Chapter 16

Olivia turned the iron handle of the Blue Room's window and pushed the pane outward, then filled her lungs with the invigorating

cool, clean air. Birdsong trilled, a cow lowed in the distance, and the breeze swayed the highest branches of the trees and

rustled through the leaves.

In spite of the previous evening's turmoil, she'd slept well. Reinvigorated and rested, she clicked her small pocket watch

open, noting the hour. She was due in Mrs.Milton's chamber in minutes. She quickly finished her morning preparations, opened

the hidden door in her wall, and made her way through the series of smaller dressing rooms that connected the Blue Room to

Mrs.Milton's chamber. Teague answered her knock and opened the door, revealing a chamber that made every other space within

Cloverton's walls pale in comparison.

Gilded frames containing intricate sketches and paintings of every manner of flora and fauna adorned the painted sea-green walls, and rubber plants and massive ferns graced the space. A cylindrical Tunisian birdcage of wood and wire served as a home to a pair of songbirds, and a tall canopy bed of exotic teak with luxurious faint ochre brocade drapes anchored the chamber. Chest-high chinoiserie screens boasting pagodas, peacocks, and floral vignettes ornamented every corner, and the unexpected woody scent of agarwood incense perfumed the chamber.

"I'm pleased to see you ready for the day." Mrs.Milton's raspy voice drew her attention to a small breakfast table beneath

a west-facing window. "The night was a long one. I feared you might sleep late."

"I don't believe in sleeping the day away." Olivia stooped to pet Louis, who'd jumped down from his mistress's lap and wagged

his tail enthusiastically. "Besides, I am eager to get started."

Mrs.Milton stood from her breakfast table, shook the folds of her satin dressing gown, and crossed toward the marble mantelpiece.

She lowered a rather large ceramic statue. "Do you know what this is?"

"Of course." Olivia accepted the outstretched piece and ran her fingers over the smooth celadon glaze. "It's a Chinese guarding

lion. My father called them foo dogs. They protect against evil spirits and misfortune. But they usually appear in pairs—a

male and a female. This one is male. You can tell because its paw is on a ball. The female lion always has her paw on a cub."

A rare smirk cracked Mrs.Milton's stern features, and she moved to the other side of the mantel and retrieved the female

counterpart. "Impressive."

Without another word Mrs. Milton produced a key from a small box atop the mantelpiece and indicated for Olivia to follow her. She pushed up on a section of the paneled wall that matched the secret door in the Blue Room, inserted the key, and turned it, and the entire section of wall swung inward to reveal an extremely large alcove with two high windows at the chamber's end. "Go ahead then, Miss Brannon. Have a look."

Both sides of the alcove were lined with shelves displaying every manner of shell and stone, ranging in size from no larger

than a walnut to a large pumpkin. Two intricately carved corner shelves displaying blue-and-white chinoiserie, from a ginger

jar to a small dragon figurine, framed the two narrow south-facing windows. A lacquered table boasted a series of jade bowls

and golden cups.

Olivia was used to collections of all sorts and was accustomed to being around valuable pieces, but she'd only ever seen them

in the safety of a warehouse—never on display as they were intended to be enjoyed. To see them like this, shimmering in sunlight,

gratified her.

"This is my China closet." Mrs.Milton's words rang with pride, and she straightened an Indian tapestry hanging on the wall

just inside the door. "I suppose they've largely gone out of fashion now."

Olivia knew the term—a room or rooms in a lady's private chambers where one would display her beautiful collections. But she'd

never actually seen one.

Mrs.Milton walked farther into the space, pausing to slightly adjust the angle of a jewel-encrusted chest atop a table in

the chamber's center. "Everything in this room will need to be cataloged, of course."

Olivia nodded, desperately attempting to stay focused on Mrs. Milton's instructions, but a rare spider conch shell distracted her. Her fingers ached to touch its spikes, which had been dulled by the sea and time. "This is truly incredible, Mrs. Milton. I had no idea your collection was this extensive."

Mrs.Milton lifted Louis, who had joined them from the main bedchamber. "Each item holds one of my grandfather's stories.

What I would have given to travel with him, or even to have been one of the sailors on his ships. To smell camelia and jasmine

as they were meant to be enjoyed. To see the statues in the temples they adorned or even to feel the sand on a foreign shore.

But as much as I love these items, I value autonomy more."

Many aspects of Mrs.Milton's character did not make sense to Olivia, but at that moment she felt an unmistakable kinship

with her. Besides her own mother, Olivia had never encountered another woman with an affinity for the exotic, who longed for

new places—to experience a world deemed suitable only for men.

Refocusing her thoughts, Olivia ran her finger over the lid of an Indian mother-of-pearl puzzle box. Not a trace of dust was

visible. Not a piece seemed haphazardly placed. "I'm struck by how tidy and organized everything appears."

"You can thank Tabitha for that."

"The chambermaid?"

"Yes. She and Teague are the only two people I allow in here. I don't think any of the new staff are aware this chamber exists.

I keep all my rooms locked when I'm away." Mrs.Milton motioned to the door. "Come, Teague will show you where the records

are kept. You will join the other ladies this afternoon, and then we shall attend dinner tonight, but you should be able to

at least familiarize yourself with the layout of things this morning."

Sensing the finality of her client's discourse, Olivia reluctantly left the China closet. She followed Teague to a massive mahogany armoire in another dressing room. Inside, receipts, bills of lading, transaction reports, lot sales, and journal entries were haphazardly filed. Even in its chaotic state, the armoire trunk containing it all was as much a treasure trove as the China closet itself. Each piece of paperwork was a piece to the puzzle that, once complete, would create a detailed account of exactly what Mrs. Milton owned.

How her father would have loved this process of discovery.

For the millionth time she wished he was with her.

This was what they had shared—this passion for the fantastic and captivating. And not only the pieces themselves but the stories

behind them. It was a bittersweet sentiment. She wanted to travel, to see new things and meet new people, but it was a lonely

goal. Laura wanted no part of her family's fascination, and the only other person she knew who shared her penchant was Russell.

The memory of their conversation the night before she quit London flared. He might share an antiquarian's knowledge, but not

the passion. Was she destined to chase this dream alone? And if so, would it be worth it?