The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  I glanced at Gary, wishing - suddenly - that he’d been raised as an aristocrat. An aristocrat would understand that we weren’t marrying for love, but duty. He might be quite reasonable about such things. But a commoner would put love before reason, before his family ... I remembered the stories Kate had loved and shuddered. I couldn’t run away to be with my lover, even if it was more romantic than entire baskets of roses. My duty to the family came first.

  I’m sorry, I thought. I didn’t want to admit what I’d done, not to him. I’m really sorry.

  “There’s supposed to be a party the following week,” Gary said, suddenly. “My sister is hosting ... if she manages to talk my father into letting her. Would you like to come?”

  “I might,” I said. “What sort of party?”

  “A terribly boring party men aren’t allowed to attend,” Gary said. “She asked me to invite you.”

  I hesitated. I’d never met my prospective sister-in-law, but ... everything I’d heard about her indicated she’d be a welcome addition to the family. And a formidable opponent, if I got on her bad side. I’d heard all sorts of horror stories about wives - and sometimes husbands - who managed to alienate their in-laws. I supposed that wouldn’t be a problem for Gary. My parents were dead. It was yet another reminder that I simply didn’t fit. I was too high-ranked to hang with my age group and too young and isolated to work with my peers.

  “I can’t make any promises,” I said. “But if she sends me a formal invitation, I might just be able to attend.”

  Gary smiled. “We don’t do formal invitations,” he said. “Just word of mouth.”

  I laughed. “Can I move into your house?”

  “I wouldn’t say no,” Gary said. “My mother, on the other hand ...”

  “You make your life sound so easy,” I said. “Can you imagine the sort of insult you’d deliver, over here, if you didn’t send someone a written invitation?”

  “No.” Gary winked at me. “You make it sound so inviting.”

  My heart clenched. No one would be sending me any invitations, written or not, when the truth came out. I’d be shunned ... I shook my head as my stomach started to churn. I was damned if I let that happen. I’d play along with Malachi until I got the drop on him and then put a knife in his back. And then ... I smiled, rather wanly. If I wasn’t the only one who’d been targeted for blackmail, I might just be able to get the others to speak up for me afterwards. Might.

  “It’s ... just a way of life,” I said. “We have strict rules about etiquette to keep us from actually fighting.”

  Rules I’ve snapped, my thoughts added. Rules ...

  “My Lady!” I looked up to see Jadish, hurrying towards me. “We just received a priority message for you!”

  I took the charmed envelope and opened it, gingerly. A single note dropped out. A place, a time and a name. Malachi. I swore as I glanced at my watch. I’d have to hurry. I had a feeling he wouldn’t tolerate lateness. And ...

  “I have to go,” I said. “Jadish, get the carriage ready.”

  Jadish bobbled a curtsy and hurried off. I folded the note and stuck it in my pocket, then looked at Gary. He seemed irked, but understanding. I would almost have preferred him to be angry. It would be easier to break things off with him if he’d been outraged. We had arranged the meeting, hadn’t we?

  “I have to go,” I repeated. “Will you be here next week?”

  “You know I will,” Gary said. “I enjoy your company.”

  I surprised myself by giving him a hug. It would be easy, very easy, to suggest that we ran off together. A charmsmith could find work anywhere. But he wouldn’t want to abandon his family and run ... I winced, inwardly, as he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back. I’d been living in a fool’s paradise. Now ... now, all I could do was hope I got a clear shot at my tormentor.

  “Thanks,” I said. I wanted to hold him for hours, but I didn’t have time. “I enjoy yours too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage rattled to a halt outside an expensive and very exclusive restaurant on the very edge of North Shallot. I’d heard of it - of course - but I’d never actually visited. They said the food was fantastic, utterly perfect ... I frowned as I scrambled down and ordered the driver to take the carriage back to the hall. I’d walk home, after ... after whatever Malachi wanted from me. The waiter came forward as I stood outside, motioning for me to follow him. I did, frowning as I stepped out of the light. The restaurant struck me as an odd place for a private meeting, despite the formidable charms hanging in the air. We might be noticed.

  The thought nagged at me as I was escorted through the dining chamber and down a long corridor to a private dining room. There were more charms on the door, each complex enough to require a couple of hours to dismantle. I could have done it quicker if I’d been prepared to set off the alarms. The waiter pushed the door open, then stepped aside to allow me to enter. Malachi sat at a table, wearing an ill-fitting suit that looked as if it had been tailored for someone quite a bit larger. I nodded to him as the waiter closed the door behind me. He wouldn’t return until we were ready to order.

  Malachi stood. “Kneel.”

  I groaned, inwardly, as I went down on my knees. I’d expected it, after everything he’d done last time we’d met, but it was still humiliating. He stared down at me, drinking in the sight. I’d picked my clothes carefully, trying to convey an impression of helplessness ... I wondered, as his eyes wandered over me, if I’d gone too far. It was easy to pretend to be weak and powerless - I’d done it before - but he knew too much about me to be easily duped into lowering his guard. I’d just have to wait, biding my time. Uncle Jalil had yet to return with his report.

  Malachi patted me on the forehead, then stepped back and sat down. I stayed where I was, all too aware he was just waiting for an opportunity to slap me down. He studied me for a moment, lips curved into a cruel smile, then shrugged and motioned for me to rise and take the seat facing him. I breathed a sigh of relief he hadn’t ordered me to sit next to him. I suspected that would have been awful beyond words.

  “Order whatever you like,” Malachi said. His smile grew colder. “You’ll be paying, of course.”

  I said nothing as I scanned the menu. There was a long list of fancy meals - half of them foreign - but no prices. I knew what that meant. If you had to ask the price, you couldn’t afford it. I’d never been given the chance to develop expensive tastes - Marlene had said I was a plebe at heart, despite the family name - but I had a feeling Malachi would pick the most expensive thing on the menu because he could. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. He was enjoying making me dance to his tune.

  And he looks a slob because he wants people to think I’m meeting a slob, I thought, sourly. A man raised in High Society would know how to wear a suit. It would have been easy to have the outfit tailored properly. It’s all part of his game.

  Malachi rang a little bell. The waiter returned and bowed so deeply I thought his nose would brush against the floor. Malachi smiled and ordered a dish I’d never heard of, with a drink I knew all too well. I sighed inwardly, then ordered something simpler for myself with a glass of water. I knew better than to drink. My one experience with alcohol had been enough.

  “This place is very private,” Malachi said. His face twisted in a leer. “You could do anything here, anything at all, and the staff wouldn’t say a word.”

  “I imagine that was why you picked it,” I said. I reached out with my senses, as gingerly as I could. Malachi wasn’t the strongest sorcerer I’d encountered, but he was far from inept. His protections were strong enough to keep me from weakening them without alerting him. “Do they even know who you are?”

  “They like to consider themselves the most exclusive of exclusive places in the city,” Malachi said, his words echoing my earlier thoughts. “But the blunt truth, my dear, is that they’ll take anyone who can meet their prices.”

 
I nodded, somehow unsurprised. “They have to make a living somehow.”

  “Of course.” Malachi winked. “And so do you.”

  The waiter returned, followed by a waitress wearing a dress so low I wasn’t sure what was keeping it in place. I was almost embarrassed to look at her. They both carried trays of food, which they placed in front of us. I was almost disappointed. The meal looked elegant, almost beautiful, but there was very little of it. I was going to be grossly overcharged. The waiter poured Malachi’s wine, then bowed and retreated. Malachi’s eyes followed the waitress as she left too.

  “Please, eat,” Malachi said. “You’re paying.”

  Don’t remind me, I thought, as I took a bite. I tasted pasta and fish and something I couldn’t quite place. I’d never had the chance to follow food fashions either. Grayling’s never served anything remotely fashionable - I was fairly sure we were overcharged, for the bland muck we were served - and there hadn’t been any expensive restaurants nearby. Whatever this is, it’ll cost far too much.

  “You’re quite an interesting person, you know,” Malachi said. “Your father was just like you.”

  “So I’m told,” I said. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make conversation, in mockery of social conventions, or if he was making a point. Had he known my father? It was possible. My father had never been very good at keeping records. There were enough gaps in his notebooks to hide an entire army of visitors. “Did you know him?”

  Malachi ignored the question. “You’ve been quite brave and bold. I’ve only met a couple of people who were so determined to tear through everything in their path and they both had far less to lose.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I tried not to sound sour, but I thought it was a losing battle. “I do whatever I have to do.”

  “Capital.” Malachi clapped his hands. “An excellent attitude.”

  “I try.” I took another bite of my dinner. It was good, but not worth more than a crown or two. “I have reports from school saying I keep trying until I win.”

  “And you have no qualms about cutting corners, according to your schoolmistress,” Malachi said. “Of course, I knew that already.”

  I glanced up. “You talked to her?”

  Malachi smiled, but didn’t answer. I felt my heart sink. Malachi didn’t have to talk to Mistress Grayling to get his hands on my reports. They’d be lodged in the records office, where anyone could see them. Or ... he could simply have blackmailed someone at school to send them to him. Or ... I told myself I was overthinking. It was summer, the season of love. He could easily have posed as a concerned relative, vetting me as a potential partner for his nephew. I didn’t think Mistress Grayling would ask too many questions. She was always keen to brag about how her girls - her students, really - had made good matches.

  “I didn’t see that on my report card,” I said. “What else did she say?”

  “Enough to really interest me,” Malachi said. “Your disciplinary record is quite remarkable.”

  I flushed. “And there I was, thinking it was burnt when I left school.”

  “Nothing is ever gone for good.” Malachi smirked at me. “As I’m sure you’re aware by now.”

  “Yes,” I said. “You taught me that.”

  I thought about the memory orb and shivered. What else had he seen? Who else had he corrupted? Who else ... I stared at him, wondering if he’d managed to subvert the servants without the servants being aware they were subverted. They’d pass loyalty checks because none of them would know they were disloyal. Truth spells could force someone to tell the truth, but only what they thought to be the truth. I studied his protections again, cursing under my breath. They were good enough to keep me from doing anything dangerous. The risk was simply too great.

  “I suppose I did,” Malachi said. “Does that make me the best teacher you’ve ever had?”

  “Better than some,” I said. My tutors had always been a hit-or-miss affair. Some had been very good, some very bad ... I shook my head. I’d passed my exams and that was all that mattered. “You taught me something very useful.”

  “Glad to be of service.” Malachi pushed his plate aside and peered at me. “And now, we get to business.”

  I swallowed a handful of sharp answers. Malachi was mocking me, aping the etiquette of High Society. I wasn’t sure, but I was fairly certain he was common-born. He might well have married into an aristocratic family. I wondered why. He might not be inept, but he wasn’t powerful or skilled enough to merit inclusion. Gary was far more capable and Gary was barely out of his teens. Malachi had to be in his forties, at the very least. He’d really let himself go.

  “What do I want from you?” Malachi let the question hang in the air. “What do I want from you?”

  “I imagine you’re going to tell me,” I said, stiffly. I didn’t want to think about some of the possibilities. “What do you want from me?”

  “We’re quite alike,” Malachi commented. “We’re both prepared to do anything to advance ourselves.”

  I’m nothing like you, I thought, savagely. I’ve never blackmailed anyone ...

  It was all I could do to keep my face under tight control. I’d never blackmailed anyone because I’d never known anything - not much, anyway - that could be used for blackmail. Even if I had ... I’d have been branded a sneak and ostracized for the rest of my schooling and beyond. My heart cringed at the thought. You could do a lot, as a schoolchild passing through her teens, but you could never tattle. No one would ever trust you again.

  Malachi smiled. “You were willing to run a huge risk for money,” he said. “You’re just like me.”

  “I want to rebuild my family,” I agreed, stiffly. There was no point in trying to hide it. He knew what I’d been doing and he probably understood why. “What do you want from me?”

  “What an interesting question,” Malachi said. “How many times have you asked it now?”

  He reached into his pocket and removed a memory orb. Another memory orb. I’d left mine back at the hall, wrapped in so many wards even I would have trouble getting inside. I didn’t dare run the risk of allowing anyone else to so much as touch it, for fear their magic would accidentally trigger it. I was in quite enough trouble already. I took the second orb and stared at it, suddenly fearful. What would I see when I looked into the magic?

  “Go ahead,” Malachi ordered. “Have a look inside.”

  I took a breath, then peered into the orb. The world seemed to spin around me. I was suddenly sitting in a study, sitting on a comfortable armchair ... the scene looked odd, weirdly distorted. I puzzled over it for a long moment, then realised that whoever had recorded the memory had been significantly different from me. Bigger, perhaps. The study was quite large, by my standards, but small for a bigger man.

  A young man - blond, blue eyes, strikingly handsome in a manner that proved he knew it - sat in front of me. He wore a Jude’s uniform, carefully tailored to show off his muscles ... I guessed he was around the same age as myself, maybe a year or two in either direction. And ... he looked a little like Akin, but he had a cruel expression that reminded me of Malachi. A Rubén? It was possible. He certainly had the looks.

  “She turned Akin into a frog,” the young man said. “She turned him into a frog with a kiss and dumped him in the girls' locker room.”

  I heard a chuckle. It took me a moment to realise it had come from my lips. Except they weren’t my lips ... I gritted my teeth, feeling more and more disorientated by the memory. It wasn’t mine, but it felt like mine.

  “Who?” My voice sounded masculine. Of course ... it wasn’t my voice. “And why?”

  “Ayesha McDonald,” the young man said. “He was very lucky to escape.”

  “She used the kissing curse on him,” the masculine voice said. “That’s interesting. That’s very interesting indeed.”

  The memory came to an end. I fell back into my body, nearly dropping the orb. Akin ... someone had hit Akin with the kissing curse? Ayesha McDonald had hit A
kin with the kissing curse and tossed him into the girls' locker room? I swallowed hard as the implications dawned on me. There were almost too many to count. She’d threatened the alliance between House Rubén and House Aguirre, she’d threatened the relationship between Akin and Caitlyn and ... she’d nearly disgraced Akin. If he’d been caught in the locker room ... the girls would have hexed him bloody, then whatever was left would have been expelled. And he wouldn’t have been able to defend himself without tattling on Ayesha. And ...

  Malachi chuckled. “Funny, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I managed. I suppose it would have been funny, to everyone watching from the sidelines. The damage would have been almost incalculable. “How did you ... is it even true?”

  “Francis was always quite boastful,” Malachi said. I guessed Francis was the young blond man. “And I never had any trouble influencing him to tell the truth.”