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“Poaching one your father’s own servants!” Lana gasped in mock horror. “How disloyal.”

“The only servants my father knows are Cappleman and his valet, Burns. Little did I know Cappleman had already been training Norris in anticipation of the day I married and moved out of the house.”

It was rather optimistic of the family butler given she’d had no intention of marrying until forced into it, but it turned out that he’d been absolutely right—as he so often was.

“Well, if the venerable Cappleman approves . . .” said Lana.

“I’ve asked Norris to bring in a few chairs. I hope you don’t mind us sitting in here.”

“Of course we don’t mind,” said Lana. “It’s a lovely room. Much better than that cupboard you used to hole yourself up in.”

It had been a cupboard, and even after fitting it with a temperamental coal stove she could still feel the damp seeping in on very rainy days.

“With all this glass it might actually feel warm during the summer,” said Anne.

Christine peered through the glass ceiling to the thick blanket of clouds overhead. “I don’t miss sticky summers in New York, but I wish I could have those first spring days again.”

“We have spring here. It’s when the rain becomes slightly warmer and you might see the sun for more than thirty minutes,” said Lana.

“And then it snows or hails,” said Christine.

“Precisely,” said Lana.

Anne, who was standing closest to the workbench, touched one of Ina’s sketches.

“Go ahead,” Ina said with a nod of encouragement.

Anne held it up to the light, her index finger tracing the long line of Hero’s back. “Will this be your next work?”

“If I ever get started.” Ina moved several of the sketches around, searching for one that would show the figure in full. “Here, this will give you a better idea.”

“Oh, it’s beautiful but so sad. Who are they?” asked Anne, cradling it against her palm.

“Hero and Leander. The myth says that Leander fell in love with one of Aphrodite’s priestesses, Hero. They’d lived in cities across the Hellespont from one another, so every night Hero would hang a lantern in her tower and Leander would swim to her. One night there was a storm and the wind blew Hero’s lantern out. Leander lost his way and drowned. When she saw his body she threw herself from her tower so they could be together.”

“May I?” Lana asked, her hand stretched out. When Anne handed the paper to her, the lady turned it so Christine could see.

“This is going to be a large statue,” said Lana, glancing at the marble before them.

“My largest yet,” said Ina.

“A commission?” her friend asked.

She shook her head. She’d never won a commission before, instead gifting work to friends, but after the exhibition perhaps.

“It’s a secret,” she said.

“Really?” Christine leaned in. “Do tell.”

She chewed on her lip, suddenly nervous about doing something so bold as to try to fool the entire Royal Sculpture Society. Yet these were her friends—women who’d always supported her. Next to Gavin, they were the most important people in the world to her. She wanted them to know.

“I’m going to submit to the exhibition in June,” she said.

A grin spread across Lana’s face. “Finally. But how? Women aren’t allowed to enter.”

She shrugged. “I’ll use my initials. Many male artists do. I doubt it will cause a single raised eyebrow.”

“It’s perfect,” said Anne with a breathy sigh.