Page 37 of The Unassuming Curator

The younger fellow complied, and with a few more grunts and abbreviated commands, the older one guided the piece of furniture into its preassigned spot. Stepping back, Tommy straightened one corner and then took a moment to gaze around the room.

The other man offered Henry a slight bow. “’Ow’s that, sir?”

“Excellent,” Henry said. “I’m most grateful.”

The older man smiled, exposing a few missing teeth. “There we are, then. Always ’appy t’ do business with t’ museum.”

“We appreciate your service. If you’d talk to the porter on the way out, he’ll see to it that you receive your payment.”

“Very good, sir.” He bowed again. “Come on, Tommy.”

The younger fellow turned from staring at the pelt of a black bear hanging on the wall above his head. He mumbled something under his breath and tugged on the brim of his hat, then he followed his associate out of the room.

“How does it look?” Fernsby walked in, taking the workmen’s place beside the display table.

“I think it will work well,” Henry said, inspecting the new display case as he spoke. “It looks sturdy enough to support the weight of the pottery, and the carpenter has done a nice job on the finishing work.”

A half-inch-wide and six-inch-tall strip of wood surrounded the perimeter of the rectangular table, creating a large, flat case. Three lead-framed sheets of glass were attached by hinges to the far side of the wooden frame. Henry raised the piece of glass closest to him. It lifted smoothly, allowing him easy access to the container beneath.

Fernsby whistled through his teeth. “Very nice. Did you design it?”

“Yes. I wanted something that gave the collection more protection than the open cases but gave us easier access than the cases covered by a solid sheet of glass.”

“Clever,” Fernsby said. “How long will it take you to have the display ready?”

“My question exactly.” At the sound of another voice, both gentlemen turned to face the door.

“Lord Claridge,” Henry said.

He and Fernsby inclined their heads in greeting, and the chair of the board acknowledged them with a nod.

“I would apologize for interrupting,” Claridge said, “but truth be told, I’m rather glad I came when I did.” He moved to stand beside the new display case and studied it with interest. “Most ingenious,” he said. “And did I hear you correctly? This design is of your own making?”

“I claim credit for the design, my lord, but the carpenter and glassblower did the real work.”

“Extraordinary,” Claridge said. “Really. Quite extraordinary. I look forward to seeing it filled.” He paused. “I believe you were about to tell Mr. Fernsby how long that will take.”

“Yes, my lord. I have the cataloging complete, so it should only take a few days to have the pieces ready to display.”

“Excellent. The timing couldn’t be better.”

“The timing?”

“Yes,” Claridge said. “I’ve heard from Lady Grenville’s solicitor again. Her donation is scheduled to arrive at the museum on Monday, and once again, she is insisting that you be the person to attend to the delivery. The board wishes you to oversee every part of the unloading and cataloging; I have given Lady Grenville’s solicitor my word that you will.”

“Of course,” Henry said, even as misgiving tightened his stomach into a knot. The butterfly collection was well within the realm of his expertise; the literature was not.

“Glad to hear it.” Claridge gave a satisfied nod. “I shall return early next week so that I might report on the progress of the Egyptian pottery display and the status of Lady Grenville’s donation at our next board meeting.”

Early next week. The director was giving him only a day or two to assess the vast donation of manuscripts he knew nothing about.

“Might I suggest that Mr. Townsend would be far better suited to—”

Lord Claridge raised his hand to stop Henry before he could continue. “We all know that Townsend is an expert in his field, but to be a truly effective representative of the British Museum, one must also have the social skills and business acumen to match.” He offered Henry an enigmatic look. “Consider this a test of the breadth of your abilities, Buckland. A rather important one at that.”

Henry had never enjoyed taking tests at university. That sentiment had yet to change. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what you are looking for, my lord.”

“It’s hardly complicated, Buckland. Just prove to the board that you can do what needs to be done with a multifaceted donation.”