The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  I forced myself forward until I was prostrating myself. My heart clenched, again, as I heard Gary gasp. Girls of my class didn’t kneel, let alone prostrate themselves. Ancients alone knew what he thought of me ... I swallowed hard, silently praying Malachi would take the bait. I had his measure now. A more practical man might take precautions, but he wanted to force me to submit. He wanted to watch an aristocratic girl crawl.

  And I offered him a loophole he could use to break his word without actually breaking it, I thought, as I waited. He’ll see a chance to torment my friends without letting me break my oath.

  Malachi removed his boot, then put his bare foot forward. “Kiss it.”

  Gary gasped. I cringed inwardly as I inched forward, practically crawling on my belly. I hoped he’d forgive me, I hoped he’d forget, as I pressed my lips against his bare skin. Malachi started, too late, as I hit him with the kissing curse. It would have been more effective if I’d kissed his lips, but skin-to-skin contact was all that was really required. I shoved the spell at him with all the power I could muster, brushing aside his defences. He yelped in shock as his body melted into a slug, his eyes going wide with shock a moment before they were gone. I brought my head down on him as hard as I could, squashing him. The wards let me go a moment later and receded into the background.

  “Fuck.” Gary sounded stunned. “What did you ...?”

  “No time.” I scrambled to my feet. Malachi was dead and I’d killed him and ... I’d come to terms with it later. The wards were still humming, faint flickers of magic pressing against my mind. “Grab the device. We have to move.”

  Gary nodded and hurried to the cabinet. The memory device sat on the trolley. Gary yanked it forward, then cast a levitation spell to send the trolley gliding along the corridor and down the stairs. He scooped up a handful of notebooks - I guessed they were notes on how the device worked - and turned. I motioned for him to go, my eyes on the orbs and files. Temptation warred with common sense. The secrets of the Great Houses lay in front of me. I could take the files for myself: I could take the house for myself. I could use them ...

  My eyes lingered on Auntie Dorcas’s file. What had she done? What had ... I shook my head. I didn’t want to know, even though part of me did. I’d always loved secrets, but ... I winced as I raised my hand and cast a spell. I’d learnt my lesson. It was time to let the secrets burn, unread and unwatched. The fire spread rapidly, the flames flickering strange colours as they consumed the charmed notebooks and memory orbs. I muttered another spell, sending the orbs crashing to the ground with as much force as I could muster. A whirlwind of images assailed me, the memories so badly jumbled that it was impossible to learn anything from them. I turned as the air grew hotter, waves of fire cascading out of the cabinet and into the office. The wards should have tried to suppress the fire, but did nothing. I guessed Malachi had wanted to make sure he could destroy the evidence in a hurry, if his enemies came to call. He couldn’t have dirt on everyone.

  “Come on!” Gary was standing at the top of the stairs. The frozen servants bobbled beside him, their eyes wide with fear. The spell wouldn’t save them if the entire building came crashing down. We’d have to get them out. “Hurry!”

  I turned and fled, chanting more and more fire spells. The office exploded into flames, the desk catching fire so quickly I knew it had been rigged to blow. I heard a bang behind me and forced myself to sprint. The entire house was starting to collapse. Flames licked along the walls and ceiling as I made it to the stairs, Penny’s portrait starting to melt as the fires consumed it. I saw her face twist out of shape, an instant before the painting fell. I felt a stab of sympathy, despite everything. I knew what it was like to lose a father. Malachi hadn’t been much of one - he’d clearly paid more attention to Francis than his daughter - but he’d been hers.

  The painting hit the floor. Behind it, I saw a safe twisted by the sagging wall, with the door hanging open. I peered inside and saw a handful of bank books, each relating to a different bank. Silent banks, where everyone was sworn to keep their mouths firmly shut and no one - save for the account holder - knew who owned what. I hesitated, then grabbed the books and shoved them in my pouch. It was possible I might be able to claim the cash myself, on the grounds I held the account books, or simply pass them on to Penny. It might make up for what I’d done. I made a mental note to read them first, just in case. The accounts might be far too revealing if the books fell into unfriendly hands.

  There’d be a list of who sent him money, I thought, although I wasn’t sure that was true. Malachi hadn’t seemed to care if his victims knew who he was or not - rubbing their nose in their servitude had been part of the thrill - but they had families. If the families traced the money, they’d want answers. And only a fool would rely completely on oaths of silence. He’s much more likely to have worked with untraceable cash.

  The smoke grew worse as we made it down the stairs. I muttered spells to protect myself, breathing a sigh of relief as I saw Ayesha and Marlene. Another pair of servants bobbled beside them. I muttered a silent prayer that we’d found them all as they hurried into the garage, leaving me behind. If we’d missed anyone, they were unlikely to survive.

  And Malachi is dead, I thought, numbly.

  I wanted to laugh - Malachi should have remembered what Ayesha did to Akin - but I could barely muster a smile. He’d deserved to die. I was sure of it. And yet, I’d done the deed. I’d turned him into a slug and killed him. He needed to die and yet ... I swallowed, hard. It would be a long time, I was sure, before I came to terms with what I’d done.

  He won’t hurt anyone, ever again, I told myself. The ceiling started to collapse, burning debris falling to the ground. I felt the building shake and guessed the fires had reached the potions store. It was only a matter of time. Malachi’s body would never be found. I wondered if anyone would care to look. He had plenty of enemies who’d be quite happy to be rid of him. No one would look too closely. His secrets will die with him.

  A hand caught my arm. “Lucy!”

  I turned. Gary stood there, his magic wrapped around him. He looked tired and sweaty and unkempt and handsome. I wondered how he could even bear to look at me. He’d seen me on my knees, promising Malachi the world ... he knew how close we’d come to total disaster. I wouldn’t blame him, not really, if he wanted nothing more to do with me. Ayesha and the others would probably hate me too. I’d come far too close to damning them forever.

  “Come on,” Gary said. He didn’t let go. “The entire building is about to come down!”

  He dragged me into the garage. Malachi’s carriage sat in front of me, the horses missing ... I hoped the driver had taken them to the stables. Or that Marlene had freed them. She’d always loved horses, even though she hadn’t been a competent rider at first. In hindsight, that had been more than a little odd ... I put the thought out of my head as I followed him into the street, casting the final spells as I ran. Behind me, the flames grew stronger. I heard a dull roar as the building collapsed. Malachi’s collection of secrets was gone.

  Ayesha and Marlene were waiting in the alley. “I put the servants in the carriage,” Ayesha shouted, as we scrambled inside. “What do we do with them?”

  “Take them with us,” I shouted back. I had enough on my conscience already. I wasn’t going to leave a handful of innocent girls to the mercies of the crowd. Besides, I was fairly sure they hadn’t served Malachi willingly. I could wipe their memories if they refused to keep their mouths shut. “We’ll deal with them later.”

  I stared out the window as Kate whipped the horses into life. The carriage rattled as it lurched forward, the horses pulling us onto the street. A handful of people watched the fires ... I thought I saw others peeking from behind curtains, trying not to be seen as they watched the entire block burn. No one seemed to be trying to put out the blaze. I felt a twinge of guilt, then remembered that Malachi’s family owned the whole block. No one else lived there. There’d be no risk to anyone else.<
br />
  “We did it.” Gary whooped as we raced down the street. “We won!”

  I felt sick. Malachi was dead ... I’d killed him. I knew I shouldn’t feel guilt, but ... I did. I’d killed him and ... I’d done a lot of things. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Nothing would ever be the same again. Ayesha would hate me, Gary and Kate would be wary of me, Marlene ... even Marlene would have her doubts. She knew just how close I’d come to blackmailing her too.

  And there’s one thing left to do, I thought, as my eyes lingered on the memory catcher. I’d had an idea. A good one. And then it will all be over.

  Ayesha cleared her throat. “Won’t we be stopped before we can get away?”

  “You only thought of that now?” Gary laughed. “This is Water Shallot. We’ll be across the bridges before anyone thinks to stop us.”

  And he was right.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Lord Carioca Rubén studied me thoughtfully. I studied him back. Akin’s father was a tall, powerfully built man with an air of dignity and power I knew I couldn’t match. His blond wig - I was sure it was a wig, if only because men rarely wasted their time doing their hair - was styled in a manner that dated all the way back to the Thousand-Year Empire. His family was the oldest in the city and never let anyone forget it. I wondered, as we waited to see who’d break the silence first, just how much they’d forgotten over the years.

  And how much they chose to forget recently, I thought. I’d been very tempted to point out that we’d done House Rubén an immense service. They should have dealt with Malachi themselves, instead of merely kicking him out of North Shallot. If they knew what we’d done for them ...

  I sighed inwardly. Malachi’s account books hadn’t been as helpful as I’d hoped. Some were just too detailed, with names and accounts listed that were just too revealing. The money couldn’t be claimed without raising too many questions. Others ... I shook my head. Better to return the money to his victims, if possible. I didn’t want to know what they’d done. It would be too dangerous.

  “You requested this meeting,” Carioca said, finally. “What can I do for you?”

  I smoothed down my skirt, then opened my bag and produced a small collection of papers and a memory orb. “We have made a remarkable breakthrough,” I said, carefully. The notes had named the designer - the newspapers claimed he’d died in an accident I was fairly sure was nothing of the sort - but I wasn’t sure if they were telling the truth. Carioca’s family might have devised the orbs and simply kept them secret. Approaching him was a calculated gamble. “We have devised a Device of Power that lets you copy memories for later viewing.”

  The orb glinted in my palm. Gary and I had worked out the designs, from the combination of notes and studying the stolen device, then Kate and her father had produced a working model of their own. I’d had to spend a great deal of money just to purchase the components, much to my family’s horror. Uncle Jalil had been tight-lipped, when I’d told him what had happened, but he’d been the first to remind me that I was very short on funds. Thankfully, the rest of the family would have to wait before they could challenge me.

  I held it out. “Take a look.”

  Carioca took the orb, his face expressionless. I watched as he peered into the light and became enveloped in the memory. My memory. I’d taken a walk through the park, bathing in sunlight as I’d watched people going about their business. The memory showed kids playing with boats and adults running around the lake, puffing and panting as they ran past. There was nothing incriminating in the memory, but it didn’t matter. The memory orbs could be used for good as well as ill.

  “Impressive,” he said, finally. “I assume you have the patent?”

  “Yes.” I breathed a sigh of relief. We weren’t about to be accused of stealing his family’s work. “We filed it two days ago.”

  “I see.” Carioca sat upright and returned the orb. “I assume you have a proposal?”

  “Yes.” I met his eyes, evenly. “I propose a split. You invest four thousand crowns in production and distribution. In exchange, you receive a third of the profits. I took the liberty of writing the figures down” - I held out the paperwork - “and running the calculations. It should make us all rich.”

  Carioca studied the figures for a long moment. “You intend to sell the devices as well as the orbs?”

  “Yes,” I said. We were going to have to come up with a better name. Neither the inventor nor Malachi had come up with a proper name for the device. “There is money to be made in copying memories, but everyone will want a copier as well as the copy.”

  “And some people will have memories they won’t want to show to anyone else,” Carioca said, dryly. “They’ll prefer to own a copier themselves.”

  I nodded. My throat was dry. Carioca had a reputation for being cunning, cunning and ruthless. He might be more aware of what had happened to his brother-in-law - his former brother-in-law - than he was prepared to admit. It was quite possible Carioca had backed Malachi all along. Malachi had suggested otherwise, but he was the perfect example of an unreliable witness. Carioca might have something to gain if Malachi found dirt on Carioca’s political enemies. And he could deny everything if caught.

  “Four thousand crowns,” Carioca said. “You price yourself low.”

  “I believe we can make that and more very quickly,” I said. “Our rivals will, of course, try to find a way around our patent, but it will take time for them to come up with a working model. Until then, the market is ours. We should have an excellent chance to make a sizable profit.”

  And not have too close ties to you, I added, in the privacy of my own mind. We’re still the weakest of the Great Houses. We cannot afford to get too close to any of the more powerful houses.

  “I quite agree.” Carioca put the paperwork to one side. “My people will speak to your people. You’ll have a final contract by the end of the day.”

  I nodded. Uncle Stefano was already waiting outside. I’d given him some pretty clear instructions - and it looked as if Carioca wasn’t going to haggle any longer than necessary - but it would be better if I stayed away. Uncle Stefano didn’t have the final say in anything and everyone knew it, including him. If Carioca bullied him into producing a less favourable contract, I would be quite within my rights to reject it.

  “And may I say how impressive it has been, watching you develop a name for yourself,” Carioca said. “My son was quite impressed.”

  “Thank you,” I said. Was that a hint Carioca knew the truth? Or should I just take it at face value? “I hope he’ll host his next party at Lamplighter Hall.”

  Carioca looked pained. “It would be better not to speak of it,” he said. “But we shall see.”

  I stood and curtsied. “It was nice doing business with you,” I said. “And I hope to get the countersigned contract back to you tonight.”

  The butler met me as I left the office and escorted me down the stairs to the entrance hall. I stopped by a row of portraits, studying the line of blond boys and blonde girls. Penny’s face leapt out at me ... she looked younger, at least two years younger. I felt another pang of guilt as I turned away and followed the butler into the bright sunlight. Penny had taken one of the account books, when I’d freed her from the ironhold, and given her word to keep her mouth closed. I wasn’t too worried about her talking. The only people who might take her seriously were Carioca and his family, and they had their own reasons to say and do nothing.

  Which I pointed out to her, at great length, I mused. I hoped she’d listened. I didn’t want to do anything more drastic, not after Malachi’s death. And offered to start reintroducing her to high society if she keeps her word.

  I walked down the driveway, not bothering to summon a carriage. It was a lovely day. I wanted to walk. My lips curved into a smile as I passed through the gate and stepped onto the road. The Grande Dames would be horrified if they saw me walking. After everything else that had happened, over the last few weeks, I found it h
ard to care. Let them foam at the mouth at the mere thought of a young girl walking a short distance. It was hardly something they could use to blackmail me.

  My thoughts grew darker as I walked down the street, turning the corner and heading up the road towards the shore - and Lamplighter Hall. Malachi was dead, but he wasn’t the only one. Lady Mathews was dead ... I winced, inwardly. I hadn’t been able to do anything for her children, although - thankfully - they’d inherited without challenge. Poppy had accepted my offer of employment, as had Malachi’s former servants. Their lives had been turned upside down too. I breathed a sigh of relief he’d been such an awful master. It would have been harder to bury the story if they’d felt any loyalty to him.

  And you really shouldn’t be pleased about it, I told myself. I passed through the gate - we’d fixed the sign - and hurried up the driveway. He could have gone on for years, bullying servants and blackmailing aristocrats, if he hadn’t backed you into a corner.

  Jadish met me as I stepped into the hall. “My Lady, Lady Ayesha is waiting for you in the reception room.”