“Private car?” asked Lily, looking at Roen and not at her son. Roen had the same stillness of expression as she did. “And she’s here? In Frost Falls.”
“Uh-huh. At the Butterworth. Made a fuss, Frankie says, about not getting the suite, but Mr. Butterworth gave it to afamily when she didn’t show up to claim it. Guess she’s staying for a while. Frankie thinks so anyway.”
Roen asked, “Did she give Frankie something for his trouble?”
“Yeah, she did. Frankie said you could have knocked him over, she was that generous.”
“Keeping him on a leash,” Roen said under his breath.
“What?” asked Clay.
“Nothing. A stray thought.”
“Oh, yeah. I have those all the time.”
“You know what’s good for that? Cod liver oil.”
Clay made a face that brought laughter back to the table, and they finished the meal with pleasant banter and no more flying dumplings.
Lily joined Roen in the workroom after she and Hannah had finished clearing the table and washing the dishes. It was curious not to find him hunched over his maps or his notebook or even cleaning the lens on the telescope. He had a pencil behind his ear, but she couldn’t see one in his hand. His arms were folded across chest, and he was leaning back in the chair with his legs stretched under the table. It could have been the posture of a relaxed man, but Lily knew better now. She was able to observe the fine thread of tension pulling his body taut.
He opened his eyes when she closed the door behind her, but he didn’t force a smile. Instead, he blew out a breath. “So,” he said. “She’s here.”
“Yes.” Lily walked to where he was sitting and lifted herself onto the edge of the table and braced her arms. Her feet dangled inches above the floor. “Will you see her?”
“Not tonight, but eventually, yes.”
“Don’t leave it until too late. I’d rather she didn’t arrive here first looking for you. Now that she’s in Frost Falls, she only has to pose a single question to find you.”
“Tomorrow morning,” he said. “I’ll call on her tomorrow morning.”
“Good.”
Roen unfolded his arms and laid a hand on her knee. He squeezed it reassuringly. “No, it’s not good, but it has to be done.”
Lily looked down at his hand. He had long fingers, beautifully crafted to hold a paintbrush, wield a chisel, or run scales on a grand piano, none of which he said he could do with better than a mediocre result. She’d assumed he was being modest, but then she came to know him better and realized he was merely being truthful. He was not particularly humble about his aptitude for calculation, his skill for capturing detail in pencil, or visualizing the lay of the land in three dimensions where it existed on a map in only two. He was merely honest about the talents he didn’t possess.
Lily lifted her eyes to his and was glad when he didn’t take it as an indication he was supposed to remove his hand. “Did your family approve of Miss Headley?” If he found the question an odd leap, he didn’t say so.
Instead, he asked, “Before or after she shot me?”
Lily gave him a withering look.
“All right,” he said, chuckling. “My parents thought she was an uninspiring choice. My mother had no interest in painting her, and my father told me he could not be induced to sculpt her in wet sand, let alone in marble. Artemis made all the proper noises about how perfect she was for me, but I believe I told you that Victorine supports the opera and that Artemis relishes harassing me, so her judgment is suspect. Apollonia was in Europe and never met her. Rand was the most complimentary. He thought I didn’t deserve her, which I later came to believe was true, though not in the way he meant it.”
“Do you think they know she’s here?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t tell them about her telegram.”
“Have you told them you’re married?”
“No, not yet. It would not be out of character for them to rally and descend on us. I thought we should give ourselves time.”
Lily’s nod was barely perceptible.
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Do you think I should have already told them?”
“I, um, no. I suppose not. We married with an end in mind.”
