Now, though, she paid attention to what he did. He hesitated, then smiled at her. “Right then.” It was not an informative answer about his emotional state, but he went right on. “Now, there was an excavation up ahead here. Take the leftpath.” He’d been right. They’d only been on the Lover’s Walk for maybe two score steps. Maybe a few more, not many at all. There were fewer people on this path, not that it was crowded, and a little further along they came out in a meadow again, with some rolling small hills.
As they got closer, a hundred feet away, maybe, from where they seemed to be aiming, she felt a shift in the talisman. This was a different pitch than before, which made her think it had something to do with age. Probably not material, unless these particular Romans had been working with meteoric ore. “Roman, you said. Earlier than we were talking about?”
“Just so. And coins, fairly ordinary ones for the period, but still exciting to the archaeologists and numismatists.” Farran steered her up and around, making a little circuit of the paths so they could stop once no one was near them without being a bother. “A different pitch?”
“A third lower. Ordinary sorts of metals, then, too? What would you guess the meteor would sound like?” Vega kept her voice quiet as well.
“I’d guess either something rather higher or rather lower— a low bass to what you have now? Or a soprano. Or, alternately, something of a different timbre.” He hesitated, as if considering something. “I admit, I’m curious how you’d perceive a range of items now, given the chance to experiment.”
“Perhaps when we’re done with the immediate question, then.” Farran had been about to say something. Then he blinked at her, startled. Vega smiled, the honest smile, not the performer’s smile. She made sure of that. “I was thinking, walking here, that I like your company. You’re both restful and interesting to be with. Most people don’t manage both, never mind at the same time.”
It got her another blink, this one slower, before he smiled, and she liked the smile even more. “That is a rather specific andpleasant compliment. Thank you. I’m glad you think so.” There was a tiny hesitation, the sort that was properly a semi-demi-hemi-quaver, before he went on. “I’ve been enjoying today, too, and your company. I don’t think we’re going to find out more here, not without a shovel. Shall we go along and see what else we can find?”
This time, he did actually offer his arm, keeping on her left side, so she could keep her fingers on the talisman in her pocket. She slipped her hand through his, letting him take the lead. They walked clear across the park, steering for a particular path. “You seem to know your way. Have you come out here before?” She wondered, actually, what he did when he wasn’t working or at home in the family estate.
“I spent a lot of time looking at the maps, and I’ve a good sense of direction.” Farran admitted it, then glanced at her. “I’d have come out myself, but of course there hasn’t been a free day I wasn’t working.”
“Wait, you feel—” Vega could tell by the sound of it. Guilt, or something close enough to be going on with as a theory. “Don’t feel guilty about that. I’m taking your time, your free time.” She wasn’t actually stealing his time, she was paying him for it, but still.
“Honestly, if we weren’t doing this together, and I was in London, I’d be doing something like this, anyway. By myself, probably, which is rather less pleasant.” He gestured with his free hand. “If I’m going to be in London for a time, why not take the chance to get to know it?”
“Are you here for very long, then?” That was another thing. She was committed to London for a good bit, and her career wasn’t easy on spending time with someone who worked during office hours. She had suspicions that Farran woke up at dawn to birds singing outside his window and liked it.
“A few months. And if this goes well, there’s no reason I couldn’t establish myself here, more. I hadn’t been planning on it, but I don’t have to decide right now. I can see which path makes sense when I get to the turns.” He gestured ahead of them, where the paths were illustrating that. “Here, that corner goes out of the park. We’re going to call on someone to make use of their back garden.”
“Wait.” Vega didn’t quite stop. “What?”
“The caves are closed off. But one of the houses— someone of Albion, conveniently, though that’s also how they stay sealed— has the rights to open it. If they like. I knew who to ask to know who to ask, and what to send round. Not a bother.” Farran grinned at her, entirely boyish. “Part of the service.”
“A bottle of wine or— not wine, up here, I suppose.” Vega considered the houses she could see.
“A bottle of mead, and a particular green tea that Vivian helped me with.” Farran shrugged, the movement shifting the arm in hers. “I like that sort of puzzle, honestly. Half of my work is the art. Half of it is the history of the art. And half of it is figuring out how to get the people involved to find something mutually agreeable.”
“That is three halves,” Vega pointed out.
He laughed, comfortably. “I leave the maths up to the accountants. Anyway, Mrs Allerby will let us in. There’s a ladder down from her garden shed. And she’ll alert someone if we don’t come out the same way in a reasonable time. I am not highly skilled at the charms involved in caves. But these are supposed to be stable, and not the kind of thing we’d get stuck in, so the real risk is bad air.”
“That,” Vega said, “is rather a particular risk.” She did not like that sort of problem at all. She was entirely used to air being at her command. “I see why you said sensible walking shoes, though.” She was not enamoured of the idea of a ladderin a skirt, but wearing trousers was still a particular kind of statement. But her skirt was on the longer and sturdy side. And, well, she didn’t think Farran was the kind to leer. Not unless she actively encouraged him to, anyway, and that was an entirely different category. Vega did like men appreciating her, if they had manners and good taste. It was hard to make a living as a singer without liking the idea in principle.
Now, they crossed out of the park, over the street, and then along a row of houses. Almost down at the end, Farran dropped her arm and went to open the gate, obviously following particular instructions. “Here we go.”
Vega could take a cue as well as anyone, and she came into the garden; it was not much at this time in spring, but what must be some lovely roses come summer. Then Farran went up to knock on the door. There was a brief exchange, and a woman in her middle fifties came out. She looked Vega up and down, nodded once, not disapprovingly, and then motioned them inside. It was a terraced house. Of course there was no way into the back garden without going through the house. Or perhaps whatever alley ran between the sets of houses.
Vega cleaned her shoes off carefully on the mat— they’d picked up a bit of dust on the way— then added a charm to help. That got her a far more approving smile from the woman. “I’m Lily Allerby. Come through this way.” It was a well-kept house, but Vega tried not to pry. Also, the nuances of this form of domesticity were almost entirely foreign to her. She wasn’t really able to evaluate them properly.
Give her a dress, a performance, a pair of people dancing, and she could make informed judgements about the state of things. A house, she was baffled by whatever the precise angle of the cushions on the sofa, the choices of pictures on the walls, or the colours might mean. Except that Mrs Allerby apparently liked cats, though none were currently in evidence.
Once out in the back garden, there was a tidy little shed, a small terrace, and more in the way of plants. Vega offered a bit cautiously, “You must have lovely roses in the summer?”
“Oh, yes. Proper blood and bone meal, of course, I’m a traditional sort. Now, here we go.” That seemed to have thawed her mood a bit. She went straight to the shed, held the door open, and motioned them inside.
There was, in fact, enough room to stand, but there was also a trap door taking up a good half of the floor, with shelves around on three sides. She closed the door, and Vega could feel some charms, likely those muting sounds. Farran nodded. “We’re just about when I hoped we’d get here. Two hours?”
“Two hours.” Lily Allerby nodded once. “You can leave anything you don’t want to take with you here. Swear it’ll be safe.”
“I want what’s in my bag, just in case. And I have a journal, so if we have a bother, I can tell people where we are. Here.” Farran passed her several folded pieces of paper. And, she thought, some coins. “The paper will let you write to us, or see a message. Vega, that’s in the outer pocket, here, if I can’t write.”
“Sensible young man, then. Enjoy exploring. Oh, and there are lanterns there, they take a charmlight well. I’ll leave you to.” Lily Allerby was apparently a woman of few words, because she didn’t wait for an answer.
