“I confess my mind is tired,” sighed Alastair. “And this is too important to risk making a mistake.” He looked at the two ofthem. “When you work together, I swear I hear music. You are like two sides of a broken coin that come together and create something wondrous. I have no doubt,” he smiled, “that if you can work like that again, without coming to blows, this mystery will be solved sooner than later.”
Henry held the door open, politely handing Lucas his hat, and Verity her bonnet, which he’d retrieved from the couch.
“Thank you,” smiled Verity, turning to drop a quick kiss on Alastair’s cheek. “Sleep well, my friend. You’ve earned a good night’s rest.”
“Indeed you have, Alastair. I always leave with something new in my mind after a visit with you. Thank you.” Lucas shook his hand.
“My pleasure, children. Now go away. We will carry on with this soon, I promise.”
Obeying, Lucas and Verity walked away from Pembroke Hill into a moonlit night, each silent with their own thoughts.
“I suppose...”
“You know, it is...”
They stopped, laughed, and walked on.
“You first,” said Lucas.
“I was just going to say that although it’s been exhausting, I have enjoyed today in an odd sort of way.”
He was quiet for a moment, then offered her his arm, far more pleased than he should be when she accepted it.
“I know what you mean.” He took a deep breath of the cool evening air. “For my part, I’m going to make a confession. I could never have imagined working alongside anyone who understands numbers, figures, equations, financial systems, the way you do. It would be incredibly rare in a man. But in you? It’s a miraculous gift.”
She shot him a little smile from beneath the bow on her bonnet. “You didn’t seem to think so when I pointed out the regularity of the discrepancies...”
He grinned back. “I did, I just wasn’t about to let you know.”
“Typical man,” she rolled her eyes. “However, this puzzle...this problem, it could be a real danger, Lucas.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I know,” he replied, his voice sombre.
“What about...”
“Wait. Verity, wait a minute.” He stopped them in the street. “I haven’t eaten much today, neither have you. And I’d like to continue this conversation, but not out here in the street where anyone might overhear. You know as well as I do that things like this can easily take on a life of their own, and suddenly...boom. Panic sets in.”
“Urgh.” She nodded in agreement.
“So, if memory serves me correctly, there used to be a place...” He looked around, oriented himself, and led her down a small side road.
“Uh...Lucas?”
“If it’s still there, it’ll be worth it. Trust me.” He glanced at her. “Let me take you to dinner. Your reward for being astoundingly competent today.”
Verity blinked. “I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, but here’s a hint. It missed it by a few yards.”
Searching for a familiar landmark, Lucas merely nodded absently and turned them both toward a smaller lane. “This way. I’m sure it’s this way.”
His memory hadn’t lied, since a less than five-minute walk revealed lights, coloured signs, and a beautifully rendered sign in brass and blue lights.
“The Brass Finch,” blinked Verity. “Well, that’s new to me. I had no idea this was here.”
“I doubt you have much reason to be in this part of town, to be honest. Pembroke Hill barely touches the edge of this part of Arcvale.”
Her grip on his arm tightened a little. “Is this an acceptable place for us to be?”
“Anywherewechoose to be is acceptable, Verity. But I take your meaning. Yes, this is—or used to be—a quietly Bohemian place. And the food here was outstanding.” He noticed the customers entering and leaving. “Looks like it still is.”
