Why were they being so maddeningly calm? They ought to be berating her for her foolishness. “I’m sorry. I never meant to read so long ... just a few pages more, and now I’ve left you to sit here for hours and hours and—” She gasped. “Stars, we haven’t had dinner! Or lunch. Or teatime. We completely missed teatime. Oh, poor Mum, you must be famished.”
“Not in the least, ducky. While you were engaged with your book, Mr. Arthur escorted me to this lovely little restaurant and saw that I was well taken care of.”
Clara’s mind reeled. “He did?” Her voice waned as she addressed Mr. Arthur. “Y-you did?”
After setting a ten of clubs atop a matching jack, Mr. Arthurmet her with a direct gaze and matter-of-fact tone. “I couldn’t let our beloved Mrs. S. go hungry, now could I?”
Our beloved?“But Grand’s clue...”
Mr. Arthur nudged one of the carpetbags with his leather boot. “Apprehended and stored with the others shortly after our arrival.”
They’d been in possession of Grand’s clue all this time? “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because, Miss Stanton, you looked so ... happy. Smiling like a schoolgirl who’d slipped away from her austere governess to pick wildflowers. Drosselmeyer would’ve boxed my ears if I’d put a stop to the first bit of fun you’d had since we left London, so I had a chat with the library’s rather amiable custodian, and here we are.”
“We thought it best to let you be, ducky. For as long as you’d let yourself be.” Mum rubbed noses with Freddy. “All three of us.”
Clara shook her head, utterly flabbergasted.
Mr. Arthur smiled at her then, mustache and chin whiskers tilting upward in their accustomed way, and for the first time in their acquaintance, his lopsided grin failed to irritate her.
CHAPTER
16
Clara simply couldn’t puzzle out the man with the mechanical leg and steadfast smile. No amount of rumination made sense of him. He was an anomalous grouping of stars that refused to form a cohesive constellation. A foreign city she couldn’t map. Oh, how she tried, though.
As she dined at a quaint restaurant in Old Town, Clara stared at the man conversing with Mum and Fred. She studied and thought, she analyzed and examined. She dissected his every action for logical motivation. Why had Mr. Arthur put himself in harm’s way to recover Mum’s purse? Why hadn’t he stolen from them when given the chance? Why had he let her read for hours on end without complaint? Why had he tended to Mum’s needs in her stead?
Could any man—other than Papa and Grand—truly be so selfless and kind?
Dusk tucked the sun in for the night, and the candles placed throughout the restaurant glowed all the brighter, each little flame undulating in a dance all its own as wax pooled anddripped. Clara enjoyed another bite ofvepro knedlo zelo, the regional dish Mr. Arthur had recommended. The tender pork loin roasted in onion and caraway gravy, then served over sauerkraut, was every bit as delicious as he’d promised. She dipped the last piece ofknedlíky, a boiled bread dumpling, into the gravy and savored the final morsel’s warmth.
Mr. Arthur, now cradling Fred as though he were a newborn babe, broke into a lilting song with a baritone voice that was endearingly out of tune. “La-la-lu, la-la-lu...”
And now the man sings lullabies to ermine.Yet another random star that failed to create a clear pattern in the befuddled firmament. Mum began to harmonize with Mr. Arthur, each taking a turn with improvised lyrics that somehow flowed together without rehearsal.
Clara couldn’t help but smile at the pair. At him. How could she not, when Mr. Arthur showed Mum such unwavering respect, such earnest affection?“I couldn’t let our beloved Mrs. S. go hungry, now could I?”
Another voice, from long ago, invaded her musings.“I couldn’t possibly allowyour mother to visit my offices. Not so long asshe insists on wearing that animal. One whiff of vermincould do irrevocable damage to my business. You understand, don’t you, darling?”
Her smile fell. Yes ... at last she was beginning to. Mr. Arthur really wasnothinglike Mr. Forrester. Instead of conspiring to use her family to save his own skin, Mr. Arthur put himself at risk and fought on their behalf. He didn’t steal, spy, or wreak havoc when her back was turned. He restored, protected, and took care. Heavens above, what was she to do with this?
A waiter interrupted the lullaby, carrying a plate of the dessert Mr. Arthur had requested.Vetrník—puffed choux pastries baked a golden brown, enhanced by a sheen of caramel icing, and filled with swirls of cream.
As the waiter took his leave, Mr. Arthur sought her gaze. “Care to have the first selection, Miss Stanton?”
Clara pursed her lips. Perhaps ... perhaps the most sensible thing to do was simply to declare a truce. Give Mr. Arthur the chance he was due. “That’s very kind, sir. Thank you.” She infused as much feeling as she dared into those small words of gratitude and hoped it would amend their belated utterance. Hoped he would perceive the interwoven apology.
With a smile that spoke of understanding, Mr. Arthur nudged the plate in her direction, extending her a fresh start sweetened with caramel. Solidifying their truce, Clara selected thevetrníkwith the most filling.
Now that she’d replenished her strength, it was time to undertake a puzzle she might actually be able to piece together. “Might I have a look at the clue from the Klementinum, Mr. Arthur?”
“Right-oh. Perhaps you can figure out where it leads, ’cause I’m stumped as an oak felled for kindling.” After rummaging through the carpetbag at his feet, Mr. Arthur placed the object on the table—an automaton moth.
Clara held the contraption to nearby candlelight. Almost weightless, the mechanical moth was life-size and fit neatly in her palm. The body appeared to be crafted from brass, including its dainty legs and antennae. Delicate wings were inlaid with enamel to create a distinct pattern of bright pink along the edges and yellow toward the center, each accented with a pair of symmetrical white spots. Interesting that Grand had taken such care with the details of color and pattern. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason. “Mum, do you recognize this moth?”
“We’re not personally acquainted, but I’m familiar with the species. Read about it in an entomology journal when it was discovered just two years ago. It’s called a pink star moth and is native to the eastern portion of the United States.”
