"I did."
"I have obeyed."
"So far."
The corner of his mouth moved. "A cautious endorsement."
Matilda looked at the table between them. The sealed score lay there, wrapped in brown paper and tied with plain string. Beside it rested her father's silver tuning fork. Robert's gaze followed hers, but did not linger.
"What would you like me to do?" he asked.
The question was simple; it still struck her with more force than it should have. A week earlier, he would have acted first. Now he waited.
Matilda sat opposite him. "I need you to carry something."
"Where?"
"To an independent solicitor in York—not one connected to you, Hester, or Beckham."
Robert nodded. "Very well."
"You are not to open it."
His eyes returned to the sealed packet. "I see."
"Do you?"
"You are asking me to transport evidence without examining it."
"Yes."
"And to place it in witnessed custody."
Matilda looked at him sharply. "You understand quickly."
"Occasionally. It is one of my more irritating qualities."
Mrs. Albright lowered her head over her embroidery; Matilda suspected she was hiding a smile.
"The packet contains the only complete score," Matilda said. "The final variation is inside."
Robert's expression changed, but he did not reach for it. "The one Beckham has never seen?"