The Imposter's Inheritance (Glass and Steele Book 9)

by C. J. Archer

  "Hope's decision—"

  "This isn't about Hope," Matt said, cutting me off. "It's about James Teller and Donald Grellow."

  "Who?" Lord Coyle asked mildly.

  "One is a brick magician, the other a carpenter magician, as you well know. They assaulted Mr. Longmire, on your orders."

  Lord Coyle rubbed the head of his walking stick with a hand marked by age spots. To think that a young, beautiful woman like Hope was considering marrying this old, corpulent schemer beggared belief. But as her mother pointed out, I wouldn't understand. I had not been brought up knowing that I would be sold into matrimony to the bidder with the best pedigree.

  "And you want to know why I ordered the assault?" Lord Coyle asked.

  "We know why," Matt went on. "My uncle asked you to."

  Lord Coyle acknowledged the point with a single nod.

  "You paid Teller and Grellow to beat up Longmire and you signed the instructions with my uncle's name. Why?"

  Lord Coyle showed no sign of surprise that we knew that much. Indeed, he must have suspected we'd eventually find out, considering our contacts within the police force. "Insurance."

  "Pardon?" I asked.

  "Insurance, Mrs. Glass. If the police arrested the thugs—which I assume they have or you wouldn't be here—they would learn of the payment and the letter signed with Rycroft's name. Very few of our city's detectives would look beyond the signature. They would take it at face value. The upshot is, I didn't want them digging further and linking my name to it. Rycroft asked me to orchestrate it. He should get the blame, not me."

  "But you must have known that the detective in charge would notify the commissioner when he saw a peer's name on the letter, and that the commissioner would notify me before sweeping it under the carpet."

  "That's why I knew it would come to nothing."

  "But the commissioner would have done the same thing for you, my lord," I pointed out. "You're ranked higher than Lord Rycroft, after all."

  "I am not related to one of the commissioner's favorite private inquiry agents, or whatever you want to call yourselves these days." He pointed his walking stick at Matt. "I also didn't want my good name tarnished by this, even if it is just in the commissioner's eyes and that of a few policemen."

  While his words held a ring of truth, I didn't quite believe them. It seemed unnecessary to sign a name at all.

  "No harm done," Lord Coyle said. "Nothing will come of it. The two magicians will go to trial without the letter being mentioned at all."

  "I don't know," Matt said.

  "It wasn't a question, Glass. I can assure you, the letter and the orders contained within will not be presented."

  It was chilling that he could be so assured, but he spoke with utmost confidence. This man was powerful indeed if he could suppress that detail in court.

  Matt didn't seem nearly as surprised as me. "No doubt it will come out that they were angry about the letters Longmire sent. I'm sure there are witnesses who will testify as to how angry."

  "And not a single one will have to be paid to be there," Lord Coyle said. "They will simply speak the truth. I believe Teller and Grellow became quite loud about their hatred of the author of those letters in their local pub, and even louder once they learned his name from an anonymous source. They mentioned in great detail how they would 'show him,' as they put it."

  Matt and I stood to go, but Lord Coyle pointed his walking stick at the sofa. "Sit, sit. Tell me how your investigation is going. Found the coronet yet?"

  "Yes," Matt admitted. He did not sit, and I took my cue from him and remained standing too. "I'm on my way to notify the police now."

  "Who was it?"

  "None of your business."

  Coyle chuckled. "Fine, fine. Have it your way. I assume the coronet is back in Cox's hands?"

  "Almost."

  "I look forward to seeing it. I hear the gold is very beautiful."

  "It is," I said.

  "You ought to give it directly to Longmire. Cox tells me he's giving up and won't contest the claim."

  "His lawyer advised him he couldn't win," Matt said.

  "He decided not to try anyway, for the sake of his children," I added. "A lengthy public trial will hurt his family more. Anyway, he seems to have made his peace with his change in circumstances, and I know his wife doesn't care about losing the title of Lady Cox. She loves her husband and just wants him to be happy."

  "What a pretty domestic picture you paint of them, Mrs. Glass." He rocked himself to his feet, using his walking stick to push up. "Speaking of domestic bliss, will I be able to join the ranks of happily wedded couples?"

  "That is Hope's decision to make," I said defiantly. "We will not influence her."

  "You have less than twenty-four hours."

  "We won't influence her," I said again, louder.

  He simply smiled.

  Matt took my arm and steered me out of the drawing room.

  "I don't know why Hope hasn't refused him yet," I said as we drove home. "She can't possibly be seriously considering marrying him."

  Matt put his arm around my shoulders and nuzzled my hair near my ear. "Not everyone thinks like you, India. People get married for all sorts of reasons other than love. Hope is merely following in the footsteps of centuries of ancestors who married for position or wealth."

  I sighed into him, relaxing for the first time since entering Coyle's house. "Thank goodness you broke with tradition."

  "My father did it first. Blame him for setting a precedent."

  I smiled against his mouth. "He started a new tradition. One that I hope will continue for generations of Glasses."

  Matt was gone a long time. Too long for a visit to the police station to simply hand over the coronet to Detective Inspector Walker. He must have called on Hope. It was most infuriating. He knew my thoughts on the matter.

  I was very aware, however, that he had never agreed with me.

  "How is Hope?" I asked when he strolled into the sitting room late in the afternoon.

  "I didn't visit Hope," he said, matching my casual tone. "I went to see Cox after speaking to Walker."

  I lowered my book to my lap. "Oh. Sorry."

  He bent down and gave me a delicate kiss.

  Willie made a sound of disgust in her throat. "Do you have to do that in here?"

  "Ain't you got something better to do than complain all the time?" Duke said to her.

  Willie shot to her feet. "You're right. I'm going out. Don't wait up."

  "But it's almost dinner time," Cyclops said with a frown. "Don't you want to eat first?"

  "I'll eat later. Tell Mrs. Potter to leave something out for me."

  "Don't go to the docks," Matt said. "You can't risk the constables catching you again."

  "I'm going to find me a poker game," she said.

  "You ain't got no money," Duke reminded her.

  She glared at him. "Wish I'd never told you that."

  "Why not visit Brockwell instead," I said. "He'll be at a loose end now that his investigation into Longmire's assault has concluded."

  She didn't dismiss the idea outright but pursed her lips, considering.

  I took that as a good sign. "This morning when he visited, he couldn't stop looking at you as you walked away," I said. "He was admiring your, er, buckskins."

  Her gaze snapped to mine.

  "And he spoke about you after you left," I added.

  She walked off, only to stop at the door. "What'd he say?"

  "He said he admires you."

  She looked pleased for a fleeting moment before regaining her stoic composure.

  "And he thinks you're uniqueness is an integral part of what makes you beautiful," I went on.

  Her lips flattened. "You took it too far, India. He don't care for beauty." She walked out of the room.

  "I meant beautiful in character!" I called after her. "Not that he doesn't think you also have a beautiful face, but it's just that your character is more important
to him!"

  She didn't respond.

  Cyclops, seated nearest the door, peered through it. "She's gone."

  I sighed and slumped into the sofa. Aunt Letitia patted my knee. "Never mind, India. You tried and that's the main thing. If Willemina and the inspector are meant to be together, fate will see to it."

  "Perhaps," I said. "But sometimes fate needs a helping hand."

  "Especially in Willie's case," Duke said. "She's too stubborn to take notice if fate bit her on the nose, pointed at Brockwell, and pushed her in his direction."

  Matt was out of sorts the following morning. He ate very little at breakfast and hardly spoke a word, even when Willie announced with a yawn that she would never entertain another lover ever again. I was too worried about Matt to ask her why, and Duke and Cyclops gave her no more acknowledgement than a nod. She pouted and returned to staring at the fireplace.

  "I'm going for a walk," I said. "Matt, will you accompany me?"

  He looked up from the newspaper he was reading. "Hmm?"

  "Would you like to accompany me on a walk?"

  "Yes, of course."

  We did not get the opportunity to leave the house, however. Lord Coyle arrived with Hope on his arm.

  "We are engaged," she said simply upon taking a seat in the drawing room. She smiled. It didn't convince me of her happiness.

  "Congratulations," Matt said, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. "When did this happen?"

  "Last night," Lord Coyle said. "She graced me with her presence at dinner and gave me the good news." He lifted her gloved hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. "She's everything I could wish for in a bride."

  Hope's smile turned serene. "Thank you, my lord." To us, she said, "I'm honored that he was still willing to marry me after my sister's husband's situation came to light. It's a testament to the depth of his feelings for me. No woman could ask for more in a marriage."

  "As the heir to the Rycroft baronetcy, I wanted to assure you of my good intentions toward your cousin, Glass. I will take care of her. She'll want for nothing and my name will shield her from any repercussions to come of Cox's predicament."

  "I'm glad to hear it," Matt said blandly. "Are your parents happy with the union, Hope?"

  "Immeasurably," she said. "My mother is urging us to wed as soon as possible, but I insist on waiting a month."

  "So soon?" I asked.

  "I don’t want a winter wedding. We plan to marry here in London rather than the country."

  I saw no chink in her armor. No slip of her smile or recoiling from her fiancé's touch. She seemed content.

  "Hope, would you mind giving me your opinion of our library furniture?" I asked. "It's rather old and I'm considering changing it."

  Matt looked as though he'd protest but swallowed it when he realized my true motive. He fell into conversation with Coyle as we exited.

  "This isn't about furniture, is it?" Hope asked as we entered the library.

  I rounded on her. "Did Matt visit you yesterday?"

  "No."

  "Did he talk you into marrying Lord Coyle?"

  She laughed a sweet, musical laugh. "No. It was my own decision. Although…"

  Did I want to hear this? Did I want to know that Matt had somehow conveyed the importance of her accepting Coyle's proposal?

  "Go on," I prompted.

  "I was influenced by recent events," she went on. "My parents advised that Lord Coyle can protect me from Patience's scandal and any future scandal Charity may cause. They told me how he made the recent attacks on Mr. Longmire appear to be my father's fault."

  She watched me carefully, perhaps looking for a sign as to the truth of that suggestion. I hoped my face gave nothing away.

  "I've always known he was powerful, but now I understand what power truly means," she said. "He has contacts in the palace and Whitehall. People respect him. They listen to him and do as he bids. As his wife, I will share that."

  "You want his power?" I asked.

  "Of course. What woman doesn't?"

  I stared at her, long and hard, trying to understand. She merely smiled back, as if she knew what I was thinking and knew it was impossible for me to understand her. We were so different.

  "As your cousin's wife, I feel obligated to tell you what I know," I said. "Lord Coyle might be powerful, but he wields that power to get what he wants. It was he who informed Mr. Longmire that he had a strong claim to the Cox title."

  "Thank you for confirming it. I was told as much, but I wasn't sure."

  "Told by whom?"

  "Aunt Letitia."

  My mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. I couldn't find the words to voice my opinion. I wasn't even sure of my opinion. Should I be pleased or concerned? Did Aunt Letitia know that Hope's acceptance would eradicate the favor I owed Lord Coyle? I couldn't quite recall if she knew about it or not.

  Or had she acted purely out of self-interest for the Glass name? It wouldn't surprise me if she had. She was a terrible snob.

  Hope laughed again. "You are sweet to worry about me, India, but I assure you, marriage to Lord Coyle will suit me well."

  "Wait," I said as she walked off. "Are you not concerned that Coyle told Longmire about his claim to the baronetcy?"

  "Not at all. I'm flattered. It just goes to show how much he wanted me as his wife."

  I frowned. I felt stupid for missing the point that she seemed to think was obvious.

  She gave a little roll of her eyes, as if she couldn't quite believe my stupidity either. "Can you not see, India? He wanted to bring my family down and make my parents desperate to accept him into the family. And believe me, they were fiercely in Coyle's favor ever since Cox informed us. By causing this scandal, Coyle knew it would be almost impossible for me to refuse him. My parents said they would never force me to marry him, but they didn't mean it. While I saw their point, it wasn't until I learned how Coyle set the ball in motion that I realized the power he wields. Not only did he have knowledge of Cox's illegitimacy, but he saved that information for a time when he needed it. Powerful, wealthy and clever. It's an intoxicating combination in a man."

  She smiled and headed out of the library, her steps light, her hips swaying. I stood a moment, watching her retreat, wondering if she was as mad as Charity or cleverer than everyone. One thing was certain, however; she was greedy. Greedy for power. She'd found a way to get that power through Coyle.

  Lord Coyle rose as we entered the drawing room. They said their goodbyes and asked us to inform Aunt Letitia of their good news. I sat again after they left and asked Peter to fetch tea.

  "Are you sure you don't want smelling salts?" Matt asked, sitting beside me on the sofa. "Or strong liquor? You look as though you're going to faint."

  I blinked slowly at him. "I just had the strangest conversation with Hope in the library."

  "As did I, with Coyle. But you first."

  I told him about Hope's greed for power and the reason behind her decision to accept Coyle. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Matt. You told me you didn't try to convince her, and I didn't quite believe you. A letter from Aunt Letitia explaining all about Coyle being behind Longmire's claim is what finally convinced her."

  "Aunt Letitia!" He shook his head, disbelieving.

  "Tell me about your conversation with Coyle."

  "First of all, I wanted his assurance that you are now off the hook. He gave it. You no longer owe him a favor."

  "Even though we didn't influence Hope?"

  He chewed his lip.

  "Go on," I said darkly.

  "I told him I pointed out to Hope how he can help her achieve whatever she wants," he said.

  "What if she tells him you said nothing of the sort to her?"

  "He thinks I told Aunt Letitia what to write in a letter to Hope. I suspected she'd write to her and you just confirmed it. I'll have a word with Aunt Letitia later to make sure she knows what to say if Coyle interrogates her. But I doubt he will." He grinned. "I feel li
ke a weight has been lifted from my shoulders."

  "I suppose, but I am worried about Hope. I'm afraid I can't feel as glad as you do."

  He shrugged. "Is it so bad that I'm glad my wife no longer owes Coyle a favor? That's not all we talked about, anyway. He told me he bought the coronet off Longmire. In advance, of course. Longmire hasn't got it in his possession yet."

  "So Coyle will add a magical gold object to his collection. He'll be the envy of the others."

  "They'll offer him an enormous sum to buy it from him, but I doubt he'll sell."

  He certainly wouldn't. Not after going through so much to get it. That coronet not only symbolized the power he had over the lives of several people, but also of Hope's acceptance of his marriage proposal. He wouldn't sell it for even more magical gold.

  Mr. Longmire was in the middle of packing his own bag when we arrived at his lodgings in the early afternoon. His valet was nowhere in sight.

  "He left yesterday," Mr. Longmire said. "Good riddance. He was a mere servant yet he looked down on me!" He shoved a creased shirt into the bag. "All he did was complain and tell me I did everything wrong. A gentleman should do this or that in a particular way, according to him. Bloody snob."

  "You're leaving London," Matt said.

  "I hate this city, and I'm not needed here. My lawyer has his instructions. I'm going home to pack my things and move into the big house." He looked up from his bag and smirked, only to wince when it hurt his cut lip. "I suppose you heard? Cox gave in."

  "We heard," Matt said. "We also heard you sold the family coronet to Lord Coyle. Is that wise, considering it's the symbol of your family's power?"

  "Symbol of the devil's work, you mean. I don't want that thing anywhere near me. Coyle's welcome to it."

  "I hope you charged him a fortune for it," Matt said idly.

  Mr. Longmire straightened. "How much should I have asked?"

  "Double of what he offered."

  "Triple," I said. "It's incredibly rare."

  Mr. Longmire's eyes gleamed. Well, one did. I couldn't see the other through the swelling.

  "All in all it's been a profitable visit." He managed to shut the carpet bag, but the seams stretched almost to breaking point.