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“I’d love to!” she said warmly. Why, this was a most unexpected and glorious outcome! Almost as good as getting Gwen to sign the petition. The memory of the petition—and with the petition, Kate—brought her up short.

“Oh,” she said. “Could Kate come too?” She winced at her own impropriety. But she couldn’t go to the salon without Kate.

Again, Gwen presented her right ear, her oval face still as an icon’s. In the pause that lengthened, Lucy added, “Holroyd. Kate Holroyd.”

The only Kate at the Royal Academy. These long pauses . . . they were strange to say the least.

“Of course, you and Kate should both come,” said Gwen at last.

So, it was that simple, was it? Lucy grinned, dazzled by her success. Gwen smiled back and began to turn away.

“Wait! One more thing. You haven’t signed the petition, and I wonder . . .”

“Petition?” Gwen’s eyes roamed over Lucy’s face as though ferreting for clues. “What petition?”

Lucy gaped. Gwen avoided the canteen, yes, but the petition made for choice gossip in the halls and in the corners of the classrooms. Was she joking? There wasn’t a hint of irony in her expression.

“The petition to grant women a life class for the study of the undraped figure. Kate wrote it. We’ve thirty-seven signatures so far.”

Gwen’s face relaxed as she nodded. “If the life class is considered essential for the success of male students, then it’s equally essential for female students. We also rely on this profession for our future livelihood.”

Her lips did twist subtly rightward.

“Kate couldn’t have said it better herself.” Lucy pulled her eyes up, meeting Gwen’s. Gwen wasn’t disagreeable, not exactly. She shunned interaction, braced herself queerly when it was forced upon her, but she didn’t strike Lucy as shy either. She knew her own mind. At any rate, she supported the cause, which was all that mattered. Maybe this was the beginning of something like friendship. She and Kate might even entice Gwen to join the Sisterhood. She’d make a wonderful ally.

“You’ll sign?” Lucy asked.

“Mum, d’ye mean to ride or to chaff?” The white-haired cabman, who had been tugging his whiskers impatiently, now leaned down, pulling lightly on the reins so the horse pranced a step, the cab wheels knocking on the curb.

“Powers of darkness!” Lucy let out with a shout borrowed from Mrs. Cantrell. “She’ll ride in a moment. You’ll get your fare. Make sure it’s the legal fare,” she added as an afterthought.

Gwen jerked, turning to see whom Lucy addressed.

She hadn’t heard the cabman.

Something clicked into place in Lucy’s mind. She stepped back, eyes widening. As though she sensed Lucy’s new awareness, Gwen blanched. She sprang up into the carriage, skirts dragging on the wheel as she settled herself in the seat and pulled shut the folding door. The cab was off in an instant.

Lucy hardly had the time to reflect on the odd conclusion to her odd encounter. She’d not walked a block when she heard a male voice salute her.

“Miss Coover.”

A coach rolling slowly down the street had drawn up alongside her. Weston’s coach. Massive, gilded, the coronet emblazoned on the shining black door. Her heart began to pound. He’d talked to Lord Mabeldon!

But it wasn’t Weston’s voice.

“Mr. Yardley,” she said, hitching up her shoulders. Was it disappointment or dislike that made her stiffen? Mr. Yardley threw open the door and descended to the sidewalk, beaming.

“My daughter owes you her good health. Give me the pleasure of driving you home.”

“Is Miss Yardley enjoying Paris?” She didn’t move. By what right did the man ride about in Weston’s coach? It seemed an undue liberty.

“Immensely.” His smile broadened. “And I’ve been enjoying my little visit to the Royal Academy. I was just at the Keeper’s House. I told him about your trick with the ammonia. He said your chemistry professor would be delighted. Know your materials, that’s Mr. Church’s credo. And you certainly do.”

She searched Mr. Yardley’s face, craggy and genial. She couldn’t identify the threat in his expression, or in his speech, but it was there. She sensed it. Why was he discussing her with the Keeper?

“Mr. Church’s chemistry lectures have been very helpful to me.” She tried to keep her voice level.

“Get in, get in.” Mr. Yardley reached out his hand. “Let’s talk comfortably.”