Linley glanced from Berenice to the white-faced attendant, to a clueless Patrick, and then back to Berenice. “What do you mean?”
“Nudity,” the woman spat. “How could your father have approved our coming here? This is no place for a lady! And Lord Kyre,” she said, turning upon an unsuspecting Patrick. “You should have had the good sense not to escort Miss Talbot-Martin here!”
If it had not been so ridiculous, Linley might have found it all funny. “Berenice, if the sight of the classical male form makes you uncomfortable—”
Without listening to another word, Berenice grabbed her by the arm and led her back through the Roman and Grecian antiquities, throwing her hand up to shield Linley’s eyes from the statues of naked men and women.
“We cannot leave!” Linley argued. “I haven’t even seen Elgin’s marbles. Or the Egyptian exhibits!”
Patrick stayed a few steps behind them, trying not to draw attention to himself or the situation. People in the museum knew his face. Some even tipped their hats in recognition. No doubt that pack of women and their mothers already started gossip about seeing Lord Kyre at the museum with an unknown young woman. And to think he imagined spending a quiet afternoon with Linley! This was not going his way at all, and if he didn’t do something about it, the entire day would be ruined.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Excuse me,” he said, catching up with them. “But I do believe Miss Talbot-Martin is right. There is still a great deal left to see, and I doubt all of it is offensive.”
Berenice stopped and turned to him. “As her chaperone, it is I who am responsible for protecting Miss Talbot-Martin’s sensibilities, Lord Kyre, not you.”
“But this is a museum of art,” Patrick argued. “It’s not as if I’m suggesting she walk through a room full of men with their trousers down.”
At that remark, Linley could not help but burst into giggles, and immediately clamped her hand over her mouth to keep quiet.
“You!” Berenice glared at her. “You think this is funny. Shame on you!”
Linley pursed her lips and tried to compose a straight face.
“If you intend on taking her through the rest of this wretched place,” Berenice said, almost going so far as to jab a finger into Patrick’s chest, “you will do it with no help from me!”
Patrick and Linley stood with mouths agape as Berenice stormed out of the museum. At least two-dozen pairs of eyes turned in their direction. If Patrick’s calculations were right, he and Linley would be the principal topic of London gossip by dinnertime.
He cleared his throat and straightened his necktie. “Should we follow her?”
“No,” Linley said. “I think it best we leave her alone.”
***
Past the Roman Gallery and the three Greco-Roman rooms lay one of the most famous collections in all of the British Museum: the Elgin Marbles. Originally part of the Parthenon, Lord Elgin brought these priceless works back from Athens, and in 1816, he sold them to the British Government. Linley traveled to Greece many times throughout her life, often visiting the Acropolis, and always dreaming of the day when she would see the marbles for herself. As she walked through the vast collection, she imagined how they once looked situated across the pediments of the Parthenon.
Many of the sculptures were severely damaged—some missing heads, others missing limbs. Some were only heads, having lost their bodies millennia ago. Slabs of marble lined the perimeter of the room, friezes depicting an Athenian processional before the Gods. Some fragments showed chariots and horses, others showed Grecian maidens. Linley studied them all with equal curiosity.
“They are so much more beautiful than I imagined,” she said, her voice wavering at the sight of the east pediment sculptures depicting Athena’s birth.
Patrick was more struck by her reaction than to the sculptures themselves. “Are you crying?” he asked, pulling a white handkerchief from his sleeve and handing it to her.
Linley dabbed her eyes, more than a little embarrassed of her emotions. Turning from Athena, she strolled around the rest of the room, stopping here and there to admire a sculpture, sometimes giving little anecdotes, sometimes too breathless even for words. Patrick kept up as best he could, asking questions only to hear the wonderment in her voice, pointing out some interesting element just to see her eyes shine.
One thing he did not expect to draw such a marked reaction from her was a statue of a headless, partially armless, male nude. Utterly speechless, Linley studied the marble man spread out before her. She tilted her head to one side and then to the other.
Patrick stood beside her, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets. He noticed the pink tint creeping across her cheeks and thought that something ought to be said.
“Haven’t you ever seen a naked man before?” he asked. “I should think the sight of artfully represented male organs would be quite common in your line of work.”