“Do be careful, sweeting. You heard the attendant—we mustn’t touch anything,” she reminded as he bent low to examine a cluster of magenta-striped leaves. “And watch your step when we move through the potted trees . . .”
She stopped short on seeing a flutter of movement through the foliage. A gentleman came around the corner of the walkway, head bent in study of the papers in his hands. He looked up over the top of his gold-rimmed spectacles as Charlotte cleared her throat, a look of mild surprise on his patrician face.
“I do hope we aren’t intruding, sir,” she added quickly. “The attendant did say we were permitted to enter and have a look at the specimens collected by Sir Joseph Banks.”
“Yes, yes, they are open to the public, though I don’t usually see visitors here at this hour,” he replied.
She smiled and gestured to Hawk—who thankfully hadn’t yet covered his new clothing in muck. “My ward was so excited about the visit that he was up before dawn.”
“Ah—it’s always a pleasure to see a young man interested in botany.” The gentleman turned his gaze on Hawk, his silvery brows arching as he spotted the two books and pencil in the boy’s hand. “Are you taking notes, lad?”
“I’m making some drawings, sir,” answered Hawk.
“Indeed? Might I have a look?”
Hawk looked uncertain, but Charlotte gave him an encouraging nod.
“Why, these are quite good,” murmured the gentleman, after studying several of the sketches. “Are you familiar with the drawings of Franz Bauer?”
“N-No, sir.”
“Oh, you must see some of his work. He’s a master of botanical art, and worked closely here at the Royal Botanic Gardens with Sir Joseph some years ago. There’s a cabinet close by that contains a selection of his work.”
He paused as a clerk hurried in with a sheaf of papers. “Your pardon, Mr. DeVere, but I just wanted to confirm that I may send your article to the Royal Society for its upcoming journal.”
DeVere. Charlotte felt her breath catch in her throat.
“Yes, yes, all is in order,” replied DeVere with a brusque wave. As the man scurried away, he turned back to Hawk. “Come, I’ll show you, and I can point out some of the most exotic specimens in the collection along the way.” He looked to Charlotte. “Assuming that is agreeable to you?”
“Why, how very kind of you, sir,” answered Charlotte, deciding to make no mention of her name or her acquaintance with his ward. “That would be lovely.”
“Excellent.” He placed a hand on Hawk’s shoulder. “This way.”
Charlotte fell in step behind them, followed by McClellan, who dutifully maintained a respectful distance.
DeVere stopped by a raised planting bed enclosed in glass and began to identify the specimens to a wide-eyed Hawk. As he explained their history and significance, she found her mind wandering.
Despite her resolve to put all thoughts of investigation aside for this interlude, the unexpected encounter with DeVere was an all-too-sharp reminder of the conundrums within conundrums threatening her cousin.
And her friends.
Moving to the bank of brass-framed glass windows, Charlotte stared out at the idyllic scene. How could everything look so calm and peaceful when her world felt as if it was on the verge of smashing to flinders?
Her brooding deepened as she considered her last conversation with Sheffield. She was unhappy at having disillusioned him.Damnation—she liked Cordelia, too, but it was impossible to ignore how the facts added up.
What were the odds that there weretwowomen venturing out disguised as gentlemen?
Or rather,threewomen. A wry grimace pulled at Charlotte’s mouth. Though dressed in her usual urchin’s rags, she would never be mistaken for a gentleman.
She sighed, her breath momentarily fogging the glass. In truth, such masquerades probably happened far more often than people realized. There were so many interesting places and events forbidden to women—prizefights, taverns, university lectures . . . the list was endless. It was only natural that any female with a sense of curiosity and adventure would chafe against such restrictions. And those with a devil-may-care courage, to go along with their imagination, had likely dared to take the risk.
After all, it was now known that women disguised as Jack Tars had fought in the gun crews at the Battle of Trafalgar . . .
A shuffling on the bricks drew her back to the present moment. “Now, if you come this way, lad, we’ll have a look at Bauer’s art. I assure you, it’s magnificent.”
Charlotte made herself stay focused for the rest of the tour. It wasn’t hard, as the drawings were indeed spectacular. Shepreferred the nuances of the human face, but Bauer managed to create an aura of individuality to each of his plants.
Hawk’s murmurs of admiration and shy questions earned a look of approval from DeVere. “You have a keen eye and an impressive knowledge for a lad of your age.” To Charlotte, he said, “It seems you’ve engaged an excellent tutor.”
