evening watching movies in Derrick’s room. Maybe it had been the distraction. Maybe it had been feeling like she’d been a part of something more interesting than the endless cataloging of Victorian artifacts and the chewing out of low-level museum staff. Maybe it had been feeling safe—and that in spite of the fact that the one who could have protected her most easily had been unconscious and, yes, drooling.
She supposed what she had currently were less the shakes than they were simply restlessness over what to do at present. She supposed there was no reason for her to stay any longer, but she hadn’t wanted to simply ditch Derrick before she could—
Well, she had no idea what she intended to do. Thank him for the all-expense-paid trips to Elizabethan England? Apologize again for racking up stuff on his credit card? Ask him for his address so she would know where to send the checks to start paying off that debt?
And since she hadn’t been able to face any of that, she had instead done the unthinkable and arranged a still life on the table in front of her. She had taken out her sketch pad and a pencil.
And she was too terrified to use either.
“Interesting subject.”
She tipped her chair over backward in her surprise. In fact, she tipped it so far, that she went with it. She wasn’t sure if she was more hurt or embarrassed, but the haste with which she was trying to get herself back on her feet left her little time to think about it. She had help, which surprised her. Derrick kept his hand on her arm until he apparently thought she wasn’t going to fling herself anywhere else, then he let go of her and leaned over to pick up her chair. He held on to it for a moment or two, apparently trying to catch his breath, then looked at her.
“We’re quite a pair,” he managed.
“You startled me,” she said. She looked at him critically. “At least your eyes aren’t crossed any longer.”
“A fact for which I am enormously grateful.” He moved to lean against the dresser. “What are you up to there?”
She took a deep breath. “Nothing yet.”
“I pulled you out of your happy place, perhaps.”
“Nope,” she said with a shrug. “I didn’t have any inspiration. Actually, I don’t have any talent, I’m afraid.”
He regarded her steadily. “And who told you that?”
“No one had to,” she said with a light, careless laugh. “I have two good eyes.”
“Maybe you should silence your inner critic before he destroys all your pleasure in something you might be very good at.”
She struggled to mask her surprise. “Aren’t you supportive today,” she said.
“I’m not fond of critics,” he said mildly. “And if you’re willing to turn your back on everything you’ve done to this point in favor of art, it’s likely very important to you.”
She let her mouth fall open as it wanted so desperately to. “How did you know I was turning my back on things?”
“You introduced yourself as an artist, not an historian. If that’s the case, it’s fairly logical to assume you don’t want to be associated with your past.” He tilted his head slightly. “Is that about right?”
“Who are you?”
“A student of the species,” he said wryly. He shoved his hands in his pockets, only wincing slightly. “Am I right or have I completely misread you? Well, past that initial misreading, of course.”
She shrugged helplessly. “Honestly, at this point I don’t have any idea who I am or what I want to do. I don’t even know what to do with the rest of the day, much less my life.”
“Well, let’s deal with today,” he suggested, “and go make an old man very happy. The rest will sort itself with enough time.”
She couldn’t say she had that much faith in the ability of time to right things, but she was willing to at least go listen to his plans. She made herself comfortable on the sofa, then watched him rub his shoulder gingerly after he’d sat down as well.
“Hurt?”
“Healing,” he clarified, “which is less painful than it is annoying. But I’m grateful.” He sat back and looked at her. “So, now we have to decide what we’re going to do.”
“We?” she echoed.
“We,” he said. “Until the general word is out that we have the lace back in our possession, I don’t think you’re safe.”
“And just how am I going to fix that?” She was appalled to find that her mouth was so dry,