"Do you have any record of the antiquities Ashton purchased in the final months of his life?"
"I imagine so; he kept meticulous records. Why?" I thought back to the receipts I had seen that morning. None had been for antiquities.
"No reason in particular. Did he show you the things he bought?"
"No. I had no idea that he owned such things. You know they were not on display in the town house."
"Of course. He had a splendid gallery in Ashton Hall. You haven't seen it?"
"I've never been to the estate."
"That's rather odd, don't you think?"
"I never really thought about it." I looked at him, wondering where this line of questioning would lead. "We returned to London after our wedding trip, and Philip left almost immediately for Africa."
"Did he ever suggest that you go while he was in Africa?"
"No, quite the contrary. He told me that the house was something of a shambles and suggested that I stay in London."
"Surely you could have directed the servants to prepare the house."
"I cannot imagine why you are so concerned about this, Colin." We began walking again. "I passed the fall with Ivy on her parents' estate. Why would I have wanted to sequester myself in Derbyshire, away from all my friends?"
"Do you remember Ashton shopping for antiquities while you were on your wedding trip?"
"No, I don't."
"Did he ever leave you to conduct business during your travels?"
"Yes, he did. Is that so uncommon?"
"No, but it would be of great assistance to me if you could remember what he was doing."
"I never asked him. Why all these questions? Had Philip discovered some new archaeological secret? Some long-forgotten Greek vase?"
"No, I'm not suggesting any such thing. I'm wondering if he left any unfinished business that should be completed."
"It's awfully late to be considering that, isn't it? Lord Palmer has asked me to look for papers on one of Philip's projects. He plans to edit and publish the material. I imagine that any of Philip's nonacademic business has long since been taken care of by his solicitor."
"What sort of papers are they?"
"They're the draft of a monograph. Why are you so interested?"
"I've already said more than I ought." He paused at Tottenham Court Road. "Shall we turn here or continue in Oxford Street?"
"I thought I would go up Bloomsbury Street," I replied. We walked in silence until we reached Great Russell Street, where Colin deposited me at the entrance to the museum.
"Please excuse my questions if they seemed strange. I only want to help." I watched him rush back to the street and hail a cab. I shook my head, curious to know what on earth had prompted him to become so belatedly concerned with my husband's business affairs. Could Colin have written the notes?
Looking at my watch, I realized that I was late for my rendezvous with Lord Palmer, who had promised to give me his own tour of the Greco-Roman collection. Once inside, I found him quickly; I was a bit let down to see that Arthur Palmer, Arabella Dunleigh, and her mother accompanied him, certain that Arthur would have little to contribute to any discussion of classical artifacts.
"Andrew will be disappointed to have missed this party," Arabella said, smiling at me. She wore what had to be her finest afternoon dress, blue and green stripes of gauze and moiré over yellow taffeta, with fine lace cuffs. I don't know that I had ever seen her look so well turned out.
"My brother prefers to spend the afternoon at his club, my dear," Arthur said with a tone of familiarity that surprised me. I would not have guessed that his relationship with Arabella would progress so quickly.
"Then he must not have realized that Lady Ashton planned to join us," Arabella replied. Clearly Arthur's attentions had put her in a generous mood.
"I didn't tell him because I knew that she hoped for a serious discussion today," Lord Palmer said. "Andrew's presence would have detracted from that, I'm afraid."
"Your son's talents lie elsewhere, Lord Palmer," Mrs. Dunleigh said, smiling broadly.
"Yes, I suppose they do," Lord Palmer answered. "Come now, let's begin our tour." I wanted Lord Palmer to show me some simple inscriptions suitable for me to attempt to translate as I studied with my tutor, since I liked very much the idea of working on a text whose original form I could see in the museum. Alas, the rest of our party forced us to move through the exhibits with more speed than I would have wished.
"I'm afraid that I shouldn't have brought the others," Lord Palmer said to me quietly. "I had hoped that the young people would amuse each other and that Mrs. Dunleigh would be too busy playing chaperone to detract from our plans."
"That's all right, Lord Palmer. It's been a wonderful afternoon." I stopped in front of a blue-and-white cameo-glass vase. "This is lovely. Is it Roman?"
"Yes, early first century A.D., I believe. It is one of the more famous pieces in the museum. It must have been nearly fifty years ago now that some...ah, intoxicated bloke leaned on the case and smashed the vase. As you see, the museum staff have done a capital job of repairing the thing, although, if I remember correctly, they weren't able to make all the pieces fit."
"That reminds me, Lord Palmer, that my lovely bust of Apollo has lost its nose after a too-zealous dusting by a maid. I wonder if Mr. Murray could suggest a restorer for me?"
"I know several qualified chaps who could help you out. I'll send their names to you. I hope your butler reprimanded the maid."
"Well, it is only a copy, but I'm sure that Davis was as severe as necessary with her."
I turned around at the sound of a shriek from Arabella, who had just spotted the vase.
"I like this!" she cried.
"It is nothing more than a standard Wedgwood, my dear," Mrs. Dunleigh said.
"Not quite," Lord Palmer corrected. "It is the piece that inspired innumerable Wedgwood copies, but they were done in jasperware rather than glass. There was a prize offered to anyone who could duplicate it in glass. The chaps who won were so successful that we are now barraged with cameos in all forms."
"I should love to have something so beautiful for my own," Arabella said.
"You could, my dear, for the right price," Arthur said, his uneven teeth marring his smile.
"Oh, I should never want a copy. I'll follow Lord Ashton's example and stick to originals."
"All originals have a price, Arabella, even those in museums." He laughed, and I looked at him, wondering what he could possibly mean by such a statement. Before I could inquire, he took Arabella's arm and whispered something that made her laugh loudly. Mrs. Dunleigh then asked Lord Palmer if we could see the Rosetta Stone, adding that it was the only thing she considered really worthwhile in the museum. I closed my eyes and sighed, realizing that the sooner our excursion ended, the better.
The next few weeks found me in Andrew's company more than ever. He took me to the theater, to dinner, and we walked together in the park frequently. At soirées he brazenly monopolized me, something to which I rarely objected. His sarcastic commentary on the scenes before us was always more entertaining than the polite, nonsensical conversation to which I was accustomed. He possessed a seemingly incompatible way of disregarding some rules of society at the same time as he rigorously upheld others. Nonetheless, he grew more charming with closer acquaintance, and I determined that the rules he chose to uphold were the ones he thought would protect me. A foolish effort, of course, but I appreciated it regardless.
My mother did not entirely approve of my spending so much time with Andrew. She liked his family, of course, but felt that I could do better. In her mind, given my own title and fortune, I should be able to attract the most eligible men in the empire. Andrew was heir to a large estate, but one that included very little cash. The property he stood to inherit would make it easy for him to secure generous lines of credit, and I assumed that this was how he, like many gentlemen, supported his flamboyant lifestyle. This, of course, did not impress my mother. The fact that Andrew and I did not observe the social niceties troubled her greatly, and she admonished me to change my behavior lest I ruin my chances of remarriage. Contrary to her intentions, her concerns served only to encourage me.