“Yes, although Gleason’s lack of expertise is evident. He doesn’t have the terminology for the pieces he possessed, and I think he kept them primarily for decorative purposes.”
Throckmorton rolled his eyes dramatically. “Naturally. Like all the other chuckleheads.” He put the pages down. “Well, thank you. Your handwriting is very fine. Now, let me tell you what is in the sack. There’s about a suit and a half there, none of it especially valuable but all of it quite interesting. I suggest you study it, using my book, of course, and perhaps it wouldn’t do any harm to look at Perry’s book on gauntlets. He’s not bad, Perry,” Throckmorton admitted begrudgingly. “I know this armor inside and out, so the study is not for my benefit. It’s foryouto become familiar with it.”
Clem beamed. “This is tremendously exciting. Thank you, Professor.”
“You’re quite welcome. Come back when you’ve pored over it well, and I’ll be keen to hear what you find.”
Livia gestured to the burlap sack. “I’m sorry; I cannot lift it due to the lead.”
Clem obligingly stepped forward and took hold of the strap. She lifted it experimentally. “Thank you. It’s heavy, but I can manage.”
“Steel and lead!” Throckmorton announced. “Steel and lead. Heavy as sin, but that’s what you need. I’m especially fond of the barbute you will find there. Italian, fifteenth-century, and a very fine specimen.”
“I will treat the armor with the utmost care. Thank you.” Clem gave a small bow.
“Good, good,” Throckmorton said, rubbing his hands together. “I look forward to the outcome. Smooth sailing, Mr. Quinn.”
“Take good care, Professor.”
Clementine offered her thanks once again at the door. Then she lumbered down the stairs, carrying the satchel on one shoulder and the burlap sack full of armor on the other. She paused briefly outside the door of the building to look at the window of Throckmorton’s office, and she saw Livia watching her. Clementine put down the sack to wave. Livia raised her hand in reply, placing her open palm against the glass. Then Clementine picked up the sack and walked back to the waiting coach.
She hadn’t seen a single student on her brief visit to Commonwealth.
Having returned to Salem and deposited her sack of armor on Oliver Street, Clementine made her way to Keel House on foot. She took a slightly longer route that ran south along Elm Street, thereby ensuring that she would encounter plenty of traffic.
When she arrived at Keel House, Rosetta was still there. To my surprise, so were Walter and Iris Ainsley. Gertie and Meg had joined them, and they were all getting along handsomely. For a moment, Clem stood unnoticed in the doorway of the study, watching the conversation with an inscrutable expression.
“All I remember,” Rosetta said, flushed with excitement, “is a large, bearded face with eyes like marbles looking down into mine, and suddenly it was as though a stone lying on my chest had been lifted, and I could breathe again.” She held her balled fists against the pleated front of her dress, and now she dropped them theatrically to her sides, taking a deep breath.
“Imagine the relief!” Gertie exclaimed, wringing her hands. “Saved from the jaws of death.”
Meg shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Quite remarkable!” Walter exclaimed, looking at Rosetta in wonder.
“But where did your father find him so quickly?” Iris demanded.
“Well, I don’t know. We were out in the middle of a field in Ipswich, and the enchanter simply appeared and called to my father by name.”
“So then the enchanter who arrived was an associate of your father’s?” Wister was listening with a pensive expression, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m not sure,” Rosetta admitted. She shook her head, the purple ribbons she wore in her hair quivering with the gesture. “I can’t say that I’d ever seen him before. But I was only eight at the time, and my memories are dim.”
Perhaps not everything Clementine could see was apparent to me, but I saw enough. Meg and Gertie, wholeheartedly impressed with this tale of medical enchantment; Walter, clearly besotted with the speaker rather than the story; Iris and Wister, respectively curious and skeptical. And I could see Clementine herself, with the expression of determined neutrality that I was coming to recognize as her posture of defense, the face that appeared when concealment was of the utmost importance.
“He wasn’t an associate of Father’s,” Clementine said from the doorway.
“Oh, Clementine!” Rosetta exclaimed happily. “I was telling them about my asthmatic attack. You remember it better than I do.”
Clementine took a step into the room, her expression grave. “I certainly remember. It’s etched in my mind.”
“You’re the older sister, of course,” Iris said.
“I was ten,” Clem assented, putting down her satchel. She spoke carefully. “I remember holding her hand while her fingers turned cold. I remember the color of her skin changing. I remember the look upon your face, Rosie, as you fought for air.”
“Thank the spirits for the enchanter!” Gertie exclaimed.
“There’s no question that he saved Rosie’s life,” Clem replied quietly.
