Upon reaching the Royal Art Academy, Fiona eschewed all pleasantries, wasting not one moment before finding her investigator acquaintance. “Inspector Lister,” she said, “I have a favor to ask!”
“Well, hello there, Miss Fiona. Looking lovely as ever today,” replied the handsome chief investigator. Giles found himself surprised by their friendly banter.
“Th-thank you. Um, sorry, but could I please have a glass of water?”
✦ ✦ ✦
Inspector Lister narrowed his already narrow eyes further, but when Fiona showed him the rose she had been keeping safe from the heat of her hand in a handkerchief, Lister nodded and spoke to a nearby subordinate. Shortly after, someone handed Fiona a glass of water.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Fiona said. “It was such a lovely gift, and I was worried it would wither away.”
“You could always dry it, but its subtle colors are certainly best enjoyed fresh.”
“Exactly. It smells lovely as well. Thank you, Inspector Lister.”
“You’re welcome, Miss. I’m glad I got to set my eyes on such a lovely rose.”
As the pair chatted merrily over the rose, Giles noticed other academy staff beaming at them. Why did it seem like the mood of everyone around Fiona and Lister was starting to relax?
“So good to see you, Lord Lowell,” an employee said, breaking his thoughts.
“Thanks for having me,” Giles replied.
“Oh, of course, you’re doing us quite a favor being here. May I offer you my most heartfelt welcome.”
The man proceeded to answer Giles’s unvoiced question. An aristocrat had come by earlier that morning, he explained, angry that his request had been audited by the academy, and he had blown up at everybody there. He was dissatisfied by the results of the appraisal and investigation, and his abusive language left the ones tending to him quite exhausted.
Lister had caught the brunt of the abuse, and as a result, he’d been curt with everyone even long after the rude customer left, acting so menacing that his subordinates dared not approach him.
“But Miss Clayburn is nothing like the other aristocrats, and her presence always lifts the mood,” the employee concluded.
The Royal Art Academy employed several commoners, and few nobles approached them in an unprejudiced manner. It was also unusual for a young lady of the nobility to visit the academy for a highly specialized matter. Because of that, Fiona was quite popular with the staff, who typically wasted no time engaging her in cheery conversation about the newest pieces added to the Royal Art Museum.
“So you got to speak with the other parties directly?” Fiona asked Lister.
“Yes, and they’ve surrendered several pieces to us,” Lister replied. “The research team was most pleased.”
“That’s wonderful! Will the paintings be displayed?”
“We’re going to construct a section for permanent exhibition. I wish I could say definitively that it will be finished this season, but I’m not actually sure. It’s still in progress, but would you like to see it?”
“Oh, could I?”
It sounded to Giles like Fiona was involved in some art transfers. Fiona’s eyes lit up, and she fidgeted happily at the prospect of seeing yet-to-be-released art. Lister’s gaze softened. As Giles observed their lively conversation, another staff member approached him to explain.
“Lord Lowell,” he said, “have you heard of the artist Chuck Denzel?”
“No, can’t say I have.”
The Bancroft family was well-known for collecting a variety of art, but Giles’s father wasn’t devoted to the hobby. He would never sell his collection, but as far as Giles knew, he wasn’t seeking any new purchases. Giles himself grew up surrounded by art, but none of the pieces ever particularly spoke to him. His grandfather and great-grandfather’s love of collecting art seemed to have flowed mostly to his sister, Miranda. Gordon, of course, had exploited this and almost succeeded in getting Miranda to buy a counterfeit of Raymond’s newest piece. You could hardly blame her, though; she had wanted to get her hands on a Raymond Bailey for ages.
The staff member nodded when Giles said that he had not heard of Denzel. “He is relatively unknown. It’s recently come to light that his later work was an influence on Desmond, but the person who collected his art passed away in the war, and the fate of his art is unknown.” The man went on to explain that Denzel was a historically significant artist from their kingdom, but because much of his work was lost, art museums had only a few sketches and prints to remember him by. Or so was the case until Fiona’s uncle, who traveled abroad frequently, found Denzel’s previously missing family. The family graciously gifted the Royal Art Academy with several of Denzel’s paintings.
“I see,” said Giles. “Well, that is good news.”
“It is, my lord, and it was quite fortuitous that we were able to get his sketches and notebooks as well. With those, we can see how his style changed as he interacted with other artists of the time.” The staff member continued to prattle on about Denzel, with Giles giving suitable responses along the way.
Having spent more time at the barony than in high society, Fiona was not adept at conversing with royalty and the upper nobility, but when it came to art-related news, she focused hungrily on all aspects of the conversation. Giles had once heard that she’d received assistance not only from her uncle (who had just come up in her conversation with Lister) but also Mrs. Bennett and the gallery owner Roche. Her eyes glittered with life as she chatted with the chief investigator.
Fiona had repeatedly expressed her desire to forgo marriage in order to keep her job, but when Giles first met her, he had no idea just how deeply entrenched she was in the art world. Now, those words of hers weighed heavy on his shoulders. He’d never thought deeply about anything related to art before he met Fiona, but she’d given him a new appreciation for it.
Paintings on their own were just paintings. Connecting the painter to the art appreciator and ensuring that the art was preserved for future generations required a facilitator—watching Fiona had made that quite clear. When they’d gone to art galleries together to advertise that they were a couple, Fiona had spoken to him at length about not only the art pieces on display, but also their backstories and the people working behind the scenes. It was clear just how deeply she cared about art preservation, and he came to understand the intentions she had in mind when deciding the order in which to display the art or trading pieces between museums. She’d whisper to him about it with joy in her voice.
Never before had Giles thought of a museum as anything more than a place to look at art. He was oblivious to the people working hard behind the scenes, and to the most important work of all: the research, management, and maintenance that the staff conducted. That complicated, necessary work happened away from the public eye and was so crucial, yet easy to forget—Fiona had revitalized his awareness of this. It was the same with the management and transportation arrangements Fiona had done at Gallery Roche. Confirming the location of an art piece, establishing connections with private collectors, and supporting artists—all of these plain, unglamorous tasks took place outside the spotlight, but every single one of them was vital.
The paintings that weaved together family history and memories belonged to private collectors. Only a greedy businessman would negotiate the sale and transfer of it dispassionately. Inspectors and art sellers needed an empathetic person who could connect with a client, someone they knew they could safely trust with their treasures. Giles was certain Fiona was going to be that person.
If she were a man, he thought, there would be no question of it.