“Yes.But this is also a piece of information that no one else has here, that you aren’t allowed to tell anyone.”It’s a bit of future knowledge, but I need to distract him from my personal story.
“I do love a bit of gossip.All right, what is it?”
“All of these sculptures”—I lean closer as I indicate the Parthenon frieze and pediments, and the galleries beyond that hold antiquities—“would have all been colorfully painted back in the classical period.”I cross my arms now that the bombshell is dropped.
“No!Everyone knows white sculptures are a sign of antiquity.We decorate our houses with replica white marble sculptures.”
“Now they’re white, but back in the day, the Greeks and Romans liked things painted.Brightly.Garishly.”
Leo looks at me like I said the sky was green, then back at the art, getting closer like he can see remnants of paint.“How do you know that?”
“Ummm…” I can’t very well tell him I know that because someone used a high intensity UV light on them in the future.“Some people have seen traces of paint on things that are coming out of the ground right now.Before they’re ‘cleaned’ by archaeologists and museums.And they’re suggesting that it’s not dirt; it’s paint.”
“That is amazing.I studied classics and no one said a word of it to me.”
“It’s all very new.That’s why you can’t tell anyone.”I shush him.
Leo shakes his head.“Curious,” he says with a slight smile, in that soft tone that says he can’t figure me out.
“You don’t even know the half of it.”And he won’t ever if I have anything to do with it.I’m physically uncomfortable with the fact that he’s being so open with me about his life, and I’m lying to him about every detail of mine, but there’s nothing that can be done about it.
And there’s no reason for him to know the real me, anyway.No matter how much I wish it was different.He just sees me as a unique woman because he’s never met anyone like me, but if he lived in my time, he would realize I’m not special.
“Is there anything else you want to see?”Leo asks.
“I could spend a week in here.”Leo doesn’t look as enamored with that idea as I am.He opens his mouth, but I interrupt him.“But it’s fine.We can leave now.”
“I can bring you back again, if you would like.”
I take his offered arm and then shrug.“There’s a lot to do in London, and I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”Understatement.“I’d like to see as much as I can.And help you, of course.”
And get home, at some point.Somehow.
“Then you will love Hyde Park.There’s history, for my family and London, and it will help both of us, for our future security.”
All of that is true, but I’m nervous about being back in front of large groups of people who make a sport out of tearing people down with a sharp word and some scandal.And me lying about everything, to the queen and everyone, seems like a juicy bit of gossip that no one would leave alone if they found out.
The only person not looking to tear me down is Leo.Only because he sees me as useful now; I doubt he would if he found out the scope of my lying.The sooner I help him, the sooner I can stop spending so much time with him and reduce the danger of discovery.
I’m going to find him the most ethical, richest heiress I can in this city.And then I’m going to smile while he flirts and courts her; I’m going to be gracious.
Even if on the inside, I’m imagining scratching her perfect, kind, intelligent, rich eyes out.
* * *
The weather isnice at the park.Or nice for England; it’s not the Southern California weather I’m used to.But rain is only a suggestion today, in the form of warning gray clouds in the distance instead of a steady presence, so that’s a win.
Leo helps me down from the carriage and then starts the walk next to Rotten Row, Anne trailing an appropriate chaperone distance right behind us.I leave the journal behind, even though every instinct in me wants to pick it up and take notes while we walk.But that’s weird, in this time and my own.
The first half hour of the walk is mostly just exercise.Leo keeps conversation light and the pace average.People look at us with speculation, and a few respond to greetings from Leo, but none stop and chat with us.
The air’s so thick with pollution from the ongoing Industrial Revolution that I can’t stop the cough that bubbles up in reaction.Which can’t be making us more appealing to talk to.
“Leo.Good afternoon!”A laughing brown woman with the same black hair and the same sparkling brown eyes as Leo waves as her giant horse runs at us with no indication that they’ll stop anytime soon.The rider doesn’t seem like she wants to stop anyway, graceful on top of the majestic animal that she moves easily with, curly hair blowing under what I assume is a fashionable hat.
This could be a relative of his.Or a potential heiress.Or both, damn this pervy time.
Leo stands there, like a bowling pin waiting for the ball to knock it over, while the rider and horse approach us.I start to tug at his arm, willing to abandon the man if he wants to get trampled in Hyde Park.But at the last minute, the rider commands the horse to stop, and it does.
