Grantham Archives and Museum, Present Day

Anna moved the strap of her bag over her shoulder and stopped when she saw John, sitting on the wall outside the museum, absently kicking his foot against the stone as he ate breakfast from a series of fast-food wrappers. She stopped just below him and shook her head. "You eat like my son."

"As if I'm enjoying life?"

"As if you want clogged arteries before you're my age." Anna shook her head again at him. "Do you consider that professional?"

"I'm not on the clock." He cleaned up his mess and hopped down from the wall, limping a moment as he caught himself. "And I'm in my twenties so, according to science, I'll live forever."

"That's not remotely true and whatever scientist told you that was lying through their teeth." Anna motioned him to follow her. "And you shouldn't risk damaging your knee like that. It's dangerous."

"I've had it long enough to know my limits."

"People your age, as you intimated, think they're invincible so I don't think you know your limits as well as you might believe you do. Perhaps not at all." Anna showed her ID badge to the guard and pointed at John. "He's with me."

The guard nodded them through the doors and Anna jerked a step away when John exuberantly moved next to her. "Must you have so much energy?"

"I'm just excited about saving art."

"It's a very technical process that should be untaken with great care."

"Do you worry my exuberance might lead to some kind of unintended consequences?" He waved his hand in the air, as if encompassing an unspecific thought. "Like I'll have too much energy and be so enthusiastic I ruin a priceless piece of art?"

"It's possible." Anna rolled back her shoulders slightly. "The work we do requires precision and an extraordinarily steady hand."

"Doesn't make it less fun."

She paused, frowning slightly at the confusing smile on his face. "Is that what drives you, fun?"

"In general or about this work?"

"I don't much care what drives you outside of the work you do in my offices. And since I'll never ask about what you do outside work then you should know that the only subject that interests me about you will be the work you do."

"My work is the only thing about me that you'll ever care about?"

"I cannot say that it is the only thing I'll ever care about but, for the moment, it's the only thing about you that interests me." Anna raised her eyebrow, "Why, is there anything else about you that I should care about?"

"I would think there's a lot more about me that you should care about if we're to become friends."

"You're assuming we'll be friends."

"I'd like us to me."

Anna thought a moment before pursing her lips and nodding. "I'll take the matter under consideration."

"I'm flattered you'll consider it." John smiled, "And yes, what drives me about the work we do is that it's fun."

"I disagree but I won't attempt to dissuade you in your delusion."

"You're assuming it's delusional to find what you do fun."

"No, I find the delusion in believing the work you do should be fun." Anna shook her head, "There's a place for fun and a place for work. As far as I'm concerned, nary shall the twain meet."

"Then allow me to ask," John nodded at her, "What drives you?"

Anna stopped, her hand on the handle for the door to their office. "Beauty, I think. But I've not considered it in a long time so perhaps the reason's changed."

She pulled the door open and walked quickly to her office, counting her steps as she went. But John kept pace and joined her in the space, taking the stool at his desk to sit. "How've you not thought about it in a long time?"

"What?" She turned to him from where she turned on her computer and set her desk in order for the day.

"How've you not thought about what drives you to do the work you do?" John shrugged, "If it's possibly changed then why wouldn't you've thought about it?"

"I've not thought about it recently because the last person who asked me why I do what I do was my husband and he knew the answer once I told him." Anna paused, her fingers settling on a piece of leather hanging from the strap of her bag to run over the texture. "Since no one else has ever asked I've not told anyone else why I do it. And since I've not spoken about it I've not thought about my reasoning or considered the possibility of it changing."

"That's fair." John's fingers tapped on his stool and Anna forced herself back to readying herself for the day. His voice broke her concentration and she turned back to him. "What did you tell him?"

"About what?"

"What did you tell your husband about the reasoning for why you do what you do for a living?"

"I told him the same thing I told you." Anna signed into her computer and arranged her seat just so before sitting. "It's not a secret or a mystery to me."

"It could've been private."

Frowning, she cocked her head slightly and looked at him. "If you thought it would be private then why did you ask?"

John gave her a little shrug and a smile. "I figured if you asked first then it must've been alright for me to return the question."

"I guess that is fair but that's not what I meant."

"No?"

""No," Anna turned her chair slightly to look at him, "I meant why ask me about why I hadn't thought about my justifications for doing what I do.""

"Because it's not in any of the interviews, of the few you've actually given, and none of the articles you've written talk about what drives you to do what you do here at the Archives."

Anna frowned slightly, "You've read all my interviews?"

"And your articles."

"Why?"

"I knew I was going to be working with you and I thought I should know more about you."

"That seems a wise decision." Anna paused, "It wasn't because you thought the phrase 'know your enemy' applied, was it?"

"No." John frowned, "Wait, did you just make a joke?"

"I don't think so." Anna shook her head and addressed her emails. "And as for never giving my justification for why I do what I do for a living in either interviews or articles, it's because I try to stay on topic when I'm being interrogated."

"Don't you mean 'interviewed'?"

"It's the same thing to me." Her finger tapped the mouse on her computer once. "But since you mentioned interviews, I researched you a little."

John stopped, "You did?"

"I did. Thoroughly."

"I'm flattered." The smile stretched over his face and Anna catalogued the expression. "Did you like what you found?"

"I am sure my opinion on what I found would not change the result one way or another so it's irrelevant."

"Not to me."

Anna sighed, tapping her finger three times on the mouse before speaking again. "I was intrigued."

"That's a loaded word."

"Hence why I chose it." Anna turned back to her computer. "I choose all my words with care. Or I try to. It's senseless to waste them. And even more irresponsible to use the wrong word."

"And 'intrigued' is the right word for what you are about me?"

"I never said I was intrigued by you, Mr. Bates." Anna tapped her finger once on her mouse. "I said I was intrigued by what I found."

"And why, Mrs. Smith, would what you found intrigue you?"

"Because what I found was someone who's either pretending at being an artist or has the capacity to be a very good one."

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended by that comment."

"And I'm not sure how you should feel about the comment either since it's simply a statement." Anna shrugged, "But your biography reads a bit like something I'd expect from a future Hemingway."

"He did spend time with Picasso."

"Then pardon me for not being clear," Anna faced John. "I do not believe talent rubs off by simply being near people of skill or working closely with those who have the talents you'd like to acquire."

"And your point is?"

"My point is that I'm intrigued as to what someone like yourself, so obviously filled with the exuberance of youth and the invulnerability, as you put it, that comes from such a feeling, is doing in work that requires great attention to detail and an extraordinarily steady hand."

"Because you believe I don't have a steady enough hand?"

"As I said earlier, I don't quite trust the level of energy you emit."

"And you think a knock-off Hemingway couldn't hack this sort of work?"

"Honestly , I don't know."

John snorted, "Then why make the reference?"

"Because it seemed apt." Anna took a breath, "I don't read fiction and what non-fiction I've read about Hemingway leaves me very conflicted."

"About me?"

"About the type of man he was and the kind of man your personal biography would paint you to be." Anna interlaced her fingers and ensured her elbows aligned with the edge of her desk. "I do not want to be conflicted about you if we're to work together in any long-term capacity."

"And what would soothe your ruffled feathers about me?"

"You're assuming my feathers are ruffled."

"Aren't they?"

"I don't have feathers and they don't ruffle." Anna looked him up and down, "Not even by someone as energetic as you."

"Well," John leaned back, "Then what I can promise is that I'm stable, able, and completely capable. As for the rest of it… I think energy is exactly what a department like this would need."

"And why is that?"

"Well, you're expanding and if I heard rightly from some wanker muttering under his breath near the lifts when I came in yesterday, you're about to make some potentially revolutionary changes that I believe take a bit more gusto than the aged and decrepit board members of this Archive have in them."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "You don't hold back do you?"

"Where would that get me but disappointed?"

"Perhaps a bit farther with those who might otherwise consider you cocky."

"As you said I said," John shrugged, his smile larger and wider as it joined Anna's internal catalogue. "I'm young and invulnerable."

"Even to the opinions and judgments of others?"

"To everything."

"You hope you are." Anna sighed and stood up. It took her a moment to set her chair in the right place before coming around her desk. "Let's get you started then. I'd hate to waste your boundless energy."

She guided them away from the offices and toward the larger space where two painters worked with fine-tipped brushes to touch up corners of the same painting. Moving around them, Anna brought John to a room she unlocked with a door code. He whistled and she turned to him.

"Why did you do that?"

"You've got a door code on this one."

"Is there something significant about a door code?"

"If it's part of additional security inside an already ID-card locked studio space." John nodded at the covered canvases in the room. "It tells me something important's kept in here and I'm lucky enough to see it."

"You are." Anna put up a hand to stop him. "Stand here and please do not move until I come back to you."

He obeyed as Anna circled the room, uncovering the paintings as she walked the circuit. When she returned to him, she noted his expression before speaking. "This is one of the ambitious projects you want to be a part of."

"What is it?"

"The result of almost a decade of searching and cultivation on my part." Anna bit the inside of her cheek, "And quite a bit of my personal funds… much to my late husband's consternation."

"Your late husband helped pay for this?"

"Yes, he did."

"Why?"

"Because he loved me and I loved him." Anna swallowed, "And it helped that my son aided in tracking down at least two of these paintings."

"And they are?"

Anna waved her hand toward them. "These are the pieces of the 'Beloved' series that the Archive now holds in its possession."

"The what series?"

"The 'Beloved' series. At least that's what I call them." Anna took a deep breath, her fingers worrying a piece of leather between her thumb and forefinger. "They were painted by the Duchess of Cranburchurry herself in the eighteen-nineties as a gift to the man with whom she had an affair."

"Ah." John nodded, "I've heard of her."

"Good." Anna crossed her arms over her chest and pivoted to face him. "Because this'll be your project. Exclusively."

John blinked at her, "What?"

"You said you've got energy and exuberance." Anna nodded back toward the paintings. "These need to be ready by the first of February."

"You're entrusting me with this series?"

"Well, with most of the series." Anna sighed, "I think we're still missing a few of the paintings but I've got feelers out for them."

"Feelers?"

"Well, my son's in the process of trying to track down the missing paintings." Anna clutched the piece of leather before speaking again. "Once we get more details then we'll find the missing works."

"And what," John pursed his lips, "Exactly or specifically are you using to find these paintings?"

"A number of various documents but, more specifically, the Duchess's personal diaries."

"You've got her personal diaries?"

"We have what some of them." Anna shrugged, "The Museum did an exhibit on scandals of the latter end of the Eighteen-Hundreds and early Nineteen-Hundreds and, in that process, the Archival Department happened to find a set of diaries belonging to the Duchess of Cranburchurry."

"That's impressive."

"It would've been more impressive if we'd found all of them." Anna made a face. "She was noted for being a rather prolific writer and almost infamous for her personal journaling. So when some of her diaries were found it was a significant discover but whether or not they were her real diaries is still a contested issue among not only those in the Archive but the wider art community."

"You don't think they're her real diaries?"

"No." Anna shook her head, "I think she had two sets of diaries."

"Because she was such a prolific writer?"

"Not just because of that."

"What other reason would anyone have for keeping two sets of diaries?"

"Because she acknowledged once, in a letter to a Mrs. Gwen Harding, that she knew her husband was reading her diary to keep track of her movements and thoughts." Anna shook her head, "Given the invasion of privacy for something so intimate, it's not a surprise she'd keep a second, real diary."

"I'd just stop writing but I've never kept a diary so I'm probably not the best judge of what to do when someone's nosing in on your life."

"We all need somewhere to keep the thoughts we don't want to share with others and, perhaps, shouldn't share with others."

"So she kept a second, real, diary for salacious content?"

Anna shrugged, "Or simply for her real thoughts."

"Why would she need somewhere else for her real thoughts?"

"Because women, historically, have to watch everything they say or do around men in case one of them, with little provocation except his own rage, chooses to take it as justification for enacting violence where she will be the victim." Anna held John's gaze. "And perhaps because she wanted something in her life to be private and only for her to share when she felt like it."

"Fair." John chewed his cheek a moment. "Or she wanted to keep her salacious thoughts to herself."

"Either way," Anna waved off the comment, "I know the second set of diaries is where she hid the details for the rest of her 'Beloved' series and I want to find those diaries so I can find the rest of the paintings."

"Because you're sure there are more of them?"

"Of course." Anna pointed at the works of art circling the room. "They tell a story and the story's unfinished."

"Is it?"

Anna nodded, "There are obvious gaps in the narrative she tried to tell through her works here and I want to fill them. I want to finish helping tell the story she wanted someone to know."

"How can you tell?"

"Tell what?"

John waved his hand at the paintings. "How can you tell that there are gaps in the story she's telling?"

"Because I know, from the information I gathered and the paintings in front of me, that she painted these for the two most important people in her life." Anna ticked them off on her fingers, "One set for the man she had an affair with and the other set for the son they had."

"And you got all that from her fake diaries and these paintings?"

"I got all that from a massive collection of gathered documents the Archive put together for their exhibit." Anna sighed, "Some of those documents we only had on loan so I had to work very quickly to put together the narrative I have. More to the point, the information I gathered led me to know this is the order for these paintings and that my collection is incomplete."

"That case," John cleared his throat, "I can say that the order is almost right and your meticulously cultivated collection here is incomplete."

Anna frowned, "Almost right?"

"Yes, almost." John pointed, "Those two need to be switched."

"What?" Anna looked between him and the paintings. "How do you know?"

"Because I own the second set of paintings the Duchess of Cranburchurry made." John sucked the inside of his cheek. "Specifically, I have the set she painted for her son."

Anna blinked at him, "How do you…"

"The Duchess of Cranburbhurry was my great-great-grandmother." He shrugged, "Angelina 'Anna' Islington Smith, Duchess of Cranburchurry."

"Then you're…" Anna thought a moment, "Then you're the Duke of –"

"Heavens no." John shuddered, "My family's never had the title. And if we ever did then we lost it a long time ago."

"How'd you lose the title?"

"Illegitimate children tend to do cause a bit of a ruckus in the genealogy."

"Then you're not nobility?"

"Not even gentry." John shrugged, "But there's still a shit-ton of money in my immediate family so we're spoiled rotten."

Anna frowned, "You said your mother was a custodian."

"Yes…" John flexed his jaw. "She was… just not the kind that pushes a cleaning cart."

"Then what kind of custodian was she?"

"The kind who donates a lot of money to good causes."

"And you said she was a custodian because…"

"It makes me look a little less like a rick prick." John shrugged, "And, in fairness to the definition of 'custodian', my mother donated to those smaller museums I said she took me to as a child."

"She donated to them?"

"Yes." John nodded, "As a way to encourage the arts and expand their accessibility so more people could enjoy them."

"How kind of her."

"She always thought money was a tool that should be used to help and serve those about us."

Anna studied John a moment, "And your internship? Was that something your money provided?"

"No. That I got myself." John hurried from the topic and pointed at the paintings. "But, more to the point, you're missing three paintings from this collection… Which I assume is the set the Duchess made for her lover."

"Please don't use that word?"

"Why not?"

"Because I hate it." Anna wrapped her arms around herself. "Which three paintings am I missing from the series?"

"There's supposed to be one of the child they had-"

"Your ancestor?"

"Yes. And…" John walked the line of paintings and pointed between two. "There's one that belongs here. I think it's of a ship they co-owned. And here…"

John stopped between another two paintings. "It's supposed to be Parliament. The place they first met."

"And you know this because the collection you have includes those paintings as part of the narrative?"

John cringed, "It's part of how I know about the ones you're missing."

Anna stayed silent a moment. "You've got the second set of dairies in your possession, haven't you?"

"They came with the paintings."

"That didn't answer my question."

John shuffled in place, "Yes, I've got them."

"Hence your comment about the salacious nature of the content in them." Anna waited but John refused to meet her eyes, "I apologize, that was a question."

"Yes, that's why I made a comment about the salacious nature of their content." John bit at the inside of his cheek, "I've read them a few times."

"I imagine you have."

John shuffled in place and Anna noted the change in his posture, stance, and general mood as he spoke, "I'm going to guess you're not exactly impressed with me at the moment, are you?"

Anna blinked at him, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I…" John's face twitched through a few degrees of confusion before settling on one where his brain's gears worked to understand Anna's response. "Well, I guess I assume that because I deceived you you'd be… upset, maybe?"

"Mr. Bates," Anna closed the distance between them, standing straight. "Your personal life is none of my business. How you wank in private and to what, is none of my business. How much money you have, the way you got into my department or my office, are all none of my concern."

She shifted her weight slightly, "I can honestly say that I don't much care how you know the information you know about this collection, or its scandal, in general as long as you'll share that expertise and knowledge with me."

John blinked at her. "Are you serious?"

"I told you, I don't know how to joke."

He swallowed, "Then you'll keep me on?"

"I'd be an idiot to allow the nearest thing I've got to an expert on this passion project of mine to leave." Anna loosened the hold of her arms around herself. "And it tells me that I made the right choice in putting the restoration of these paintings in your care."

"You're sure about that?"

"Enough to not change my mind about the decision."

John's face eased slightly toward a smile. Not the rambunctious or slightly cocky one from before but an almost giddy, bashful one. "I do know what I'm talking about when it comes to this series."

"Then that only leaves one question."

John frowned, "What question is that?"

"Whether or not you can help me find the missing pieces in the collection I've got so they'll be ready for our exhibit."

He shrugged, the smile gaining a cocky edge. "It's worth a try."

"Then you'd better get working, Mr. Bates."

England, 1880

"I'm not sure the pair we make," He kept pace with her, his cane making them equals. "But we seem to be of increasing interest."

"Two scandals in one place is like watching stars explode I suppose." Anna kept next to him, her gaze on the pond. "But I find that pretending no one is around serves as the best cure for it."

"Experienced in this?"

"I was already a subject of rumor before my husband went missing." Anna snorted, "If you need to, you can lean on my not insignificant experience."

"I can't imagine you're one to attract scandal."

"It was more scandal by association but it came to me so often I had to adopt it as my own." Anna shrugged, "Such is life."

"May I enquire as to the nature of the scandal or should I assume it was because of your husband and his…"

"Not so insignificant reputation?"

"At least you're not ignorant of it."

"I don't blush about it either as I've no time for self-pity when I'm consistently cleaning up the mess he left me." Anna sighed, "Such is the life I was doomed to lead, if Lady Mary is to be believed."

"May I ask…" John bit his lip, "What, exactly, made your husband so infamously popular as a topic of conversation?"

"This time it's because his boat to India's gone missing." Anna shrugged a shoulder, "Some say the weather took it and others claim pirates but the point of the matter is that it never arrived in Bombay, as it was supposed to, and he's been declared missing."

"That must be quite a burden for you to bear."

"On the contrary I don't mind it."

"Truly?"

"Truly." Anna gave a definitive nod. "Having him being the topic of conversation because he's missing is markedly better than him being the interesting story because he owes a great deal of money to a number of people, both of title and without. Or because he's been seen whoring with characters of equally ill repute."

John cringed, "That's why everyone speaks about him?"

"It's the public reason why everyone speaks about him." Anna paused, pulling the two of them to a halt. John's eyes flicked to see a trio of women glance in their direction. They spoke behind their hands and then hurried away when they noticed John watching them. "Don't worry about them."

"Sorry?" John turned back to Anna and she nodded at the departing women.

"The people watching us." Anna discreetly pointed to another group farther up the path and a duo that continued to look in their direction from the tree line. "I'm used to it and, if you continue courting me, you will too."

"I will?"

"Of course." Anna forced a smile and a pose for a second. "I'm the black widow and you, dear sir, are the next target in my particularly macabre crusade to marry men doomed for death."

"Do they believe you killed your husband?"

"There is talk, according to Lady Mary, that I'm suspected of being partly involved in my husband's disappearance." Anna took a breath, "Not that I wouldn't be justified in such an effort but it wouldn't be worth my time."

"It gives me great comfort that you didn't cause your husband's disappearance and, by default, his death."

"If I had been, it would've made being the target of public scrutiny far more interesting."

"From experience I doubt that." John tapped his leg with his cane. "Questions and speculations are one thing but when people grasp even a kernel of the truth they tear into it like dogs until there's nothing left."

"I'll take your word for it." Anna heaved a sigh, "Since I've no connection to my husband's disappearance save for the lack of tears I've shed about it."

John stopped, "Did he really treat you so poorly that you'd not even mourn him if it was found that he died?"

"We didn't marry for love so I can't say it would break my heart." Anna set them walking again. "And given how he treated our marriage, not to mention me, I would say that history will judge me as harshly as it can but it will not last."

"No?"

"Of course not." Anna waved it away, "How could it judge me cruelly for not loving a man who does not love me and never did?"

"I don't." John rotated his hand on the head of his cane as they continued walking. "But is that the only thing you worry that history will judge?"

"It's all I would allow them to judge, if I had the choice."

"We don't get that choice." John gave a shrug of his own. "Unfortunately."

"There is much about life that's unfortunate." Anna took a breath. "One of those things being how disappointed my husband made me."

"Because of what he did?"

"Because of what he didn't do." Anna scoffed, "Even with how low I kept my standards for him, he still let me down."

"It's always tragic how people continue to do that." John chewed the inside of his cheek before speaking again. "I'm more familiar with that than I wish I was."

"Would this be because your wife poisoned herself to try and create a scandal for you?" Anna's step hitched and John pulled them to a halt.

"Would that be how you would judge me?"

"I have no judgments of you." Anna gave him a smile. "How could I when you know so many of my secrets."

"I don't know any of your secrets." John leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Not yet, anyway."

"Then, perhaps, I'll need to find some to share with you." Anna moved closer to John, her eyes flicking to the side so he noted the new gaggles of people staring at them. "If you're willing to risk being seen in public with someone bearing the scandalous reputation I do."

"Only as long as you're willing to accept the stink of scandal on us both." John's smile widened. "Because I happen to like the idea of us crashing our scandals against one another to crack them open."

"I fear we'll only birth a larger scandal."

"At least that one would be ours."

"Just so." Anna straightened, "Then, for the first scandal, I should tell you that I paint. As a hobby."

"Is that scandalous?"

The twitch of her lips made John's mouth run dry. "Depends on the subject I'm painting… And whether or not they're wearing clothes."