Page 23 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
“Are you quite all right?” Penelope asked, alarmed.
“I . . . I had the most peculiar feeling, once I mentioned the cake,” Hope confessed. “I shall be fine, I think, if I just sit here quietly for a moment.”
Penelope held her silence as the carriage tooled on. The countess, however, grew paler still and her mouth began to purse up a bit.
“My lady,” she said softly. “Are you unwell?”
“It’s no good,” Hope gasped. “Where are we?”
She had to peer outside. “High Holborne. We just passed Bow Street. Oh! Is thattheBow Street?”
“Yes. Fine. Good. Stick your head outside, will you, my dear, and tell the coachman to turn south toward Leister Square? But take Gerrard Street, north of the square. Number 9.”
The countess held on until the coach finally pulled over, but when she climbed out, she promptly turned away and was sick in the street. The footman looked wildly at Penelope and she could only shrug in answer. “Where are we?” she asked him, low, while she held the countess’s shoulders.
Hope straightened and took the kerchief she offered. “Sterne has his rooms in this building. I’ll just rest here a bit, shall I?”
* * *
In the end,Sterne and Whiddon did beat Mr. Goodson to Tensford House, but likely not early enough to suit Tensford’s cook.
The geologist barely noticed the food in front of him, however. He and Tensford were embarked upon a discussion of fossil classifications that even Sterne had to work to follow. He didn’t strain himself, though. He feigned interest, but in reality, he kept one ear trained to the house beyond the breakfast room and wondered if the ladies meant to join them.
When a footman offered to freshen his cup, he quietly asked if the ladies had already breakfasted.
“Very early, indeed, sir,” the servant whispered. They left the house some time ago.”
Staring into his coffee, he felt disappointment settle into his gut. He let it swirl there for a moment before he berated himself. Everything he’d said to Whiddon this morning was true. Miss Munroe was ripe for marriage. He was in no way settled enough to offer it. Seeing her, spending time in her presence, was delicious torture. And he wanted more of it, though he knew it was bad for him. Even though he’d sworn off it.
“Isn’t that right, Sterne?”
He started. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“I was telling Mr. Goodson that Stillwater, who is indeed a member of the Geological Society, has been collecting fossils for years.”
“It’s true,” Sterne confirmed. “Although I’ve always thought it odd that he would not share even a glimpse of his collection.”
“I don’t know the man, as I told your friend.” The geologist nodded to Whiddon, who, ignoring the scientific talk completely, was reading a newspaper. “He’s never come to any of our sponsored events. But after Lord Whiddon asked about him, I did recall that a Mr. Stillwater has written several letters to the board, bemoaning the black market that he believes has sprung up amongst certain enthusiasts.”
“Surely he doesn’t believe the Society would condone such a thing?”
“He seems to think we should be taking stronger steps against it. Although, to be sure, I’m not sure what we could do. Of course, no scholar would indulge in thievery of artifacts, or pay to obtain stolen specimens. True men of science have more character than that—and it is knowledge that we seek.”
“As well as the thrill of the hunt,” Tensford added. “Or I should more accurately say, the anticipation that livens the tedium of the hunt, until we experience the thrill of the find.”
“Very true.” Mr. Goodson’s expression lost focus for a moment. “There’s nothing like that moment of discovery.”
“Yes, but not everyone in the field feels the same way,” Sterne said. “There are men, even in your Society, who would classify themselves as collectors. It’s not scholarship or even the hunt that motivates them—it is possession of the specimens.”
Goodson frowned in disapproval. “It’s a sad fact, in truth. Shameful, but we do indeed have a few members who could be described in such a way.” Realization dawned in his gaze as he looked to the earl. “And you believe it is someone like that who has stolen your specimen?”
Tensford shrugged. “It’s a likely possibility.”
Sterne could see the man growing uncomfortable. “Have you seen the sketches of Tensford’s find? It’s quite unlike anything else I’ve seen.”
The man brightened instantly. “I have not, but I should love to.” He looked to the earl. “Unless you would rather not share them?”
“I’d be happy to.” Tensford stood. “Come to my study and I’ll have them brought down.”
