Chapter 11
McDuff delighted in the unusual sensation of an outsider being allowed a peek into a secret world.
The sitting room at the residence was once again clear of the remains of breakfast, with only the teakettle at the ready. The table in the middle of the room was nearly as cluttered as when Jean was deep in her own research.
Stacks of blank paper and envelopes and a scatter of the most elaborate fountain pens and ink pots he’d ever seen. A selection of Victoria’s clockwork toys he knew so well. Jean’s familiar candles scattered about, and a few books she’d dug out of her trunks.
The scent of dried flowers and herbs drifted through the room, chasing away the remnants of toasting bread. Victoria had packed several jars-full in her gigantic bag covered in paisley fabric.
She and
