their tastes and preferences.”
Miss Everleigh wrinkled her nose. “Yes, of course he does.
Some
auction houses trust in the quality of their curation to entice clientele. But my brother insists on cheap flattery and pandering.” Here she paused, obviously waiting to see if Lilah would take the bait and make the mistake of agreeing—and thereby insult her own employer.
Lilah offered a shy, bashful smile.
With a snort, Miss Everleigh snapped shut the book. “Quality,” she said, “and beauty are not solely the functions of the physical object itself—be it a vase, a painting, or a house.
Provenance
, Miss Marshall, is a key constituent of value. Is that word too French for you to grasp? History, then, is what I mean. The richer an object’s history, the more value it possesses. And this house”—she tipped her head toward the window, and the view it offered of the monstrous squat palace drawing nearer—“is rich in history, indeed.”
It seemed Lilah would be tutored, after all. “Yes, miss. I’m certain you’re right.”
“You need not take my word for it,” Miss Everleigh said crisply. “The Barons Hughley were descended directly from a member of the Conqueror’s court. They survived the War of the Roses, and the depredations of Henry Tudor. They saw Queen Elizabeth crowned. This house was built by one of her favored courtiers. Eustace de Hughley was his name.”
Her lifted brows suggested this name should mean something. Lilah wracked her brain, but try as she might, she could not recall reading of Eustace de Hughley during her visits to the library at Everleigh’s.
Catherine Everleigh sighed. “The astronomer.”
“The telescope!” Lilah’s exclamation made her new mistress twitch.
“Many telescopes,” Miss Everleigh said coldly.
“But surely one of the finest examples of his scientific acumen was the telescope auctioned at Everleigh’s as part of the Houston estate,” Lilah rejoined instantly. “Why, many scholars believe that that very specimen provided a crucial inspiration to Galileo.”
Her reward for this recitation—which she had repeated almost verbatim from the catalog for the Houston auction—was a slow blink from the woman opposite.
“Yes,” Miss Everleigh finally allowed. Before this triumph could register, she quickly continued, “Of course, it’s the women of the family who are most notable.” Her pause felt challenging.
Lilah could think of no satisfactory reply. She nodded.
“The Hughley women were visionaries,” Miss Everleigh said. “In every recorded generation, one findsevidence of spirited, noble, freethinking lady scholars. This house and its many alterations are almost solely the work of the Hughley women.”
Was that how Miss Everleigh saw herself? As spirited, noble, and freethinking? Fine euphemisms, Lilah thought darkly, for
rude
and
unfeeling
.
She checked herself. If she meant to win the woman’s trust, she could not afford to think this way. She must cultivate a sympathetic, interested, and transparently grateful air. “How lovely,” she said. “It’s so rare to hear of a noble family distinguished by its womenfolk.”
“Ladies,” Miss Everleigh said through her teeth.
Evidently
womenfolk
was one of those words that unwittingly betrayed Lilah’s origins. She made a note to strike it from her vocabulary. “I would be most grateful to learn more of the family’s history.”
“Indeed.” Miss Everleigh leaned forward again to gaze at the house, which was very nearly upon them now. “It will be an honor to walk in their footsteps,” she said more softly. “They managed so well to blend their scholarly pursuits with familial duty.”
Lilah’s instincts pricked. Was that a pensive note in Miss Everleigh’s voice? Very cautiously, she said, “They were great ladies.”
“And even greater matriarchs. All the Hughleys of note had several children. Happy families, by most accounts.” Miss Everleigh seemed now to have
Miss Everleigh wrinkled her nose. “Yes, of course he does.
Some
auction houses trust in the quality of their curation to entice clientele. But my brother insists on cheap flattery and pandering.” Here she paused, obviously waiting to see if Lilah would take the bait and make the mistake of agreeing—and thereby insult her own employer.
Lilah offered a shy, bashful smile.
With a snort, Miss Everleigh snapped shut the book. “Quality,” she said, “and beauty are not solely the functions of the physical object itself—be it a vase, a painting, or a house.
Provenance
, Miss Marshall, is a key constituent of value. Is that word too French for you to grasp? History, then, is what I mean. The richer an object’s history, the more value it possesses. And this house”—she tipped her head toward the window, and the view it offered of the monstrous squat palace drawing nearer—“is rich in history, indeed.”
It seemed Lilah would be tutored, after all. “Yes, miss. I’m certain you’re right.”
“You need not take my word for it,” Miss Everleigh said crisply. “The Barons Hughley were descended directly from a member of the Conqueror’s court. They survived the War of the Roses, and the depredations of Henry Tudor. They saw Queen Elizabeth crowned. This house was built by one of her favored courtiers. Eustace de Hughley was his name.”
Her lifted brows suggested this name should mean something. Lilah wracked her brain, but try as she might, she could not recall reading of Eustace de Hughley during her visits to the library at Everleigh’s.
Catherine Everleigh sighed. “The astronomer.”
“The telescope!” Lilah’s exclamation made her new mistress twitch.
“Many telescopes,” Miss Everleigh said coldly.
“But surely one of the finest examples of his scientific acumen was the telescope auctioned at Everleigh’s as part of the Houston estate,” Lilah rejoined instantly. “Why, many scholars believe that that very specimen provided a crucial inspiration to Galileo.”
Her reward for this recitation—which she had repeated almost verbatim from the catalog for the Houston auction—was a slow blink from the woman opposite.
“Yes,” Miss Everleigh finally allowed. Before this triumph could register, she quickly continued, “Of course, it’s the women of the family who are most notable.” Her pause felt challenging.
Lilah could think of no satisfactory reply. She nodded.
“The Hughley women were visionaries,” Miss Everleigh said. “In every recorded generation, one findsevidence of spirited, noble, freethinking lady scholars. This house and its many alterations are almost solely the work of the Hughley women.”
Was that how Miss Everleigh saw herself? As spirited, noble, and freethinking? Fine euphemisms, Lilah thought darkly, for
rude
and
unfeeling
.
She checked herself. If she meant to win the woman’s trust, she could not afford to think this way. She must cultivate a sympathetic, interested, and transparently grateful air. “How lovely,” she said. “It’s so rare to hear of a noble family distinguished by its womenfolk.”
“Ladies,” Miss Everleigh said through her teeth.
Evidently
womenfolk
was one of those words that unwittingly betrayed Lilah’s origins. She made a note to strike it from her vocabulary. “I would be most grateful to learn more of the family’s history.”
“Indeed.” Miss Everleigh leaned forward again to gaze at the house, which was very nearly upon them now. “It will be an honor to walk in their footsteps,” she said more softly. “They managed so well to blend their scholarly pursuits with familial duty.”
Lilah’s instincts pricked. Was that a pensive note in Miss Everleigh’s voice? Very cautiously, she said, “They were great ladies.”
“And even greater matriarchs. All the Hughleys of note had several children. Happy families, by most accounts.” Miss Everleigh seemed now to have
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