quagmires of melted snow and other, less agreeable, liquids. Even with the carriage, the passage through the streets was slow and unpleasant as the horse started and stopped frequently to accommodate the uncertain foot traffic. Most of the walkers picked their way through the streets on tall metal pattens that clinked against the pavement. Those less fortunate had their mouths squeezed with distaste as they walked through the slush. Even the tradesmen looked annoyed by the weather. She kept an eye out for William, but saw no signs of him or any other coldmonger.
The walk in front of Stratton House had, thankfully, been swept clear of the ice and snow, but Jane still had to hold up the hem of her dress to keep it from dragging on the damp pavement as they went inside. Even the stout brown wool of her work dress would show this amount of dirt.
The butler only raised his eyebrows a fraction at the addition of a third member to their party, but that did not slow the readiness with which they were greeted and shown to the ballroom.
Vincent paused only long enough to remove his greatcoat and hat before setting to work. He strode to the far end of the ballroom, where the musicians’ gallery now stood fully revealed, and vanished up the stairs.
Jane set her basket on the floor by the entry and pulled off her gloves. She would leave her pelisse on until she had warmed up a bit with activity. “We shall spend most of our time neglecting you, I am afraid.” Jane pulled her apron on over the pelisse.
“Oh, I am not afraid of that.” Melody looked around the room and frowned. “Where shall I sit?”
Discomfited, Jane could only stare at the room. They had removed all the furniture so that it did not interfere with their work. Quite a few random pieces of glamour had been obscured by chairs, making Vincent’s mutterings change to swears every time they found another loose thread. She had forgotten that there was nowhere to sit in the ballroom. “I will ask if they can bring you a chair.”
Before she could do more than turn toward the door, Vincent reappeared from the stairs. He had a folding chair from the musicians’ gallery under one arm. “Will this do?”
“Thank you, yes.” Melody skipped down the length of the ballroom to meet him. “Where shall I sit so that I am not in the way?”
“Anywhere.” Vincent set the chair in the middle of the floor. “So long as you do not mind moving if we require it.”
“Not at all.” Melody sat in the chair and pulled a book from her reticule. Studiously, she opened it and began to read, as if to show that she intended to be no trouble.
Smiling to herself, Jane joined Vincent as he climbed the stairs to the musicians’ gallery. “That was very nice of you, love.”
He grunted in answer and Jane laughed outright at him. Vincent stopped on the stairs and turned in the narrow space. Even in the dim light filtering from the door, his eyes twinkled. “Muse, you must know that I would do anything to make you happy.”
“Anything?” She ran her finger along the ribbon of his pocket watch, coming dangerously close to other delicate areas.
He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. “Anything—after our work is finished.”
“Then let us work swiftly.”
* * *
When Melody sighed for the third time in as many minutes, Jane carefully tied off the fold of glamour that she was stretching along the wall. It would serve as an undercoat of pale gold to brighten the darker weaves she would place over it later.
“Is something the matter?”
“Oh, no.” Melody shifted in her seat. “I was merely thinking.”
She had long since laid her book aside, saying that it made her head ache. It was becoming clear that she regretted her decision to accompany them. At least at home, she could move from room to room when a sense of ennui struck her. Here, she was limited to the ballroom while the Vincents worked, and Jane had run out of activities for Melody.
“Would
The walk in front of Stratton House had, thankfully, been swept clear of the ice and snow, but Jane still had to hold up the hem of her dress to keep it from dragging on the damp pavement as they went inside. Even the stout brown wool of her work dress would show this amount of dirt.
The butler only raised his eyebrows a fraction at the addition of a third member to their party, but that did not slow the readiness with which they were greeted and shown to the ballroom.
Vincent paused only long enough to remove his greatcoat and hat before setting to work. He strode to the far end of the ballroom, where the musicians’ gallery now stood fully revealed, and vanished up the stairs.
Jane set her basket on the floor by the entry and pulled off her gloves. She would leave her pelisse on until she had warmed up a bit with activity. “We shall spend most of our time neglecting you, I am afraid.” Jane pulled her apron on over the pelisse.
“Oh, I am not afraid of that.” Melody looked around the room and frowned. “Where shall I sit?”
Discomfited, Jane could only stare at the room. They had removed all the furniture so that it did not interfere with their work. Quite a few random pieces of glamour had been obscured by chairs, making Vincent’s mutterings change to swears every time they found another loose thread. She had forgotten that there was nowhere to sit in the ballroom. “I will ask if they can bring you a chair.”
Before she could do more than turn toward the door, Vincent reappeared from the stairs. He had a folding chair from the musicians’ gallery under one arm. “Will this do?”
“Thank you, yes.” Melody skipped down the length of the ballroom to meet him. “Where shall I sit so that I am not in the way?”
“Anywhere.” Vincent set the chair in the middle of the floor. “So long as you do not mind moving if we require it.”
“Not at all.” Melody sat in the chair and pulled a book from her reticule. Studiously, she opened it and began to read, as if to show that she intended to be no trouble.
Smiling to herself, Jane joined Vincent as he climbed the stairs to the musicians’ gallery. “That was very nice of you, love.”
He grunted in answer and Jane laughed outright at him. Vincent stopped on the stairs and turned in the narrow space. Even in the dim light filtering from the door, his eyes twinkled. “Muse, you must know that I would do anything to make you happy.”
“Anything?” She ran her finger along the ribbon of his pocket watch, coming dangerously close to other delicate areas.
He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. “Anything—after our work is finished.”
“Then let us work swiftly.”
* * *
When Melody sighed for the third time in as many minutes, Jane carefully tied off the fold of glamour that she was stretching along the wall. It would serve as an undercoat of pale gold to brighten the darker weaves she would place over it later.
“Is something the matter?”
“Oh, no.” Melody shifted in her seat. “I was merely thinking.”
She had long since laid her book aside, saying that it made her head ache. It was becoming clear that she regretted her decision to accompany them. At least at home, she could move from room to room when a sense of ennui struck her. Here, she was limited to the ballroom while the Vincents worked, and Jane had run out of activities for Melody.
“Would
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