Page 19 of Familiar Things New

“Even better,” she said. “The poor man sees more than enough cancellations.”

Edwin frowned. He still wasn’t very happy about being there, but learning that Andrew was in such dire need of business was making it slightly more bearable.

He and Agnes started up the stairs. Almost every one of them creaked, some worse than others. It reminded Edwin of the house he’d grown up in, where he and William had made a game of trying to reach the second floor without making noise. Once Edwin and Agnes finished climbing the stairs, they paused to look back and forth between the two doors on opposite sides of the hall. One had no sign (so, possibly it was someone’s rented room), while the other had a little placard for Thompson’s Photography Studio.

Edwin knocked on that one. Only a few seconds later, Andrew answered.

“Good morning!” Andrew said brightly. He took a few steps backward, stumbling a hair on the final one. “Come in!”

“Thank you,” Agnes replied, entering straightaway. “Good morning to you as well.”

Edwin was still hovering in the entryway when Agnes began removing her overcoat. After a few more seconds of hesitation, he followed her into the room. He moved to unfasten the buttons of his coat as well, but then he thought better of it and shoved his hands into his pockets instead. After all, he wasn’t the one being photographed. He might as well leave his winterwear on.

Andrew took Agnes’s coat and hung it up for her on a hook.

“So, uhm, I have everything ready. Everything I could prepare ahead of time. I’ll have to set the collodion plates, of course, but that’s standard. It won’t take long.”

Next, Andrew took Agnes’s hat from her. He hung it up with her coat, while Edwin glanced around the room. It looked like a proper studio. Not like a bedroom or what he’d have thought a room in a boarding house might look like. One entire wall was taken up by tall windows, and the sloped ceiling had several more windows, too. It was a little like the conservatory in that respect—filled with sunlight. On the far side of the room, there was a sofa and a small bookcase, along with a high-backed wooden chair. Behind the seating hung what looked like a long piece of painted fabric featuring a simple scene with a false window, beyond which there was a pretty meadow.

“You can have a seat over there,” Andrew said to Agnes as he gestured at the seating area closest to the windows. “I think the chair might be the best choice for the photographs. Or some people prefer to stand. I can change the background if you’d like as well. I have two more choices for it. One is a fireplace with a roaring fire and the other is like a sunset with some plants.”

Agnes walked over to the seating area and shrugged.

“Whatever you think is best,” she said.

“Hm, well, I think this background might strike the right mood. And a, uh, a close-up photograph might be nice as well. One that focuses in on your face. Those are becoming more popular nowadays. Especially for, uhm, well, to give to a lover.”

Agnes’s eyes flew wide. Edwin inhaled a sharp breath and nearly choked on his spittle.

“Oh no, that wasn’t the right word, was it?” Andrew spluttered. “I only meant . . . Oh, I’m not sure what I meant. Goodness, I’m sorry.”

Stunned, uncomfortable silence filled the room. Only the faint sound of street commotion—horses and carriages and people passing by—could be heard through the closed windows. Edwin’s cheeks warmed from secondhand embarrassment. Agnes had never and would never admit that there was something between her and William. Not unless they were married. And, well, even then, Edwin honestly couldn’t be sure sometimes. He wondered how offended Agnes might be right then. Or even whether she might want to leave.

But then, Agnes burst out laughing.

“William warned me you were one of the most inelegant men he’d ever met, but I thought he meant you tripped over physical objects, rather than your own words,” she said.

“It’s both,” Andrew said, sighing. “Always.”

She laughed some more. “Well, then, I shall pretend I never heard your comment, as long as you won’t mind pretending you never said it.”

Andrew smiled. “Yes. Please.”

“Besides, William and I are only friends. Enemies, even, on the occasions when I find him particularly trying,” she said, and Edwin breathed a sigh of relief. “So, tell me, Andrew, these close-up portraits, are they suitable for friends to exchange as well?”

“Yes,” Andrew answered. “Undoubtedly.”

“Well, then, we can try one. Perhaps, though, we can try a standing one, too, from a distance, since this is one of my favorite outfits.”

“Perfect,” Andrew said, sounding cheery once again.

Over the next few minutes, Andrew finished setting up the space, moving his tripod and camera and checking to ensure that Agnes would be centered correctly. Meanwhile, Edwin stayed as far away as possible, standing with his back practically pressed to the door. He kept his eyes on Andrew the entire time, watching him flit from here to there, his fast movements unpracticed and nervous-seeming.

Edwin couldn’t fathom how he might take the photographs without either knocking over his camera or making some other kind of egregious error. Perhaps this was why Andrew’s business was struggling.

Damn, was the man ever handsome, though.

“Oh, one more thing.” Andrew headed over to a curtained area in the corner of the room. He returned a moment later holding a folded garment of some sort, though Edwin couldn’t tell exactly what it was. “I keep some hats and veils for customers to use sometimes. I only offer them once in a while. Usually only when someone says that they feel as though they may have underdressed.” He winced. “Not that you are underdressed, of course.” Andrew shut his eyes and shook his head. Edwin tried not to cringe. “Sorry.”