Chapter Two #2
“You do not care for the summer season?” he asked. Presumably, an influx of tourists would hardly help her with her illegal activities.
“The best time is when it rains. It brings up more treasure,” she said. When she saw his confusion, she added, “From the beach, I hunt for fossils and the winter months help. I suppose there are a few good things about tourists and the summer. Since they buy the curios.”
“Indeed,” he said, having not a clue what she meant.
“Yes—but on the whole it is a bother if you must know,” she replied, “They wish to dance, to tinker around the town, to walk up and down the cob being ‘seen’.” Her cheeks grew rather warm, heated by what was either sheer exasperation or just anger. “One must talk and talk about utter silliness.”
“Most would consider it diverting to deeper connections with strangers until they become friends,” he said. She shot him a look which conveyed her displeasure. It was so disgruntled and confused that Robert almost laughed.
“And worst of all, they pretend to like fossils, to know about the natural world, and insist on traipsing up and down the sands searching—when, in fact, they are merely getting underfoot.” Her hands were moving to demonstrate her point, and there was something about the movement which struck him as rather amusing.
Yet he could not help but admire her passion for a topic.
He spotted on her face the traces, or rather history, of sunburn.
It was then that he spotted a knife and hammer tucked into the belt of her breeches, and his suspicions that she might in fact be his suspect deepened.
“You consider them to be misguided?” he asked blandly.
“They wish—apparently—to discover the natural world. Fossils that exist out here are not just for a pleasing moment, they are the bridge that connects the entire place. They are everything. But most of them just want a memento of their trip.”
“Why do you look?” he asked. “Is it for the glory or praise of the discovery?”
“No,” she said. “I look for such wonders because it is the heart of humanity. Lots of people in Lyme don’t welcome my study.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course not.” The woman’s eyes blazed with a passion he had not witnessed before. “I can find creatures that no longer exist in this living world. It makes them wonder what would happen if they no longer lived.”
“Radical indeed,” Robert remarked mildly.
“If we might learn where we came from, it could explain our world. Surely that is the wonder of science?”
“Ahh,” he said. “But who does not like praise, jubilation, and rewards? It would be a fool to turn down such gifts.” He put particular emphasis on the final word, since this woman was reaping the rewards for breaking rules—legal or challenging the norms of society.
“Would you not wish to be on the receiving end of such praise? I am sure that your tourists want a little of that too.”
“Not without the proper work that would show I had toiled to achieve it,” she replied. “Otherwise, it would be a false achievement. And I would be little better than a fake.”
“One would not wish that,” Robert said, fearful that since he was lying to her, he’d better steer the conversation away from such subject matter.
“Or it would mark me out as a liar,” she said. “And there is nothing worse than that.”
Robert turned and looked at the small town spread below them. He could make out a vague shape of it, since he was not going to don his glasses.
The whitewashed walls in the march light were pleasing if not imposing. He could just spot the out-jutting cob which he had heard tales of, was striking as it curved into the sea, and would surely provide an excellent platform for viewing, and being viewed.
The fresh bite of the salt air nipped through him.
It was the sort of place best suited to tea with one’s neighbors, to the eating of fish stew as one curled up with a book, and he could easily imagine it as a place where the local inhabitants knew everyone would frequent the local inns.
Overall, there was something quaint and snug about the place.
He envisioned smugglers and murderers running amok through it, putting him ill at ease.
Infiltrating such a town with such a small populace would be hard… locals did not often trust outsiders.
“I hope you believe me when I say I have an interest in fossils,” he said, hoping that the term ‘fossil’ was not code for something darker and more nefarious.
Watching her at this sideways angle convinced him of the wisdom of winning her over.
Best to make her his ally, grease the wheels—pay her for her company even—given how outspoken Miss Fossey was, it might not be long before she revealed herself.
“They all say that when they arrive,” she said, letting out a sigh. “Shall I take you to your hotel now?”
“Tell me of the place,” he said. Afterwards, they drew closer to the town. Robert was all too aware that all too soon she would depart. “Is the Dower Royale well-regarded?”
“It is the most genteel of places,” she replied. From her tone, Robert could tell it was a mistake to have sent word ahead to stay there. He would be classed as wealthy, and thus draw attention. Badly played on his part.
“And Raleigh House? What of that? How is that considered?”
“Pleasant, or I would not have suggested it.”
The cheeky madam was Robert’s initial thought, but when he glanced at Miss Fossey, he saw that she was not regarding him contemptuously, but it was just her way of plain speaking. She was blunt.
Then she pursed her lips, and he saw there was an impatience about her. Miss Fossey’s abruptness around straight speaking appeared genuine. And it baffled him no end.
“That is Raleigh House.” She pointed but Robert did not follow her direction.
Instead, he stepped closer, somewhat blocking her way.
She unnerved him, and yet he wanted to know more.
Someone like this, someone who must know every inhabitant in this town, would be a valuable asset.
Or she might be guilty. Either way, he needed to stay as close as possible to Miss Fossey until he had discovered her involvement in the gangs or dismissed her as a suspect.
“I would like to find as many fossils as possible. You must be the best person for the job.”
“My time is not cheap just because I am a woman,” she said. “For a day, I would be willing to help you for seven shillings.”
“Five,” Robert said, wondering how he could banter with this woman, and how much of the money Montacute had set aside for this endeavor could be spent upfront.
“Very well.” She grabbed his hand and shook it most roughly. “Provided if we find something of value, and you choose to sell it, we split the costs.”
“Of course.” Robert had not thought that far ahead, but had no objection once she had told him enough of this place, to leave her with whatever ancient wonders they found.
“I find it better in the spring to begin early provided that is agreeable to you?”
A sudden image of Miss Fossey barging into his chamber at the Dower Royale hotel came into his head: her demanding to see him, pushing past servants and guests in her rush to be out amongst the elements, sea air, and her damned fossils.
It was so unfeminine that his mind yelled at him, scolded him at the impropriety of being in such a situation.
But to Robert’s mild disgust at himself, his body did not seem overly bothered by the image. In fact, he was intrigued by the idea.
He hurried to keep up with her as they maneuvered through the village, bypassing the occasional inhabitant of Lyme Regis who would smile and nod in greeting at Miss Fossey as they walked by.
“Here we are.” She stopped in front of a grand looking building, beautifully cleaned and clearly painted anew in the last year, whose gleaming windows gave away little that was on the inside.
“If you care to eat, there is a tavern—” She gestured further down the street.
“—it does a pleasing fish or game pies. And serves ale and cider, which is famous in these parts. A lot of local men drink flip though.” She added the latter and a drink, which he had never heard of.
With this, she seemed prepared to leave.
“Wait.” He caught Miss Fossey by the elbow, having lowered his valise to the ground. She stopped in her tracks, and looked up into his face expectantly.
“Where do we commence our search tomorrow?”
“I will meet you in front of the cobb steps tomorrow morning.”
“At nine say?”
“I was going to suggest five sharp, sir.”
“Very well, eight,” Robert said. As he watched Miss Fossey depart in reluctant agreement, he could not help but feel invigorated in a way he could not recall feeling in any of his other investigations.