Page 14 of A Translation of Desire (The Brazen Curators #2)

R ose yawned as she stepped out of the carriage onto the pavement in front of Seely House.

It was an unbearably early hour, but she couldn’t sleep, so she decided to work instead.

Lisbeth said she was welcome to use the research room whenever she liked, even when the building was closed.

The Historical Society for Female Curators had guards on duty twenty-four hours a day since the break-in, so someone should be there to let her in.

Rose nodded thank you to the driver before trudging to the front door with her bag.

She lifted her hand and tapped on the wood.

Surprise filled her when the door fell open under the weight of her knocking.

Behind her, the driver whistled to the horses, and the carriage rumbled off, leaving her there alone.

Fear prickled through her. Rose scowled, telling herself she was overreacting.

The guard probably forgot to shut the door completely. Not good, but nothing dangerous.

Stepping through the entryway, she saw the expansive foyer was quiet and empty. The prickly sense came back as she pondered where the guard could be. The room was lit by the sun still coming up. The lack of full light cast shadows where they weren’t usually located.

“Hello,” she said, hoping the guard would emerge from one of the rooms.

A rustling noise came from the second floor, and then the silence resumed. She walked further into the foyer. Again, she said, “Hello.”

The sound of a window breaking in the research room echoed through the building. The thieves were back and escaping with something else! Rose raced up the stairs, fixated on catching the culprits. She stumbled into the research room but saw no one.

Cautiously, she approached a broken window and caught sight of a man dropping down to the ground from the sloping roofline.

He wore a scarf over his face, preventing her from detecting who he was.

He ran down the lane behind the building and into one of the London streets already filled with people heading to their place of employment.

Glancing around, she noticed the man didn’t attempt to open the cabinets again.

Rose should leave and find a constable, but she still wasn’t sure where the guard was.

She left the research room and entered the office.

A gasp escaped her as she surveyed the chaos of the room.

Desks were overturned, and papers littered the ground.

Rose walked to the sitting area and spotted the guard. Her stomach clenched with alarm.

She fell to her knees and tapped on his face. “Sir. Sir. Are you okay?”

His eyelids fluttered open. “Miss, call a constable. Someone broke in,” he groaned.

“I can’t leave you here.”

He grabbed her arm. “Please, it isn’t safe. Go now.”

Rose glanced around. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She sensed she was being watched.

“Miss, please go.”

She nodded. “I will return shortly.”

As quickly as she could, she raced down the steps and out the front door, making her way to the street.

She stopped in her tracks, realizing she’d left her bag with all her work.

Rose darted back inside and spotted a man exiting the office on the mezzanine level.

He too wore a scarf over his face. Their eyes met, and then his gaze flicked to her bag, a few feet away from her.

She ran to it, ignoring his thunderous steps on the stairs.

Once her bag was in hand, she raced out the front door again, throwing it closed behind her, but as she ran, Rose heard it bang against the wall.

The man was hot on her heels. She needed to make it to the street.

Bushes obscured the front walkway. He could do anything to her if she didn’t make it.

Her lungs burned, but she didn’t slow down.

As she reached the street, Rose stumbled and fell forward. Her knees hit the pavement, but she continued to grip her bag. She had no doubt the man was after her work. She frantically searched around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone? Rose took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“Miss, are you all right?” a maid headed to work asked.

“I need a constable. Seely House, the building I just left, has been robbed. A guard was harmed,” she said.

The maid’s eyes widened. She motioned to a man cleaning the streets. “Call a constable now. Someone has been harmed.”

The man eyed her skeptically. Rose insisted, “I’m telling the truth.”

Just then, the Seely House guard staggered down the walkway, blood dripping down the back of his head. The cleaner whistled to a hack driver. “Fetch a constable.”

The driver took off, and the guard asked her, “Are you hurt, Miss Calvert?”

She shook her head. “No, but you are. Please sit.”

The man stumbled. Rose sprang to her feet. “Sit now.”

He sighed and slid to the ground. She frowned, puzzled by what had happened. It was clear that the thieves had been after documents, and Rose suspected it was related to her work. Why?

*

Augustus followed Lord Hawley’s assistant as he guided him to the viscount’s office at the London Society of Antiquaries. His lips quirked up in amusement as one door after another was unlocked and relocked. He didn’t realize antiquities required so much security. What was Hawley doing in here?

Finally, they arrived at a large room where several secretaries and assistants sat at their desks, diligently working. Along the perimeter of the space were multiple doors. His escort knocked on one.

“Enter,” Hawley said from inside his office.

The assistant opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Augustus to enter. Hawley rose. “Good day, Sinclair. I was surprised when my assistant informed me that you were here requesting a meeting.”

Augustus nodded. “I apologize for arriving without an appointment.

“Nonsense,” Hawley said before turning to his assistant. “Please fetch us some tea.”

The man nodded and shut the door as the scholar settled back into his chair behind his desk. “What can I help you with?”

“What I’m about to tell you must stay between the two of us.”

Concern filled Hawley’s face. “Has something happened to my wife?”

“You could say so. Two of the tablets they are planning to use in their main exhibit for the grand opening of the Historical Society for Female Curators have been stolen. I’ve been assisting them in trying to retrieve the relics.”

His assistant entered, and they both waited to speak further until the tea had been poured and the man departed.

Finally, Hawley said, “I know. I’ve hired someone to keep me apprised of any issues they encounter.

It is only to ensure Lady Hawley’s safety.

I would have reached out to her, but I’m aware that my wife does not want any assistance from me, so I have not offered my help. I’m glad you’re there for them.”

Augustus found it strange that he was monitoring his wife so closely. They’d been separated for a decade. “You are having someone watch the club?”

Hawley winced at his tone. “It has nothing to do with any perceived competition between my wife’s club and the London Society of Antiquaries.”

“Then what is it?”

“You and I both know that there are great people in the antiquities field, but there are also plenty of cutthroat and unscrupulous individuals out there. It is simply a precaution.”

“I have your word it isn’t to try to stop their club?” Augustus asked.

His host’s lips twitched upward. “First, Devons becomes a dedicated supporter of their cause. And now, you?”

Heat crept up the back of Augustus’s neck. “I’m an advocate for all clubs focused on antiquities and artifacts.”

Hawley nodded but continued to smirk. “I’m impressed that they were able to convince Rose Calvert to work with them. I hope to share my decipher key with her eventually.”

“Soon?” Sinclair asked.

“I would like to do so before either of us shares details about how our keys work publicly. It would be valuable to compare and validate each other’s research.”

“This may be speculation on my part, but I believe the break-ins at Seely House are related to her work on deciphering the text. I have a hunch they are after her analytic findings.”

Hawley shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Have you been approached about your key? Or has anyone tried to break into the London Society of Antiquaries?”

A bark of laughter escaped Hawley. “We have exceptional security. It would be a foolhardy venture if someone were to try.”

Augustus nodded, but as he studied Hawley, he suspected there was something the scholar wasn’t telling him. “What am I missing?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hawley stated.

“I’m not a fool. My business provides me with a unique perspective on the selling of antiquities and collectibles. Most thieves who steal antiquities are not interested in heavy pieces of stone with ancient text that only two people know how to decipher. What is going on?”

Hawley shrugged. “Perhaps the talk at Seely House increased interest?”

“I think you are being evasive.”

He and Hawley stared at one another silently. Finally, his host stood and poured them a brandy. He handed a glass to Augustus and then sat back in his chair.

“I was approached by officials from the British Secret Service, who mentioned that nefarious actors may be interested in deciphering the ancient text.”

The British Secret Service was an organization everyone seemed to know existed, but no one knew who worked for it or what they did. They existed in the grey world of international politics and intrigue. Augustus blinked at him multiple times, surprised. “Why do they believe that?”

Hawley shrugged. “I’m not at liberty to share the reason. They just told me to be careful. At the time, I wasn’t aware of anyone else who could translate the text, but then Mis Calvert gave her talk.”

“Is she in danger?”

Hawley lifted a brow. “My wife?”

“No, Rose Calvert.”

Hawley took a sip of his drink and said, “Even though the government warned me of a potential threat, they believe the theft at Seely House is not associated.”

“Do you believe that?” Augustus asked.

Hawley frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“You need to tell your wife and her club.”

Leaning forward, Hawley said, “I have been sworn to secrecy. My contacts said it is a matter of national security. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

Augustus gave him a pointed look. “They could be in real danger.”

“I’ve requested that the British Secret Service investigate it further so I can assure the safety of all the Historical Society for Female Curators board members.”

“Again, why not tell your wife’s club that you’ve heard about the missing tablets and want to assist?” Augustus pointed out.

“If I were to step in and try to help Lady Hawley, she would immediately become curious about why I know anything about it at all. I will not disclose that the government is interested in cuneiform text. I’m hoping that by making you aware, while you assist them, it will help me keep an eye on the issue.

My connections believe the theft isn’t connected, but they are not as close to the ladies as you are. ”

A scowl filled Augustus’s face. “I won’t spy on your wife for you.”

Hawley shook his head. “Of course not. I’m not asking that, but if something else happens, I would be much obliged if you could share that with me.

I can then notify my contacts, and they can step in.

Again, the crime was likely committed by everyday thieves.

Nothing points to anything bigger than that. ”

“Is Mr. Abbas associated with the British Secret Service?”

Hawley’s brows drew together. “The solicitor you mentioned?”

Augustus nodded. “He fled his lodging, and I haven’t been able to locate him since.”

The scholar scribbled notes down on a piece of paper and said, “Not that I know of, but I will alert my contacts.”

“I have your word that you will notify me immediately if this is somehow connected to your national security matter.”

“Of course, and I will notify the ladies as well.”

Augustus added, “And you promise that this isn’t some scheme to prevent your club’s competition from having its grand opening?”

Hawley’s lips twisted into a smirk. “You have truly joined their cause. But to answer your question, no, this has nothing to do with attempting to stop them from going forward with their club. I’m only concerned for the safety of my wife and the other board members.

I wish I could share more details with you, but honestly, I don’t have much more information to provide.

The British Secret Service is not known for sharing. ”

Augustus wouldn’t help Hawley or his club interfere with the Historical Society for Female Curators, but he supposed he could inform him if something impacted the ladies’ safety.

“If something else happens, I will send you a missive. I’m departing London for a few days, but when I return, I plan to continue assisting them. Are you sure they are safe?”

“My contacts indicated so. If that changes, I will notify you about any danger.”

Augustus rose and made his way to the door, but before he could open it, the scholar said, “One more question.”

Augustus turned back to him. Hawley asked, “Why are you so willing to help them?”

“I find Miss Calvert’s work to be quite extraordinary. I would hate to see that remain unfinished.”

“She is rather wonderful,” Hawley agreed.

Rose was, but he hated that Hawley saw it too. “Good day.”