The Librarian of Crooked Lane by C.J. Archer

Author:C.J. Archer [Archer, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.J. Archer

Chapter 10

Lady Stanhope stood in the middle of my room, a look of disgust on her face. I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or her surroundings. My room may have been small, the furnishings simple, but it was clean and tidy. I could only guess that she was disgusted with me.

She would have been an attractive woman if she smiled more. It would seem she only reserved her smiles for young artists. I wished Horatio were here to diffuse the tension.

He might not be here, but I could use his name. “Did Horatio tell you where to find me? We’re good friends, you see, and—”

“I don’t care who your friends are.”

So much for that idea. She didn’t even flicker an eyelash. I expect nothing about this woman moved involuntarily, not even a flap of her skirts in the breeze. The stiff fabric would see to that. Her movements were controlled, contained, and designed to convey superiority and authority. On anyone else, they would feel practiced, but I suspected they were innate to her now. Perhaps she’d rehearsed them in front of a mirror many years ago until they became second nature.

The only time I’d seen that visage slip was when Ludlow had spoken angrily to her. She’d probably been in shock. It wouldn’t be often that a servant raised his voice to her.

Lady Stanhope stepped toward me, her chin lifted at an arrogant angle. She eyed me coolly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sylvia Ashe.”

“I mean, who are you? Who do you work for?”

I leveled my gaze with hers, determined not to show how anxious this meeting made me. “I’m just an assistant librarian. I was briefly employed as a temporary assistant to the exhibition manager at the Royal Academy.”

“Do you work for the police?”

“No.”

“They spoke to me about a…situation that you witnessed at the gallery. You were the only witness, Miss Ashe. Tell me how the police knew about it if you didn’t inform them?”

“I don’t work for the police,” I said again.

She walked slowly around the room, picking up things and studying them before putting them down. Again, I was reminded of someone who was aware of every move she made and chose them for maximum impact. Every slide of her finger across a book cover was done on purpose, every pinch of her lips and every glance.

She picked up a framed photograph of my mother, James, and me, taken when we were small. “No father?”

“What do you want, Lady Stanhope?”

“I want you to know that you can no longer work for the Academy. You’ve been blacklisted across all departments. You can’t even be employed to take out the rubbish.”

“That doesn’t affect me. I’ve found other employment.”

“Ah yes, the Glass Library.”

“How do you know where I work?”

“I asked.” She glanced at the door as she said it. Some of the other lodgers knew where I worked now. It was not a secret, and they had no reason not to tell her. “Don’t cross my path again, Miss Ashe.

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