My Gentleman Thief

Chapter Two

Chapter TwoYiannis expected the footman answering his knock at the home of Lord Pemberton-Howe to be more bleary-eyed than he was. After all, it wasn't much past eight in the morning. But the man looked like he’d been up for hours and welcomed Yiannis into the house with a cheerful smile, showing him into the drawing room.

“Lord Pemberton-Howe should be with you in a moment, sir, if you would have a seat?” the footman said, indicating the dark red-and-white striped sofa.

Yiannis gave him a nod and a smile before the fellow left, closing the door behind him.

Sounds of dishes clattering nearby and the scent of meat and coffee made Yiannis’s mouth water. The food on the ship had been barely palatable. His father had warned him that English food was bland and boring, but he’d be happy for anything fresh at this point.

It was a difficult, stomach-growling fifteen minutes before a white-haired man popped into the room. His coat and waistcoat hung open and a hastily tied neckcloth brushed his chin.

“Mr. Istoriakis! Yiannis, if I may,” the man said, coming in. A smile stretched across his well-worn face.

Yiannis stood. “My lord,” he presumed. He bowed.

“Yes, yes.” The gentleman waved away Yiannis’s formality and embraced him, kissing both his cheeks. “My God, I would never have recognized you. You were but a small lad when I last saw you.”

Yiannis laughed. “I wish I could say that I remember you, my lord, but…”

“No, no. I certainly don’t expect you to remember. Why, you were much too involved in your games—and what was it? Drawing, no?—to have any interest in the talk of two old archaeologists like your father and me.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I was always sketching something,” Yiannis admitted. “And little has changed since then.”

“I look forward to hearing all about it—and what brings you here to London. Please sit down. No, wait! You must come and join me for breakfast. Have you eaten yet?” his lordship said, taking a step back toward the door.

“I can’t say that I have, considering what they served on board the ship. To call it food would be entirely too generous,” Yiannis said, grateful for the invitation.

Lord Pemberton-Howe laughed. “Yes, it is awful what they get away with, isn’t it? Well, come, we’ll give you a proper breakfast.”

“Thank you. Oh, and my father sends you this.” Yiannis pulled out the letter of introduction that his father had sent with him, not that it had been needed since his name had been enough for his lordship to welcome him into his home.

The man broke the seal on the letter as he led the way to the room next door. A small dining table and a sideboard were laden with all the dishes Yiannis had been smelling.

“Help yourself, help yourself,” Lord Pemberton-Howe said, waving distractedly toward the sideboard, not lifting his eyes from the letter. A frown creased his forehead, and he dropped down into the chair at the head of the table. A footman immediately filled a cup in front of him with rich coffee.

“I hope there is nothing disturbing,” Yiannis said, watching his host.

“What? Oh, no, no. You know, just news from a dear old friend. Catching up,” the man said, with hardly a glance up from the missive.

Yiannis couldn’t imagine what his father had written to cause Lord Pemberton-Howe to frown. He forced himself to focus on filling a plate with delicious food and not watch his host's expressive face instead. Still, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Lord Pemberton-Howe as he read through the letter.

At one point, Lord Pemberton-Howe raised his eyes and caught Yiannis watching him. After that, the only expression on the man’s face as he finished reading the letter was the rise and lowering of his thick, white eyebrows from time to time. Once he grunted and then the next moment he chuckled, but that was the extent of it.

Finally, he carefully folded the letter and set it aside to focus his attention on the plate of food the footman had set in front of him.

It was all Yiannis could do to keep from asking straight out what his father had written. When the silence had dragged on as long as he could stand, Yiannis finally said, “My father has asked me to locate and sketch whatever ancient Greek artifacts I can find here in England.”

“Yes, so he mentioned in his letter,” his lordship said in between bites.

Yiannis waited for more, but once again his host was not forthcoming. Yiannis was ready to tear out his hair at the man’s reticence.

“He didn’t happen to mention why he sent me to complete this task?” Yiannis asked in as off-hand a way as he could.

“He must have given you some sort of explanation before you left, no?” the man said, excellently evading the question.

Yiannis took a gulp of his cooling coffee. “Just that he was worried too many artifacts were being removed from Greece.”

“Indeed,” his lordship nodded. “This is quickly becoming a serious problem. Ever since Elgin, more and more people—under the pretense of ‘saving’ these cultural artifacts—are taking pieces out of the country. The fact that this practice is being legitimized by the English government, through the British Museum, is especially disturbing.”

“Yes,” Yiannis agreed. But there had to be more to his father’s directive. Yiannis had had the past three weeks on board the ship from Athens to try to come up with a good reason for this trip. He had already thought of—and dismissed—the obvious answer Lord Pemberton-Howe had just given him. “He gives no other explanation?” Yiannis pressed.

His host’s eyebrows rose, crinkling his forehead. “Did you expect something more? This is a serious problem, Yiannis. I agree with your father that it would be good to have some sort of registry, don’t you?”

Yiannis hadn’t thought an archaeologist would be so good at vague answers. He gave up—for the time being. “Yes, of course, my lord.”

Lord Pemberton-Howe took a sip of his coffee then said, “Your father mentioned that funds will be coming to you from his bank in Germany. Until then you will, I hope, consider this your home. It is just Thalia and me here. We live quietly. You would be most welcome to stay.”

Yiannis was touched by his lordship’s generosity. “Thank you, sir, that is very kind.” He paused, considered his next words carefully then asked, “Thalia, my lord? I was given to understand that Lady Pemberton-Howe had, er, expired some time ago.”

His lordship’s lips quirked up for a second—Yiannis couldn’t tell if it was a smile or an attempt to hold back an expression of distress. “Yes. Thalia is my youngest daughter. She’s a bit of a handful, but, well, she has a good heart.”

“Oh, I see.” No, he really didn’t see at all. What did it mean that she was a handful? A handful of what? Her absence at breakfast made Yiannis wonder what her age was. He could only assume that she was a young child and therefore eating in the nursery. Otherwise, surely she would have joined them.

“And now about this task of yours. Have you given any thought, or has your father given you any direction as to how you are to find these artifacts?” Lord Pemberton-Howe asked.

“No, my father gave me no instructions beyond ‘find them,’” Yiannis admitted. “I have given it some thought. To begin with, I imagine that there must be an archaeological society of some sort?”

“Yes, yes. Excellent idea. There is indeed, and I shall be happy to introduce you at our next meeting on Wednesday.”

“Thank you,” Yiannis nodded. “And what about the universities? Oxford and Cambridge? Surely they have men in residence who teach history who might have purchased artifacts either for their own studies or for their own private collections?”

Lord Pemberton-Howe nodded. “They, too, would be members of the archaeological society. They don’t attend every meeting, but do come quite frequently.”

“And I was hoping that you might know of any others?” Yiannis offered his last idea.

“I might. Fungy and Rose might as well.”

Yiannis’s fork froze in mid-air. He looked at his host. “What is Fungy and Rose?”

Lord Pemberton-Howe laughed. “Not what, my boy, who. Rose is my oldest daughter. Fungy—St. John Fotheringay-Phipps, but we all just call him Fungy—is her husband. Very nice fellow. Very knowledgeable about all sorts of things. It was quite a surprise, but, well…” He chuckled. “When you meet him, you’ll understand.”