‘I think that you are the cleverest woman in the world.’ Vincent knelt by her and let his gaze go distant. ‘It is bending the sunlight.’

‘If we can perfect our technique or make purer glass, then we might be able to use it to direct glamour yet.’ Jane tapped her chin, wishing that she could see what he was seeing. ‘I wonder if indirect sunlight will suffice?’

‘Likely not.’ Vincent shaded his eyes and tilted his head up to the sky. He pointed. ‘There is a cloud coming, if you want to test your theory, but since the Sphère never vanished from our rooms, I would hazard a guess that the diffraction is too great.’

As he began to rise, Jane caught his hand. ‘Wait. May I step out of the Sphère and watch?’

‘Of course.’ He glanced past her to the studio. ‘They cannot see us, can they?’

‘I do not believe—’ Her words stopped as Vincent covered her mouth with his. Jane yielded to him, aware of the softness of his touch, the warmth of the sun, and the breeze which caressed her.

Vincent pulled back, cheeks ruddy and curving with his tender regard. ‘I quite like this thing you have invented, Muse.’

‘Mr. Vincent! You shock me.’ Try as she might, she could not keep her voice stern or hide her delight.

He compressed his lips into his private smile and nodded to the sky again. ‘The cloud is about to cover the sun.’

Jane rose and hurried away from him until she felt certain she must be out of the Sphère’s influence. When she faced the direction whence she had come, the bench and Vincent were quite invisible, leaving only a view of the courtyard beyond. She held her breath, hardly knowing whether she wanted them to appear when the cloud masked the sun, thus proving her point, or to stay concealed.

The day greyed, and as if he were watercolour bleeding onto a page, Vincent faded into view, first as an ill-defined shape, then his colour becoming more vibrant until she could see him with unrestricted clarity. She had only time to say, ‘I see you,’ before the cloud passed from the sun and he vanished once more.

Gravel rattled close by and then Vincent appeared before her, walking with the Sphère held carefully before him. Jane knew that they had, at that moment, vanished from the view of those around them, and she could hardly contain her exuberance.

‘Shall we show M. Chastain?’

Vincent bit the inside of his lip, tilting his head to the side to examine the Sphère. ‘Not yet, I think.’ Raising it, he peered into the interior. ‘I should like to have it written up, and run a few more trials first.’

‘But he might offer some suggestions.’