Night Drop - afternoon

2 days in Larvik and Nora feels like she has gotten a feel for the town's rhythm.  Mabel's house is nestled in  not far from the Church, built in the 1670 for the Count's Dutch bride where the original Customs Office and the Archer Family home.

The building is painted a golden yellow, at odds with the mostly white houses that dotted the landscape and she plans to move into one of the guest houses on site at the end of the week, after the painters finish. 

The stealth swimmer was still around the hotel and she'd occasionally see him in town when she took her afternoon constitutional, walking over to the Hungry Heart or through the town centre. They eye each other with bemused interest.  

In addition to inventorying the house's contents and work with the inventory Mabel's Philadelphia town house to see what might work better in Larvik, Philadelphia or what should go to auction in London, Nora is researching the family and town. 'I was so young when we left, Nora. Just, you know...find what you can.' It's was Nora does, finding things out. She's good at examine the lives and habits of others, quietly watching. She has spent the last two days at the house in the mornings then at the local museums, piecing together a sense of the early history. 

Originally, Larvik was a market town. The earliest documentation of sawmill is 1539 and town's access to the Farris River and port led to it being declared a port under Tønsberg.  A small sawmill was founded at Farriselven in the late 1530s, capitalising the port and river. 

Larvik county was established for Ulrik Fredrik Gyldenløve, Norwegian viceroy and a natural/illegetimate son of the Danish king in 1671. 'Natural' son as opposed to heir.  Illegitimate because?  How did the myth of monogamy become the mainstream, Nora wonders, shaking her head.  It isn't an issue for her, since she is a widow, but even if it weren't, it isn't like fidelity can be so easily tied to sex. 

By 1677, a church was being built for his third wife, a young Dutch royal.  The city became even more strategic when the Norwegian naval base Fredriksvern opened in 1750, though it would be another 64 years before Norway claimed independence from Denmark. 

Modern Larvik is Scandinavian chic: raw materials, a focus on light and nature, but with a parochialism that Nora finds a bit stifling, especially at the hotel, which is still abuzz with its conference of what turn out to be Naval architects and an influx of couples and mini-reunions.  She's back at the hotel after an early morning start for late afternoon swim when she walks into the stranger from the lagoon. 

He's lithe but solid. Her forehead just brushes his chin. 'Oh! I...' her voice trailing off when she realises who is in front of her. His hand is on her upper arm, sending the hair on the back of her neck standing. She steps back a half step to break the connection, drops her book. 

'I do apologise. ' He leans down to pick up her book. "_The Ice Queen_?" An autobiographical read?'

Something in his tone causes Nora's eyes flash. 'Hardly.'  He's teasing her and it is flustering.  Her arm tingles from his grasp. This is not how she thought encountering him again would go. Of course, she's never countered him in close proximity. Or has she? She flushes.

He studies her curiously for a moment, starts to hand her the book back. 

'Thank you,' she says quickly. 'I...Yes, thank you.' She moves to sidle past him as a group of architects leave a meeting room. She notes his eyes narrow, follows his gaze.  A man resembling Ichabod Crane with a shock of red hair is talking excitedly, and he moves to trail the group. 

'Excuse me, my book?' His eyes swing back to her. She takes the book back so quickly, cleanly  and moves down the hall. She can feel him watching her. She does not turn around. 

Back in her room, she splashes water on her face.  'Danger. Red alert, kiddo. There is no way that man isn't trouble,' she says sternly to her reflection. Yeah, but c'mon. Maybe we deserve just a little trouble?