“Whatlibrary?” asked John.
“There’s a library in the Artisan quarters of Lavnonshire. The Geoffry Tanner Collection.”
John practically spat at the sound of the name. “Sounds about fuckin’ right.”
Theo shrugged. “Hewasthe one to build it.”
“And name it after himself,” John scoffed.
“Much like one would name a pub after themselves,” Theo muttered.
John narrowed his eyes at Theo as though weighing the consequences of flogging him.
Patrick looked at Nina. “Do you know it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Theo and I studied there a fair few times.”
“Then I’ll go,” Patrick said decisively. “The rest of you will stay here.”
But Nina sighed. “You can’t, Pat—”
“It can’t be anyone else,” he said, already turning away. “Polly will write me instructions on where to go, and what shelf—”
“No, I meant you can’t get into the library, Patrick, not unless you’re an…”
Patrick froze. “A swank?”
She pressed her lips together. Nodded. “They’ll ask to see your Artisan brand at the door.”
“I’ll go myself,” Polly announced. It seemed she’d already made the decision. “I have a brand, and enough anonymity that I shouldn’t draw attention.” She spoke with conviction. “Besides, I know what I’m looking for. It’s quicker this way. Safer.”
Patrick’s eyes stuck to Polly, scrutinizing her.
“It’ll be a big old building with more than a few ways out,” John said. “She’ll take off the second she’s past the door.”
“No,” Patrick countered. “She wants to be on that ship.” He would have laid a bet on it. Whatever it was behind her eyes, she wanted it very badly. “You’ll go in and get the book,” he instructed. “And you’ll get out immediately.”
But she shook her head. “It isn’t that kind of library,” she said. “It’s a protected collection. They don’t allow anyone to remove texts from the premises.”
John groaned. “Lord, you swanks truly have naught in your heads but fumes. If they won’t let you take it, Polly, youstealit.”
“And put it where?” she asked him, holding out her arms to show her tight corset and waistcoat, the constricting waistline of her skirt. “Where do you suggest I hide a nine-hundred-page tome, Mr. Colson?”
“For all I care, you can hide it up your—”
“We can’t smuggle it out without notice. The guards there are hawkeyed,” said Theodore. Some color had returned to his face, the bluff working its magic.
“I’ll have to complete the translation in the library itself,” she said. “There isn’t another way.”
Patrick scrubbed his face. “It never fuckin’ ends,” he muttered to himself, so low no one heard.
“It’d only be a matter of hours,” Polly said. “A single day, at most. And then you’d have your translation.”
Oh, but it was tempting. The thought of having that fucking book decoded by this time tomorrow. He needed to be done with this. The sooner, the better.
“I can go with her,” Theo said now. He pushed down on the arm of the settee and stood, albeit gingerly. “If it eases you.”
Patrick looked at him with dry reprisal. “No, it doesn’t fuckin’easeme, Teddy.”
