“Nothing that will be of any use, I’m afraid.”
“No? And I dearly hoped otherwise. My word, look at this strange being. Is it feline or canine?”
We stopped before the hyena’s enclosure, and the creature set up such a strange noise that it made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. I jumped… almost into William’s arms. “What a hideous sound!”
“Be easy,” he murmured close to my ear, making me shiver all over again. “The animal’s noise is precisely what I was hoping for.”
I rolled my eyes over my shoulder at the odd-looking creature, walking around with its jaws open and emitting the most blood-chilling laughter I had ever heard. “Speak for yourself.”
“Yes, it is high time for that, is it not?” He drew out his pocket watch and then replaced it after a brief inspection. “While you were speaking with Chantrey—and not precisely alone, if you recall, for his assistant was present—I asked to be shown to a retiring room for a moment. On my way back to find you, I took the liberty of a brief tour of the building.”
I blinked. “And?”
“And I found a young student who had more knowledge than common sense. He was pleased to show me some of the more notable exhibits currently warehoused in an apartment behind the housekeeper’s chambers.”
“Ah,” I breathed. “Did you find anything… ah… interesting?”
“Indeed, I did. About fifty crates, with the contents all boxed up for transport back to the artists who had crafted them and invisible to the eye.”
I sagged. “So it could be anywhere?”
“It could be. But my young friend was proud to point out one new arrival that was due to be unpacked and inspected by…” His head lifted, and I realized only then how close we were standing. “Miss Bennet, have you ever beheld an ostrich up close?”
My gaze followed his. We were no longer alone with the quadrupeds, as the people from the next room had come in after us. He captured my hand and placed it on his elbow himself, tipping his hat to the man at the door who was there to check our admission. A moment later, we were camped before a noisy cage of curious birds.
“You were saying?” I asked.
“I will cut to the heart of it. Yes, I believe I have found your sculpture, and it is still not unpacked. You are in luck, for the, er, ‘person’ who purchased it left precise instructions that no one should open the crate until he returns.”
“And when will that be?”
“It could be as soon as tomorrow, but I have reason to think it will be at least another day. Miss Elizabeth, I believe we can do this.”
I wetted my lips, nodding eagerly. “Yes? What, precisely, are we going to do?”
Seventeen
Darcy
Iwasmad.
Or lost.
Perhaps a little of both. But when Elizabeth Bennet looked at me that way, with the little wrinkle of amusement at the edge of her mouth, the light catching her eyes, and her lips so softly parted in anticipation, I think I would have leaped into that lion’s den for her.
What I proposed, though, was insanity. No one in their right mind would attempt it.
“Let us go now!” she cried. “Why take the chance of waiting until tomorrow?”
Trust her not to cower in fear.
“Because,” I answered in my most reasonable voice, “I am waiting on someone else. All in—”
“Good time, yes, I know.” She sighed, her shoulders drawing up in resolve. “And what do I do while you are fussing with the sculpture?”
“Why, I thought we covered that. You are an aspiring artist seeking employment with one of the most admired sculptors of our time.”
“But he told me himself that he has never employed a female and was not terribly inclined to do so now. It was only on the strength of some Earl of Matlock’s commendation that he even planned to grant me a trial, but I do not know any such earl!”
