Airs and Graces by Roz Southey

servant in search of Balfour.
    There was an uncomfortable silence while we waited. I said, ‘We looked at the site for the Rooms the other day. Demsey found an ancient ring.’
    Heron was interested at once. ‘There were Roman buildings in the town just about there. A skeleton was found in the next street – oh, eighty years ago, now. What is this ring like?’
    Trust Heron to know such things. I did my best to describe the ring – fortunately, just at that moment, Hugh came dashing in full of apologies. ‘Sorry I’m late! A cart overturned on the High Bridge and it was absolutely impossible to get past!’
    ‘I hear you found a ring,’ Heron said.
    Hugh had it with him; I left them exclaiming over it and went to see if I could find Balfour. The servant was in the passageway, looking embarrassed. ‘He’s – er – otherwise engaged—’
    A door opened behind him and a woman swaggered out, grinning; I’d no doubt whatsoever of her profession. The servant gave me an apologetic grin. Cautiously, I pushed the door wider. There was another parlour behind it, with a large fire and a table loaded with the remnants of a substantial breakfast. Across the other side of the room, Balfour, in shirt sleeves, was just buttoning up his breeches.
    His face lit up with pleasure when he saw me. ‘Patterson, my dear fellow! Do come in.’
    ‘I think not,’ I said, trying not to look disapproving. I wouldn’t deny a man some pleasure, but to keep Heron waiting while he took it was folly. As one of the Directors of the Assembly Rooms, Heron was Balfour’s employer, and Balfour would be wise to keep him sweet. ‘Mr Heron’s here.’
    Balfour grabbed a tankard from the table and gulped down beer. ‘A man needs a little breakfast, Patterson!’
    He was remarkably cheerful this morning. He grinned. ‘I like this snow. No getting out of town at all now, the ostlers tell me. Good job there are so many attractions, eh?’ He winked at me, then frowned. ‘You have a bruise on your forehead.’
    ‘Have I? I had an encounter with a thief last night.’
    ‘Really!’ He didn’t look particularly shocked. ‘Some shady rough?’
    ‘I don’t know – I didn’t get a good look at him. Will you please come?’
    He grumbled but reached for his coat.
    ‘The plans?’ I suggested. He looked round, puzzled, then spotted a roll of parchment on a sofa and swooped to grab it up.
    I needn’t have been so anxious. In the larger room, the wine had been neglected; Heron was engaged in examining Hugh’s ring. He angled the cameo so he could see the figure more clearly. ‘This is extremely valuable.’
    Hugh was taken aback. ‘I thought it was just a trinket.’
    Heron shook his head. ‘I’ll give you twenty guineas for it.’
    There was a moment’s respectful silence. Twenty guineas was extremely generous. Hugh cast me a surreptitious look. ‘Actually,’ he said, a trifle nervously, ‘I’d rather keep it. The dancing connection, you see.’ I fancied I heard a distinct note of regret; Hugh’s an excellent businessman and not in the practice of turning down large amounts of money.
    Heron gave the ring back at once. ‘If you change your mind at any time, let me know.’
    The plans were unrolled and the proposed building was revealed in section, plan and other views I couldn’t name, beautifully drawn, with annotations in impeccable copperplate. Balfour became enthusiastic and launched into explanations. I let the details wash over me, disturbed a little by Heron’s demeanour; he was surprisingly distracted. I saw him glance at the window once or twice; following his gaze, I saw the snow was beginning to ease.
    The servant came back in again and signalled to me. I went across and was treated to a voice lowered conspiratorially. ‘Lady to see you, sir.’ He winked.
    Balfour’s exploits had clearly given the servant erroneous ideas; I followed him to the yard with some trepidation. In the thinning snow, an ostler was bringing out a