The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  “I’ve been studying charms,” Gary said. His face lit up as he started to talk. “There are layers upon layers of charms most people don’t know exist.”

  I listened, occasionally asking questions as he talked. I was pretty good at charms, both the ones I’d been taught and the ones I’d picked up on my own, but Gary was head and shoulders above me. He knew how to alter charms to respond to different people, how to set up wards that were far more discriminating than even standard house wards and ... I made a mental list of questions to ask him, of spells he could teach me. I didn’t have to tell him what I wanted them for, I told myself. He could give me lessons without ever knowing what I intended to do with the knowledge.

  “There are some trunks that belonged to my father I haven’t been able to open,” I told him, when he’d finished talking. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t interested. “Would you take a look at them?”

  “I can,” Gary said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

  I stood. Auntie Dorcas would have a minor heart attack, if she knew I’d taken Gary to the uppermost floor. I was almost tempted to tell her. It wasn’t as if she could badmouth me to the matriarch. I put the thought firmly to one side as I stood and led Gary up the stairs, silently grateful there were so few people living in the hall. Auntie Dorcas hadn’t even hinted she’d like to move back home. I wondered if she thought I was going to crash and burn or ... if she just hated the idea of making her case to a woman she probably remembered as a little girl. It would have to sting.

  “And all of this is yours?” Gary looked around, his eyes wide with wonder. “Yours and yours alone?”

  “It belongs to the family,” I said. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that House Lamplighter was more than a little shabby. We’d done a little cleaning and renovation on the uppermost floor, but it had been a low priority. No one was meant to see it, not yet. “It’s mine as long as I serve as matriarch, but it isn’t mine personally.”

  “The perks of the job,” Gary said.

  “In a way ...” I felt a twinge of guilt as I led him into one of the smaller offices. We weren’t married yet. We might never be married. “The job comes with a price.”

  I scowled to myself. Gary and his father knew we were short of money. We wouldn’t have humbled ourselves in front of them if we didn’t need them. I wondered just how much they knew - or cared - about our situation. They wouldn’t have loaned us the money if they hadn’t known we were desperate, if they hadn’t thought there was a reasonable chance we wouldn’t be able to repay. I felt another twinge of guilt. Gary was nice. He didn’t deserve to find himself in a loveless match.

  “This was your father’s office?” Gary’s voice was incredulous. “Or his bedroom?”

  “No.” I laughed. “His bedroom is on the fifth floor.”

  I understood, all too well. The office was empty, save for a handful of trunks and charmed boxes. The walls were grey, stained with dust. I wasn’t sure why my father had kept his schoolboy trunk, let alone turned it into a repository for ... for something. He’d done a good job, I admitted sourly. I knew how to break into someone’s trunk - I’d done it enough at school - but father’s trunk was beyond me.

  “Where do you want me to start?” Gary looked around the room. “Do you have anything in mind?”

  “That one,” I said. My father’s old leather trunk should have gone to me. He’d purchased a new one for me when I’d been sent away. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time - I’d been too young to understand the tradition - but it bothered me now. Why had he paid so much money when he could have given me one of his? “And be careful.”

  Gary knelt beside the trunk. “I’ve seen a couple like this,” he said, more to himself than to me. “They went out of fashion ten years or so ago. The leather simply didn’t hold charms for very long.”

  I watched, fascinated, as he went to work. Some of the charms he used to probe the trunk were familiar; others were new. His magic drifted over the trunk without ever quite touching it, parsing out the defences without triggering them. I felt growing admiration as he worked out the spells, figuring out how to break them. Gary knew what he was doing. I hadn’t met anyone so focused in years. It was impressive.

  He’s got strong magic, I thought. It wasn’t uncommon to have powerful magicians marry into the aristocracy. I was the matriarch, admittedly, but there was a shortage of other candidates. Perhaps being married to him won’t be so bad.

  Gary looked up. “There’s two layers of spells on the trunk,” he said. “I think your father must have been a skilled charmsmith, as he’s actually woven them into the leather and metal and made them stick. I think” - he frowned - “I think he worked blood into the material as a base. I can’t think of anything else that would remain so powerful for so long.”

  I winced. “Did he use dark magic?”

  “That’s debatable,” Gary said. “If it was his own blood ... no, technically.”

  “I see,” I said. I’d been given the same warnings as everyone else. Anything that called for blood was to be regarded with extreme suspicion. The spells weren’t automatically dark - blood-based potions often made the difference between life and death - but they could be very dangerous. “Can you open it?”

  “Perhaps.” Gary met my eyes. “I’d need to use some of your blood.”

  “And it might not work anyway,” I mused. If my father had keyed the trunk specifically to himself, my blood might trigger an explosion. His parents were long dead and he’d never had any siblings. Uncle Stefano was the closest except for me, and he was a second cousin. “I think” - I swallowed, hard - “show me what to do.”

  Gary looked nervous, which didn’t make me feel any better as he started to talk me through the procedure. I’d spent enough time around men and boys to know they loved explaining things, particularly to women they were trying to impress. Gary wasn’t like that - I thought - but he’d still like to show off, just a little. If he was reluctant to show me how to perform the spells ... they had to be dangerous, more dangerous than he’d claimed. I knew enough about blood magic to know how easily it could go wrong.

  And all of the nonsense people say about it doesn’t help, I thought, as I tried to focus on the charms. Gary was a good teacher, but there were gaps in my knowledge. There’s too much we don’t understand about how it works.

  I cut my finger, just slightly, and pressed the blood against the trunk. Magic crackled around me, the spellform seemingly unable to decide if it wanted to let me in or throw me out. I cursed my father under my breath, realising - too late - that my blood would be unmistakeably female. I was very definitely not my father, whoever I was. The magic flickered - for a moment, I was sure it was going to try to kill me - and snapped out of existence. The trunk clicked open. I opened the lid enough to confirm I could open and close it at will, then put it to one side. I’d have to study the contents later.

  “Well done,” Gary said. “Do you want to do the others?”

  “I’ll let you do the next one,” I said. It would mean giving him a little of my blood, but it would be very educational. “Please.”

  Gary nodded and went to work. I watched, studying precisely how he charmed my blood to fool the wards. It was a cunning trick, one that wouldn’t last for long, but ... it worked. I watched him open two more, planning to find a way to practice as soon as possible. Gary wouldn’t be happy, I was sure, if I told him what I wanted to do with the knowledge. There was no way I could ask him directly.

  “There are a few other wards I can’t change,” I said, carefully. “Would you like to take a look at them?”

  “Sure,” Gary said. “It should be fun.”

  It was, although perhaps not for the reason he had in mind. I watched and learnt as he cast spells and manipulated the wards, keeping up a running commentary that both educated and suggested lines of enquiry for later experimentation. I didn’t have a big library - my father had apparently sold most of the books to raise funds -
but I was fairly sure I could get access to Magus Court’s library if I wanted. I was an aristocrat with a family seat, after all. Gary seemed to grow more and more enthused as the hours wore on, dragging me along as he studied the older wards. Who’d have thought there were so many chinks in our defences?

  “It’s an old problem,” he said, when we were both tired and happy. We headed down to the kitchenette. “The more complex the wards, the smaller the space they can cover.”

  I nodded in agreement as I heated the water and brewed tea for both of us. Brantley, damn the man, would have been flabbergasted if I’d made tea for him. He honestly wouldn’t have known what to make of it. I could have taken off my clothes in front of him and he would have been less shocked. A member of the aristocracy, a girl born with her nose in the air, making tea? It would have been astonishing. Gary, of course, didn’t know there was anything unusual about it. He had no way to know most Grande Dames would sooner have died than admit they couldn’t afford a servant to make tea.

  “Thank you,” he said, when I placed the mug in front of him. He didn’t know or care it wasn’t served in the finest china, perhaps with a hint of fancy cream. “I ... next time, maybe you can come to my house.”

  “That would be nice,” I said. I wasn’t sure that was true. “I ... thank you for your help.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” Gary said. “Do you want to do some more?”

  “I think so, later,” I said. I’d have to do some research, perhaps figure out what questions I needed to ask. And what questions I could ask. “I enjoyed it.”

  Gary blinked. “Really?”

  I had to smile. “Yes, really.”

  “You’re the first person who’s ever said that,” Gary told me. “My father and sister thought I was mad to go into charms.”

  “They have their uses,” I said. I’d bet the family fortune - which wasn’t very much, come to think of it - that Gary’s house was practically invulnerable. “Why didn’t your sister study magic?”

  “She knows some,” Gary said. “But she had to help Dad with the business.”

  “I see.” I sipped my tea, thoughtfully. I needed a shower and then ... and then I needed to go through the opened boxes very carefully. “Gary ... can you think of a good reason for hiring a bunch of potioneers?”

  “To make potions?” Gary made a face. “Why else?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. In hindsight, I was fairly sure House Braddock had been trying to hire potioneers without making it obvious. It wouldn’t have been hard to hire potioneers, particularly if they just wanted someone to follow the recipe and not make any improvements along the way. “It just bugs me.”

  “Well, whoever is hiring them might want to mass-produce something,” Gary said. “Healing potions, perhaps. Or something used to make Devices of Power.”

  Or Objects of Power, I thought. Brantley’s Aunt mentioned House Aguirre, didn’t she?

  “Perhaps.” I finished my tea and stood. “Thank you very much for a lovely afternoon.”

  Gary smiled. “It was a very interesting afternoon,” he agreed. He stood, looking as if he wanted to take me in his arms. I recognised the signs of a boy who wanted to be forward, but didn’t quite dare. “And I hope to see you again soon.”

  I hesitated, torn between the urge to kiss him and the grim awareness it would only hurt him. He was no aristocrat who’d expect a political marriage ... I felt another twinge of guilt as I rang the bell for Jadish. She could take Gary downstairs and show him out while I showered, then went back to the office to read my father’s notes and work on the puzzle. Why did House Braddock want so many potioneers?

  And how, I asked myself, can I turn it to my advantage?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Welcome to House Aguirre,” Alana Aguirre said, as she led us into her father’s study. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

  “All of it true, apart from the lies,” I said. Alana sounded almost ... envious. I found it hard to hide my irritation. Alana had more wealth and power now, as Heir Primus, than I had as Matriarch of House Lamplighter. And yet, her hair was still in braids. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and your father formally.”

  I curtsied as Lord Joaquin Aguirre, High Magus of Magus Court, stood and walked around his desk. He was a tall man with very dark skin and darker eyes. His hair was woven into a fancy design that might, or might not, be a wig. His suit was finely-tailored to show off his form without either displaying his muscles or hiding a paunch. I felt a glimmer of respect, mingled with envy. House Aguirre was so wealthy that this man - and his children and grandchildren - could spend madly, without ever bankrupting themselves.

  “Lord Aguirre,” I said. I indicated my companions. “Please allow me to introduce Stefano Lamplighter and Jayne Parkinson, Master Brewer.”

  Lord Aguirre bowed in greeting. “Please, be seated,” he said. “I was very interested to read your note.”

  I nodded as I took my seat, studying Lord Aguirre and his daughter thoughtfully. Alana was striking rather than pretty, her face a little too hard-edged for my tastes. I’d met enough girls like her over the years, far from stupid and yet very entitled and demanding. I wondered, idly, if her father had started to consider possible husbands. Alana would need to marry well, just like me. It didn’t help that her sister was already betrothed to an Heir Primus. There was no way Alana could marry that well.

  “My clients and I have a proposal,” I began, trying not to show my concern. I’d done a lot of research over the last few days, but it was hard to be sure I was right. Brantley and his family might have been up to something completely different. “And I think it may be of interest to you.”

  I spoke rapidly, explaining that I’d agreed to serve as representative for a small association of potioneers. They weren’t precisely my clients, but I’d been the one who’d called them together and promised them gainful employment. House Aguirre could outbid House Braddock even if Brantley hadn’t been such a pain in the neck. I’d made sure to approach most of the potioneers he’d asked, the ones who might be interested if someone else had made the offer. If House Aguirre really did want the potioneers, they’d have to go through me.

  Unless they want to undercut me, I thought. They could, if they wanted, but it would cost them in the long run. Besides, I didn’t really care. The real objective was to take a look inside Aguirre Hall. Let them think they have the advantage if they want.

  “Interesting,” Lord Aguirre said, when I had finished. “Alana?”

  I smiled, inwardly, as I looked at the other girl. Alana was only a year or so younger than me, give or take a month or two, yet she wore a dress that looked surprisingly like her father’s suit. She would spend most of her life training for a job she could only inherit, if she inherited it at all, after her father died. And yet ... he seemed intent on giving her a voice. I wondered if she was getting more training or if she’d been primed to ask the right questions or ... there was no way to know. Lord Aguirre had been in power longer than I’d been alive. He was too experienced to take lightly. He certainly wouldn’t reveal his hand so easily.

  “We are famous for our potions,” Alana said, citing the family line. “Why would we need to hire more potioneers?”

  “Because there’s a limit to how much you can produce in a given space of time,” I said, calmly. She had to know it. I was sure of it. “And your Potion Masters need time to experiment if they want to devise new potions.”

  Alana smiled. “True enough, I suppose.”

  Lord Aguirre turned to Jayne and bombarded her with questions. Jayne replied, calmly and thoughtfully. I was impressed, even though I’d made sure to sit her down and force her to practice answering questions from a hostile questioner. Lord Aguirre had thought of a few questions I’d never considered, but - thankfully - Jayne was able to answer them. I suspected he knew he could cheat me out of my share of the profits, if he wished ... I dismissed the thought with a shrug. Better to be thought a fool than so
mething worse.

  “We will be interested in hiring you as a group,” Lord Aguirre said, finally. “I believe we can discuss terms ...”

  “My lawyer will handle the negotiations,” I said, indicating Uncle Stefano. I’d given him careful orders to prolong the discussion as long as possible. “Mistress Jayne and I should not be involved.”

  Lord Aguirre smiled, very briefly. “Alana, perhaps you could escort Mistress Jayne and Lady Lamplighter to a waiting room,” he said. He didn’t sound surprised by my stance. It was better to have a go-between when it came to handling negotiations. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Of course, father,” Alana said. She sounded more pleased than I’d expected. “If you’ll come with me ...”

  I stood and allowed Alana to lead us down the corridor and into a finely appointed waiting room. A maid stood by one wall, ready to serve tea or coffee. Alana sat on a comfortable sofa and motioned for us to sit beside her. I hesitated, then explained I needed to visit the bathroom. Alana pointed me down the hall as she started to talk to Jayne. I was fairly sure she was planning to undercut me, whatever her father said. I hid my amusement with an effort. Brantley was probably planning to undercut his family too.