Several moments passed before Gabriel spoke again. “How exactly does one become an assistant phrenologist?”
Gutt exhaled a noisy rush of air, and the muscle just above his cravat twitched. “Years ago I attended one of Bauer’s lectures. I then became a student. And now . . .”
Gabriel let the man’s words fade completely before speaking. “Surely after years you must be able to practice as a phrenologist yourself.”
He scoffed. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
“Do you always agree with him? Bauer’s assessments?”
Irritation contorted the young man’s features, and perspiration dotted his brow. Whatever they had been discussing had quitean effect. “As with most behavioral theories, techniques can vary from assessor to assessor.”
Gabriel needed to tread lightly. Gutt seemed willing to talk, but Gabriel needed to establish some sort of relationship before he could expect Gutt to trust him with information. “Will you go on the hunt tomorrow?”
Gutt propped his hands akimbo and looked out at the other guests. “I’m no horseman. I’ll stay here.”
“You needn’t be a horseman; you just need to keep your seat.”
But the young man seemed in no humor.
Gabriel continued to chat with Gutt until the guests began to disperse. He was on the right track. He would simply need to be patient.
Ella clipped a spent bloom from the plant before her. Then another.
Night had fully fallen. Slivers of silver moonlight filtered through the glass panels in the ceiling and fell on the plants and trees growing within.
For the first time since she’d awoken that morning, the tension in her shoulders eased. Perhaps it was the conservatory’s solitude or the simple diversion of a task, but in here she could close her eyes and imagine the sun’s warmth on a peaceful afternoon and forget the worries plaguing her.
She lifted the potted milky-white gardenia from her worktable, moved it to where it belonged, and picked up another plant with fragrant purple flowers. As she did, footsteps tapped against the plank floor of the parlor just outside the conservatory. She glanced up to see Mr. Rowe standing in the doorway. The candlelightcaught his strong features as he entered, highlighting the straight bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips. “What’s that you’re working on?”
She wiped her hands on her apron and looked to the plant in question. “Pruning. I fear I’ve neglected some of them since the guests started arriving.”
He drew closer and nodded to the pot before her. “It’s a pretty flower. What is it? I don’t know if I’ve seen it before.”
“Matthiola longipetala,” she stated confidently. “Otherwise known as night-scented stock. It only blooms in the evening.”
He smoothed his fingertip over the delicate lilac-hued petals. “Beautiful.”
“The flower closes during the day,” she explained. “Its fragrance is strongest in the evening to attract nocturnal insects.”
“And those big white flowers?” He pointed to an indoor arbor on the far wall. “Over there?”
She smiled, happy to talk about something other than phrenology—and happy to have someone to talk to about it. “That isIpomoea alba. The moonflower. Isn’t it magnificent?”
“There are so many of them!” He propped his hands on his hips as he looked to the ceiling where the vines were wrapping around the support beams.
“Those only open at night and close during the day as well. If I’m not careful, this plant would readily engulf every inch of this conservatory.”
Ella would have been content to continue discussing the flowers, but Mr. Rowe’s expression sobered, and she prepared for a shift in the topic.
He cleared his throat. “I was trying to read your expression tonight at the reading.”
“And what did you think of my expression?”
“I can’t say you looked comfortable.”
“Was it that obvious?” she quipped, returning to her task of pruning to avoid eye contact. “I really did try to be objective.”
He rounded the table to stand at its edge. “Oh, objectivity. Isn’t it clear the entire purpose of the evening was mere entertainment? From where I sat everyone was happy. People heard what they wanted to hear, and Bauer played to the vanity of the masses.”
