alone with him for ten minutes?”
William smiled and tipped his hat to someone we passed, never averting his eyes from the street. “We needed a way into the building, and it is not the season for public displays. You do not think they just let the doors swing wide for anyone, do you?”
“But what am I to do now? He expects me to return tomorrow, ready to start on sample work for him!”
“I should think it was quite obvious. We return tomorrow, when you will roll up your sleeves and muck about with some clay.”
I caught his elbow, none too gently. “I don’t know the first thing about clay!”
“I doubt that very much.”
A shiver went down my spine, and I lifted my eyes to his. Exactly how much did he know? Had he somehow discovered Papa’s little secret? My mouth was moving, but I made only vague gasps.
He glanced at me, raised a brow, then looked beyond me to the building we were approaching. “Ah, here we are—Exeter Exchange. Do you suppose Miss Bennet and Bingley are already upstairs viewing the animals?” He turned us toward the building. Obviously, not intending to answer yet.
I sucked in my breath and bit down on my tongue.One… Two… Three…
Oh, it was no good. I couldn’t go upstairs and smile at Jane like all would be well when I hardly knew which way I was pointed from one moment to the next. This was positively the most bewildering man I had ever met! I yanked him back. “Will you tell mewhatyou are planning?”
“Indeed. But not here. Come, Miss Bennet. I hear they have a new tiger.”
“Tiger,” I grumbled, falling into step beside him. “I’ll show you a tiger…”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He paid out four shillings to the man at the door, granting us access to all three rooms of the menagerie. “Come, Miss Bennet. Have you seen the elephant yet?”
I studied him doubtfully, but he offered his arm, and the way he looked at me… it was as if I could breathe again. Without even saying a word, he seemed to be reassuring me. I had no rational cause in the world to trust him, but sometimes the heart knows what the mind does not.
Apart from that, he had the most irresistible dimples when he smiled.
I closed my eyes, laughing to myself. Someday, I would probably regret all this. But for now, the only thing I felt sure of was that this burglar was the safest person in the world for me to trust.
I gave him my arm, and we climbed the stairs to the first room. At one end towered an elephant, just as William had said. And there were Jane and Mr. Bingley, letting the elephant reach through the bars and take Mr. Bingley’s hat off his head with its enormous trunk. Jane offered her handkerchief, and the elephant replaced Mr. Bingley’s hat to take the bit of white lace from her hand and dab his face with it. They were both laughing so hard they failed to notice us.
“Come,” William said, tugging me by the hand. “The upper floor is better.”
“But we have not seen the big cats. What about the tiger? You said the elephant—”
He sighed. “Miss Bennet, I despise being ambiguous, but will you trust me for half a moment? It would delight me beyond measure.”
I looked at him—that cryptic smile, the richly rebellious curls of his hair peeking from under his hat, the eyes that seemed to beg me to lean in and drink from those dark pools. My skin flushed, and my pulse quickened. Slowly, I nodded. And I followed him.
This time, as we climbed the stairs, his hand fell to rest at my waist as if he were supporting me. And it was… rather nice. He took no liberties, but his touch was sure, gentle, and comforting. It almost felt like I imagined love might feel—caring, protective. Maybe even affectionate.
My imagination tends to run away with me.
William glanced to the right, where a group was gathered in the room housing the ostrich and the cassowary and other birds. He guided me to the left, toward the quadrupeds. “I have always fancied the hyena. Oh, my! Look at that striped horse. Should you like to ride that, Miss Bennet?”
“I do not ride horses at all,” I answered primly. “Papa never taught me.”
He looked down at me with a challenging smile. “A sad omission. Someone ought to remedy that. May I ask, whatdidyour father teach you?”
