"Miss Bray," he replied by way of greeting. "Where is your papa today?"
"He'll be back in a few minutes. Run to the butcher, he did." She twisted her face in a most unflattering way.
"Has Mr. Moore been causing trouble again?" Edward guessed.
"Yes and Papa's gwine make sure he gets what's coming to him."
"Right, well, Miss Bray, I'd like you to meet my wife, Lady Watson." He turned toward Regina then gestured to Miss Bray. "Regina, this is Loretta Bray. Her father owns the shop."
"Hello, milady," Miss Bray said, demonstrating a sloppy curtsy. "It's very nice to meet you."
"It's nice making your acquaintance, too," Regina murmured; her curtsy flawless in comparison.
Edward's chest swelled with pride. Regina, being a woman of nobility now, had no call to curtsy to Miss Bray. And, were she any other lady Edward was acquainted with, namely his mother or Lady Sinclair, she would have become waspish toward Miss Bray for her mistake. But not Regina. He put a possessive hand on the small of her back then just as quickly pulled it away when she flinched. "We'll just look around, then."
"Aye. There are new automatons in the back," she called as they walked away. "Oh, and we rearranged some of the sculptures."
Edward lifted his free hand to indicate he'd heard. "Have you ever been to a curiosity shop?"
"N-no."
He gestured to the left hall. "Good. I'll get to witness your first experience at seeing-."
"What on earth is that?" she exclaimed, terror filling her voice. She recoiled and jumped backward, her back slamming against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her to steady her. He'd expected some sort of reaction, but this wasn't it. "It's a wax sculpture."
"A what?" Her body was still tense as she stared at the wax image of a man wearing nothing but a brown piece of "leather" that hung loose in front of his bauble and whirligigs, held on only by a thin piece of "rope" that wrapped around his waist. His right arm was lifted into the air with his hand closed around a long spear with a sharp, bloodied tip on the end. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his teeth were bared as if he were running into war.
Edward loosened his hold enough to still keep her up but not make her uneasy by his touch. "It's like a statue. But instead of being made of marble or stone, it's made from wax."
"My compliments to the sculptor. He did a fine job of making it very lifelike."
"He did, didn't he?"
"Yes," she said with a swallow, her eyes trained on the man's chest. Her body relaxed significantly, but he refused to let her go so soon. It had been since their wedding night that he'd been able to touch her without guilt niggling in the back of his mind, and for some reason, he didn't want the moment to end.
"Are there more statues like this one?"
"No." He released her. "Last time I was here, this was the only one like this, and I thought it was at the end."
"That must be why Miss Bray was giggling," Regina said.
"Of course," he offered her is arm. "Would you like to see the others?" When she bit her lip and glanced over his shoulder, he added, "I promise that none are as graphic as this."
"And if they are?"
"Then I'll give you a boon and do whatever it is you wish to do tomorrow," he promised, saying a silent prayer that there would be another, more vulgar image than this one. That way she'd have no choice but to let him into her world that she'd held secret from him.
"A boon," she agreed. "But I get to claim it whenever and however I wish."
He inwardly sighed. "All right, a boon of your choosing."
"Very well, show me more men with wax in their ears, if you please."
"Not just in," he corrected. "If you want to see that, look no further than yours truly."
Her face turned a pale pink. "I meant that as a jest, because-"
He placed a finger to her lips. "I know what you meant; and I found the humor in it." He dropped his hand to his side. "Shall we?"
Daniel Bray, the owner of the museum, had somehow acquired just under one hundred wax sculptures, and Edward spent as much time as he could showing each of them to Regina before taking her into his favorite room.
"I must warn you," he said, his face heating a bit. "Other than your bedchamber, this has to be my favorite room in London." He couldn't help the grin that divided his face when Regina's cheeks flushed crimson.
"Edward," she gasped.
"Sorry, m'dear, I didn't mean to scandalize you-" he shrugged- "but it's the truth."
"That may be, but you needn't announce it."
He twisted his lips and made his eyes bulge; making a face that had always made his younger brothers laugh, then made a big show of looking in both directions over his shoulders then behind her. "I don't see anyone who heard the announcement other than the one person I wanted to hear it."
She lowered her lashes and her hands clasped together in front of her waist. "I think I understand now."
Ignoring the way she'd suddenly clammed up again, he gestured to the room. "Shall I show you what a grown man would like to see in a nursery were he sent away from dinner and told to spend the rest of the evening there?"
"Dare I hope everything in this room is clothed?"
Edward gasped and smacked a hand on either side of his face. "Regina Elinor Banks! I do believe I finally understand the meaning of the verb scandalized."
She waved her hand through the air-almost like she meant to swat at his shoulder but stopped herself. "Do be serious. That is nowhere near as scandalous as what you said a moment ago. Besides-" she pointed a slender, pink-tipped finger at him and wagged it- "considering the sculptures you just exposed me to, my statement wasn't too far-fetched."
Edward took hold of her extended hand and wrapped his larger one around it. "I promise there is nothing offensive in this room." Holding her hand, he led her into the room. "See, it's like a giant toy room. This is the part of the museum where you're allowed to touch whatever you wish." He picked up a wooden carving that had a ball trapped inside of a rectangular box which was made up of only twelve wooden strips along the corners and handed it to her.
Regina turned it over in her hand, frowning. "How did they get the ball inside? It's too big to fall out the side, yet there are no hinges or breaks in the wood where it pulls apart."
"It was originally all one piece of wood. The man who made this carved the rough outline of the box first and then carved the ball within, making sure not to take too much off of either the ball or the sides so the ball wouldn't fall out." He took it from her and set it back on the shelf, then picked up a heavy wooden plank that had six rows of small colored dots along the top, followed by a strip of green, then a large swath of brown. Along the left were two horses: one grey and one white. Holding firmly onto the side closest to him, he moved it closer to Regina.
"How intricate," she marveled, tracing the details of the horses with the tip of her finger. She frowned. "Are these horses attached to the wood with wire?"
Instead of telling her, he hooked his fingers into the wire circles on the underside of the wood, and pulled.
"How extraordinary," she exclaimed as the horses "raced" across the plank.
The smile on her face knocked the wind right out of Edward's lungs. Of course he'd seen her smile before, but never beam. Not the way she was doing now. His chest constricted. Leave it to John and his eerie perceptiveness to see what Edward couldn't.
"Do they always move like that?"
"No." Edward used his left hand and moved them back to the start. "It's meant to be a horse race. That's what all these dots are-they're the spectators." He flipped the box over. "See, there are two different wires, one for each horse. Depending on which horse you want to win, you pull that string a little faster." He turned the automaton back over and tugged the wires again, this time, pulling the top one just a little faster than the bottom.
"Do all of these do the same thing?"
Edward put the racing horses down. "In a matter of speaking, yes. But they're all different, as well." He picked one up. "These are two fishermen having a competition." He quirked a brow. "Care to place a wager on which one reels in his catch first?"