A moist warmth immediately enveloped her. The lush perfume of the blooms—floral sweetness mingling with an earthier spice—was a little overpowering. After a small shake to clear her head, she slowly made her way through the towering rows of potted trees, seeking the section of the conservatory that held the smaller specimens.
The glass roof allowed enough light to navigate the narrow walkways between the plantings. Shadows flitted over raised beds and terra-cotta urns, their leafy shapes strangely distorted by the ever-shifting darkness. A steadydrip-drippunctuated the rustling of the nearby palm fronds. The sounds should have been soothing, but her nerves were too on edge.
Charlotte stopped and made herself look around. Was there a logic to the layout? Scientific nomenclature would be lost on her, but—
She let out a sigh of relief on spotting the neatly lettered signs—in plain English—framed in brass and attached to each of the raised beds. The arrangement appeared to be geographical, and she quickly found her way to the section markedIndia.It was divided into subsections of neat squares. One by one, Charlotte carefully examined the contents.
As she moved to the end of the bed, a telltale flicker of yellow and white caught her eye.
“Eureka,”she murmured. She leaned low over the specimen, just to be sure it was—
And suddenly felt the kiss of cold steel against the back of her neck.
“Don’t move.” A metallicclicksignaled the cock of a pistol’s hammer.
Charlotte cursed herself for being so careless. The water sounds had masked the scuff of approaching steps.
“Now, why, I wonder, would a street urchin break into a hothouse?”
“I wuz only lookin’ fer food,” she answered in the rough-cut slur of the slums, hoping her captor would take pity on a child and let her go.
“Oh, I think not.” The gun barrel dug in harder against her flesh. “You spoke just a moment ago in Greek. Which begs the question—who are you?”
Damnation.
“Turn around,” ordered Lady Julianna. “And do it very slowly. I assure you, I’m quite skilled with a pistol, and would have no compunction about pulling the trigger.”
Charlotte closed her eyes for an instant, aware that she had allowed her hard-won street skills to lose their edge. Her life was changing, and her concerns had become more complex—mere survival had given way to thoughts of a future for the boys, the demands of retaking her place in Society, her relationship with Wrexford . . .
But all that was moot if she didn’t quickly gather her wits and find a way to dodge disaster.
Keeping her head bowed, she did as she was told.
A dainty finger flicked out and tipped up the brim of her floppy hat.
Gritting her teeth, Charlotte rued her carelessness. She had skipped her usual ritual of blackening her face with dirt, as this was to have been a simple in-and-out. She buried her chin in the fold of her coat, hoping against hope—
But to no avail.
Julianna plucked off the cap and tossed it aside. Charlotte heard a sharp intake of breath. “Lady Charlotte?”
Silence stretched for the space of a heartbeat.
“I can explain,” she murmured, her mind racing to cobble together a credible story.
“Please do.” It was said pleasantly, but the pistol was still aimed at her heart.
“I was trying to puzzle out your riddle,” began Charlotte. “I didn’t wish to admit defeat, and so . . . and so I decided to try to sneak a surreptitious look at your family library, in hope of finding a clue.” She picked at a thread on her cuff. “The door to the conservatory seemed the best choice. However, it’s so magnificent in here, I fear I became distracted.”
“We are kindred souls, you and I,” replied Julianna. “You have imagination and daring. And you’re a very good liar.” A pause. “But not quite good enough.”
Charlotte remained silent.
“You wish me to believe you’re examining ourCurcuma longa—one of the rarest specimens we possess—simply by chance?”
She shrugged. “Life is full of inexplicable coincidences.”
Julianna let out a peal of laughter. “Indeed. And then again, at times the cosmos aligns in exquisitely beautiful harmony.”
