Chapter Forty-Two Patrick
Patrick and John followed Polly at a distance through Lavnonshire and back to the cliffs, where the antiques shop was perched.
They found Mrs. Trunk dusting a collection of cherub figurines and nodded to her as they passed.
She didn’t look their way, but her mouth moved without emitting any sound.
She shuffled away among her rows, as though wishing to disintegrate into them.
The piano trilled something irritable-sounding.
Patrick imagined their company was wearing on her.
Upstairs, Theo was sitting upright. Nina’s hands were on his bare stomach, reapplying a clean bandage. Patrick felt something gnash at his insides.
Nina stood at their arrival. “Well?” she asked, her eyes on Polly’s hands.
Polly sighed. “The cypher wasn’t there.”
Patrick thought she looked different. Sounded different. He wondered what had transpired in that house.
Nina’s face fell. John cursed beneath his breath.
“But it isn’t far,” Polly continued, her eyes hard. She squared her shoulders with the same surety she’d possessed in Kenton Hill. “My father donated it to the library.”
“What library?” asked John.
“There’s a library in the Artisan quarters of Lavnonshire. The Geoffry Tanner Collection.”
John practically spat at the sound of the name. “Sounds about fuckin’ right.”
Theo shrugged. “He was the one to build it.”
“And name it after himself,” John scoffed.
“Much like one would name a pub after themselves,” Theo muttered.
John narrowed his eyes at Theo as though weighing the consequences of flogging him.
Patrick looked at Nina. “Do you know it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Theo and I studied there a fair few times.”
“Then I’ll go,” Patrick said decisively. “The rest of you will stay here.”
But Nina sighed. “You can’t, Pat—”
“It can’t be anyone else,” he said, already turning away. “Polly will write me instructions on where to go, and what shelf—”
“No, I meant you can’t get into the library, Patrick, not unless you’re an…”
Patrick froze. “A swank?”
She pressed her lips together. Nodded. “They’ll ask to see your Artisan brand at the door.”
“I’ll go myself,” Polly announced. It seemed she’d already made the decision. “I have a brand, and enough anonymity that I shouldn’t draw attention.” She spoke with conviction. “Besides, I know what I’m looking for. It’s quicker this way. Safer.”
Patrick’s eyes stuck to Polly, scrutinizing her.
“It’ll be a big old building with more than a few ways out,” John said. “She’ll take off the second she’s past the door.”
“No,” Patrick countered. “She wants to be on that ship.” He would have laid a bet on it. Whatever it was behind her eyes, she wanted it very badly. “You’ll go in and get the book,” he instructed. “And you’ll get out immediately.”
But she shook her head. “It isn’t that kind of library,” she said. “It’s a protected collection. They don’t allow anyone to remove texts from the premises.”
John groaned. “Lord, you swanks truly have naught in your heads but fumes. If they won’t let you take it, Polly, you steal it.”
“And put it where?” she asked him, holding out her arms to show her tight corset and waistcoat, the constricting waistline of her skirt. “Where do you suggest I hide a nine-hundred-page tome, Mr. Colson?”
“For all I care, you can hide it up your—”
“We can’t smuggle it out without notice. The guards there are hawkeyed,” said Theodore. Some color had returned to his face, the bluff working its magic.
“I’ll have to complete the translation in the library itself,” she said. “There isn’t another way.”
Patrick scrubbed his face. “It never fuckin’ ends,” he muttered to himself, so low no one heard.
“It’d only be a matter of hours,” Polly said. “A single day, at most. And then you’d have your translation.”
Oh, but it was tempting. The thought of having that fucking book decoded by this time tomorrow. He needed to be done with this. The sooner, the better.
“I can go with her,” Theo said now. He pushed down on the arm of the settee and stood, albeit gingerly. “If it eases you.”
Patrick looked at him with dry reprisal. “No, it doesn’t fuckin’ ease me, Teddy.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve proven myself enough to warrant a little credit,” he replied. “And I’m the only other person here with a brand and no wanted bulletins.”
Nina seemed to assess Theo. “It might be the safest bet, Patrick.”
Patrick shut his eyes and tried to suppress the pounding in his head.
“You could follow,” Polly offered. “Stay out of sight while Theo and I are inside. I swear to you, Patrick, I’m not looking to run.”
He was calculating the odds, banking on the notion that what Polly wanted most could only be given by him, and that what Theo wanted most was standing next to him. He wouldn’t go anywhere without Nina.
“We’ll go tomorrow,” he said finally, a warning gong sounding in his chest now. And here was the miner’s shiver. Lord, there was nothing to do but forge ahead now. “Theo will act as our go-between while John and I wait out of sight, watching the exits.”
“And me,” Nina added. Before he could protest, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I seem to remember you saying that I’d ‘go where I wanted.’ I won’t stay behind all day waiting on the rest of you.”
Patrick pressed the tips of his fingers into his forehead. Everyone in the room seemed to be waiting, perched on the edge.
John was noticeably quiet. Patrick wondered how long he’d hold his tongue.
“Fine,” Patrick relented, feeling as though he’d lost his grip on the chains, the whole pulley tumbling free. “Fine.”
Through the dust motes, Polly held herself tall. “I’ll prove myself to you, Pat.”
He gave her a dark look before turning away. “You’ve already proven yourself to me.”