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police to get them for you?'
    She sniffed. 'Gallian police? You may as well ask a cat
to knit a jumper for you. Lovely uniforms, appalling
attention to detail.'
    Aubrey had an uncomfortable feeling about this
request. 'And what items am I looking for?'
    Duchess Maria glared at him for a moment, just for
practice. 'Some letters. From your grandfather to me.'
    Some time later, Aubrey left the library, his mind
awhirl with the City of Love and correspondence
between his grandmother and grandfather. It was a whole
world he'd never considered.
    He was on his way to the kitchen to see if he could
find something to eat when the door to the front
drawing room opened. His mother stood there appraising
him. 'Aubrey. At last. I need to see you.'

    L ADY R OSE'S DRAWING ROOM WAS AN ECLECTIC RIOT. Originally, it had been an unimaginative place with
sturdy furniture fit for a battleship. Lately, however, it had
been garnished with gaudy and exotic objects from Lady
Fitzwilliam's many overseas expeditions. Masks, beads,
dried tropical flowers and statuettes had gradually taken
over the room, much as jungle creepers would drape
themselves over any available tree.
    Lady Rose entered, frowning. When she reached what
had once been a mantelpiece but now was more like a
sea-shell museum, she turned. 'Sit, Aubrey, sit.'
    Aubrey looked around at the various heaps and mounds
of bark paintings, carved gourds and alpaca wool rugs.
    'Anywhere, anywhere. Push that grass skirt onto the
floor.'
    Aubrey did as he was told. His mother was obviously
after something, for her booted foot tapped and her
fingers drummed on the marble mantelpiece.
    'I've lost my assistant,' Lady Rose said abruptly.
    Aubrey considered this. 'Well, it was you who arranged
Caroline's place at the University of Lutetia.'
    'Yes, yes, and she well deserved it. Professor Lavoisier
will teach her a great deal about modern taxonomy. A
month spent with him will stand her in good stead
for when she goes up to Greythorn.' She gnawed her
lip. Aubrey sat back and admired the way his mother
was so unselfconscious about her beauty. In an age where
women of breeding spent inordinate hours primping,
Lady Rose Fitzwilliam was capable of dazzling any
gathering with her regal profile and her bright blue
eyes – with no effort required.
    'And you're going to Lutetia, quite coincidentally,'
she said.
    Aubrey smacked himself on the forehead and winced
as he hit his bruise. 'You're right. Caroline will be there!'
    'That was appalling, Aubrey. You'd be laughed off the
stage with an effort like that. Or booed off, if the play was
meant to be a comedy.'
    Aubrey wondered whether he should protest his innocence
in more strident terms, but he decided a flanking
manoeuvre may be wiser. 'Is there anything I can do for
you while I'm in Lutetia?'
    'I'm glad you asked. I want you visit a certain Dr
Romellier, an expert on the flightless birds of the islands
of the southern ocean. He's produced a monograph that
could shake the foundations of modern ornithology.'
    Aubrey must have looked unimpressed. 'It may not
sound momentous to you, Aubrey, but Dr Romellier has
been working on this for forty years. It's his life's work and
I want to show support for him.' She paused and chose
her words carefully. 'He's somewhat of a recluse, you see.'
    'Recluse.'
    'While I've never met him, I know people who have.
Some have called him difficult, some say he's just eccentric.
Others have called him unpredictable.'
    'And you want me to visit him.'
    'You'll need to find him first. He's quite secretive about
where he lives, but one of his letters, some time ago, let
slip that he's close to the university. He complained, you
see, about being woken every morning by the clock over
the Theology Building when it starts ringing at six.'
    'How important is this?'
    'How important is your trip to Lutetia?' His mother
smiled sweetly. 'I've been wondering, you see, about
where I'm going to find a replacement assistant. I'd need
someone young,