She turned to Ridge and motioned for them to walk toward the door. Artemis scurried over to unlock the row of locks then preceded them from the room.
He led them back into the shop, and as she and Ridge started for the entrance, he spoke up.
“There is one thing.”
She and Ridge turned back to him.
“The man had an intriguing tattoo on the back of his right hand. I saw it when he reached for the doorknob.”
She froze, and Ridge stiffened beside her.
“It’s the same man,” he muttered.
She turned to him. “What do you mean?” She remembered that tattoo from her encounter with the man in her bedchamber, but she was sure she hadn’t spoken of it to Ridge.
“I questioned the book seller I purchased the journal from. He said that a man with a strange tattoo had been poking around his shop, asking about the journal and about Pagoria.”
“The man who broke into my house that first day you approached me, he had the same tattoo,” she murmured.
Ridge frowned and muttered an oath. “He is also likely the person who accosted you and stole the journal from my study.”
She nodded.
“It would appear you both should take great care,” Artemis spoke up. “Your man seems quite determined to succeed in his goal.”
They left the book shop and climbed into Ridge’s waiting carriage. Before closing the door, Ridge leaned out and gave the driver a direction she was unfamiliar with.
He leaned back in, closing the door behind him. Despite her best effort, as soon as the door shut, her chest tightened and she struggled to breath. She shook her head, willing the panic not to take over. In and out. In an out. Slowly, her breathing evened out and she felt the awful fear start to dissipate. Relief poured over her.
She looked up to see Ridge staring at her, questions hovering on his lips. To prevent unwanted explanations, she hastily asked, “Do you know where Mrs. Unster lives?”
He stared at her for a bit longer then shook his head. “We’re paying a visit to the proprietor of a book shop where I purchased the journal. We can find out how to reach her through him.”
India nodded and leaned back in her seat. Her head was beginning to ache rather vilely, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to alleviate the tension in her temples.
“What was all that about back there?” Ridge asked.
Her eyes flew open and she directed her gaze on him. “What was what?”
“How did he know so much about the city and in particular, the bracelet? No one’s ever found it, and yet he knows exactly which drawing is accurate?”
She sighed and rubbed her forehead, the pounding beginning in earnest. “Artemis is...well, he’s different.”
“I gathered that much,” Ridge said dryly.
“He has the ability...to see...to see certain things that others cannot,” she said carefully.
“A predictor of the future?” he asked with an arched brow.
“Sometimes. Other times he just sees events. Items. He is convinced that it’s God’s way of teasing him. Showing him just enough to give him certain knowledge about smaller pieces, yet never revealing the larger questions or answers.”
Ridge smiled sardonically. “Rather convenient, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “Artemis’s ability or lack thereof is inconsequential. But I’ve known him long enough to know that he is seldom wrong about things. Whether it’s a striking coincidence, I cannot say. But I pay attention when he speaks.”
Ridge didn’t speak further, but he regarded her skeptically. It wasn’t unexpected. This was a man who balked at any impractical notion. Such as her father’s theory that Pagoria was not a dead civilization.
A small smile battled the corners of her lips, and she pressed them together to prevent them from turning upwards. She’d love to see his expression when he saw her father was right. But he wouldn’t, she reminded herself. Not if her plan was successful.
