The meeting was held in a cavernous study hall at the botanist's museum on the second floor. Outside, the landing overlooked the first floor where guests wandered the displays and chatted happily between each other, giving it a warm, gentle atmosphere that Elmore loved.
Museums had a horrible reputation of being stuffy and boring, yet Elmore argued the opposite; they were a place not just for learning but for joy and socializing, too.
The tall ceiling allowed the voices to carry, echoing through the open space as people meandered. Although he couldn't make out distinct conversation, it was still a welcoming sound. Back home in Gloucestershire, the manor was quiet. Here, even when guests kept their voices low, the place was filled with talk.
It was four years since he had last attended a meeting, having no interest in coming unless invited specifically by his mentor. It wasn't that hedislikedthe others, but he saw how they looked at him. He was the only titled man, save for a few professors, and it was clear that he didn't entirely fit in.
They had yet to start, so Elmore took the time to wait by the landing, so that he could watch the people below. Two elderly gentlemen were swooning over the samples of exotic flowers, while a young couple were admiring a section on medicinal plant life.
A noise to his left alerted Elmore to the presence of another. It was Miss Washam, although it was difficult not to think of her simply as Aurora. It was improper, of course, but somehow the formality of surnames didn't suit her.
"Good afternoon," he said brightly, offering her a winning smile.
Most women melted at his smile — not that it was his intention — but Aurora simply offered him an awkward nod.
"The museum is busier than I expected. Is it always like this?"
Aurora leaned her elbows on the railing, dainty fingers tapping on the wood. "Not always. I think people have caught wind of our meeting and wish to listen in."
"If they do, they'll leave as soon as Mr. Buckley begins speaking."
Elmore held no love for the man, who was loud and overbearing. He often took control of the conversation, but never actually had anything interesting to say. Elmore rather thought that Mr. Buckley simply liked the sound of his own voice.
He had hoped for a laugh, a smile maybe, but Aurora simply turned to glance down at the lower floor.
"You're sitting in today, then? Perhaps you could tell the group about that herb garden you mentioned the other day? I have one of my own, but I've never had the cause to use it."
Aurora's lips pursed, a small sigh escaping them. While she appeared uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, she made no attempts to leave.
"Nervous?" Elmore asked, "you've no need to be. I plan to discuss what I found during my trip to Italy — there are some odd things there, I'm sure that will interest you enough to distract."
"I appreciate your concern," Aurora stated, but with a tone that indicated no appreciation at all. "But I'm not nervous. I've been attending these meetings since I was seventeen years old, and haven't missed a single one."
"Then why do you appear so sullen?"
He hadn't meant it as an insult, merely an observation, but something in Aurora's eyes darkened. She straightened, hands falling to her side, and said, "like I said, Idoappreciate your concern; but when I say I'm fine, I am. Now, do you know where my father went?"
"To speak with the museum owner, I think."
"Downstairs, then." She murmured something else that sounded likehe's always late,and shook her head wearily.
Elmore sympathized; before his passing, his own father had never been good with time keeping. "I can fetch him if you need?" he offered.
Aurora's hand flicked from her temple to her lips, the back of her hand pressed firmly there. When she heaved out a cough, it shot from her throat with such force her chest heaved, and Elmore felt a jolt of shock. For a moment, it drowned out any other sound; before stopping as abruptly as it began.
"Miss Washam-"
"It's passed," she cut in, and swiped delicately at the corner of her lips. "Just a cough I've had since I was little. Really, it's only a nuisance."
While Elmore wouldn't have called that merely anuisance,he saw in her eyes that there was no room for argument. Not wanting to anger her, he let it be.
"Anyway, I really should find my father so we can begin," Aurora said. Except for a little rasp in her voice, all hints of her cough had vanished.
Since Aurora needed to find Mr. Washam before they could start the meeting, Elmore decided to find a seat. Already, the room was crowded with other men; all botanists from in and around London. He recognized some faces from before, some new. There were also some missing, although it seemed that there was still an excellent turnout. Of course, many saved this date every year.
There was a spare seat near the head of the table, where the host always sat. This year it was Mr. Washam, of course, and Elmore was eager to sit close. Perhaps he would get the chance to speak with Aurora again, although she hadn't been too enthusiastic today.
Regardless of what she said, he had the sense it was nerves making her short with him. After all, she was not only the only woman here, but the youngest by about five years. Elmore himself was thirty, and only the second youngest.