The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  I nodded. “Thank you,” I said. I’d offered her the money for a down-payment on her shop, but she’d decided to wait until summer was over to look. “I’ll see her there.”

  “Yes, My Lady,” Jadish said. “Should I bring tea?”

  “Please,” I said. It was odd for anyone to visit without sending a messenger ahead, but ... I supposed Ayesha counted as a friend now. We’d been through so much together. Marlene was a friend too now, of sorts. I would never have expected it. And Kate and Gary and ... I winced. I’d have to talk to Gary soon. We hadn’t sat down and talked properly since we’d fled the burning house. “Bring it when you have a moment.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked up the stairs and entered the chamber. Ayesha sat on a chair, reading a newspaper. I smiled at her as she stood, then gave her a hug. She returned it, before sitting down again. She looked as if she had something preying on her mind.

  “Lucy.” Her voice was very quiet, as if she feared someone was watching us. “What happened to the orbs?”

  “Gone,” I said. I’d smashed the two remaining orbs - the ones Malachi had left with me - after his death. “I destroyed them.”

  “Good.” Ayesha relaxed, slightly. “Akin isn’t the only person who knows what happened, but ... everyone else has their own reasons to keep their mouths shut.”

  “Like me.” I grinned at her. “What were you thinking?”

  Ayesha shrugged. “I was mad at him,” she said. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking. There were plenty of ways I could have dealt with him without ... without risking everything. I never thought he’d tell anyone.”

  “People have different reactions to different things,” I said. “One person’s nightmare is another person’s dream.”

  “Yeah.” Ayesha looked at her hands for a long moment, then looked up. “He has every right to be mad at me. Why didn’t he care?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I didn’t know Akin very well. “Maybe he figured he deserved it. Or maybe he thought it would make him look an utter prat.”

  “Perhaps.” Ayesha laughed, humourlessly. “Not that it matters, I guess. My formal engagement will be announced at the end of the summer, with a planned wedding the following year. Long enough for my father to assess the boys and decide which of them would be more suitable for the role of consort. He promised he’d decide, then, which of us would be confirmed as his successor.”

  “Assuming the family conclave goes along with it,” I said. “Did you tell Zeya what happened?”

  “I told her about Akin,” Ayesha said. “But not about ... about everything else.”

  I said nothing. I didn’t have siblings. I knew some siblings remained close, throughout their lives; I knew some became bitter enemies, so consumed with hatred that they would destroy their families just to slay their foes. Ayesha and Zeya seemed to have a good relationship, but that could change. Only one of them could take their father’s place. And Zeya knew how to ruin her sister ...

  She’d damage the entire family, I thought. It was true, but ... was it true enough? Would House McDonald punish both sisters? Ayesha for compromising herself, Zeya for compromising the entire family? Who knows what she’ll do?

  I dismissed the thought with a shrug. It wasn’t my problem. Ayesha was a friend, and I’d help her if I could, but there was very little I could actually do. House McDonald wouldn’t care about my opinion of anything. And if they knew what I’d done ... thankfully, I hadn’t been too clear when I’d explained that Malachi was blackmailing me. Without the orb, there was no proof of anything.

  And the spy in their house has probably fled, I thought. They’ll have heard Malachi is dead now.

  “We’ll be holding more parties, if you’ll host them,” Ayesha said, changing the subject completely. “We have to spend time getting to know the boys.”

  “And being careful, I hope,” I said, dryly. “You don’t want your father knowing everything you’re doing.”

  “No,” Ayesha agreed. “What about you?”

  I felt another pang of guilt. “I don’t know,” I said. “Right now, I just want to make something of myself.”

  “I think you already have,” Ayesha said. “How many people, right now, owe you favours?”

  “Malachi’s victims?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to know. And I don’t want them to know either.”

  “True.” Ayesha stood. “We’ll be in touch.”

  I watched her go, then leaned back into my chair. The world seemed a simpler place now, but ... who knew? My eyes wandered up to the portrait of my father as a young man, barely older then than I was now. He looked as if he had the world at his feet. I wondered, once again, if he’d taken his life. He’d certainly had good reason to fear the worst. And ... I told myself, firmly, that I’d avenged him as well as everything else. Malachi was dead. The secret would remain buried.

  Someone cleared his throat. I looked up to see Uncle Jalil. He looked older, as if he’d aged a decade in the last two weeks. I winced, cursing under my breath as I stood. How much had Uncle Jalil known? He would hardly have approved a pyramid scheme that threatened to defraud thousands of innocent people, even if it was a poorly thought out plan instead of genuine malice. I doubted my father had asked him. He would not have approved.

  “Lucy,” Uncle Jalil said. He took a seat facing me. “How did the meeting go?”

  “Very well,” I said. “They’ll be investing in the memory devices. We need a catchier name.”

  “Good, good.” Uncle Jalil looked at me for a long moment, as if he was deciding what to say. “Lucy ... I have to go.”

  I stared at him. “What?”

  “I can’t stay,” Uncle Jalil said. “I watched your father make mistake after mistake, despite my advice, until he died. And then I watched you make worse mistakes. Yes” - he held up a hand - “I know you were desperate. You thought you didn’t have a choice. And you managed to recover from your mistakes, even though you compromised yourself so badly you nearly lost everything.”

  “Things will get better,” I said. “Uncle ...”

  “They might,” Uncle Jalil said. “Lucy, your father was addicted to risk. He gambled everything, time and time again; he gambled even when he couldn’t afford to lose. I watched him lose and lose and lose ... even when he came out ahead, he doubled down until he lost. You have the same problem. You gambled and gambled until you lost.”

  “I know,” I said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Your father said the same thing,” Uncle Jalil said. His voice hardened. “Every time I remonstrated with him, every time I pointed out that he was ruining the family, every time I told him he’d be leaving you with nothing ... he looked me in the eye and promised he wouldn’t do it again. Maybe he meant it, every time he promised. But he did it again and again until he died.”

  He shook his head. “You’re just like him. You’ll tell yourself you won’t do it again and then you’ll do it. Again. And I don’t want to stay and watch you destroy yourself.”

  I felt my heart twist. “Uncle ...”

  “I can’t stay,” Uncle Jalil said. “Please. Respect my decision.”

  “I ...” I swallowed hard, feeling torn between the sense I’d been abandoned and the grim awareness he might be right. The thrill had died, when Malachi had had me under his thumb, but it had returned when I’d raided his house. How long would it be until ... until I got into trouble again? “Uncle ... where will you go?”

  Uncle Jalil shrugged. “I do have some savings. Not much, but some. And a house I can sell. I always wanted to travel and now ... now I have the chance.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I said. “Uncle ...”

  “I don’t know where I’ll go,” Uncle Jalil said. “But I can’t stay.”

  “You’ll always be welcome here,” I said. I forced myself to stand. “And thank you for everything.”

  “I wish you the very best,” Uncle Jalil said. He gave me a hug. “One other thing
? Go speak to Gary. You owe it to him not to leave him dangling. Give him a clear answer and stick to it.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” I said. I knew he was right. I’d put off the discussion I - and Gary - knew we had to have long enough. “I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”

  Chapter Forty

  If there was one advantage to forming and funding a partnership between three different parties, I decided as Jadish showed Gary into my office, it was that no one could reasonably question me inviting one of those parties to a private discussion. They might make snide remarks about chaperones, or hint that perhaps we were closer than we should be, but they couldn’t object openly. It might end up rebounding on them.

  I smiled as I stood and walked around the desk to greet him with a hug. He hugged me back, his touch suggesting he wanted to do a great deal more. I felt it too. Gary was special, in a way none of the other boys I’d known could hope to match. And yet ... I wondered what he thought of me, even as I feared to ask. He’d seen me at my worst. He’d seen me offering to make a deal that would have destroyed me, even if it freed him and the others from a fate worse than death.

  “Please, take a seat,” I said. I wanted to sit next to him, but instead I sat facing him. “I have something to say.”

  “That’s rarely a good sign.” Gary’s voice was light, but I could hear a hint of unease. “I’m ready to listen.”

  My lips quirked. “I guess that makes you the first boy who ever listened.”

  Gary snorted. “We say the same about girls.”

  I laughed, then sobered. My hands twisted in my lap. I’d tried to decide what to say, in the time between sending the message and his arrival, but none of the speeches I’d considered sounded remotely natural. Gary had every reason to shy away from me, to regard me as a dangerous menace ... I winced, remembering Uncle Jalil’s final words. He loved me - I was the closest thing he had to a daughter - but he couldn’t bear to stay. I told myself that I’d learnt my lesson, that I wasn’t going to destroy myself ... it wasn’t convincing. My father had said the same.

  “I have a confession to make,” I said. He deserved the truth, even if it reflected poorly on me. “I agreed to the engagement because your family planned to offer a sizable dowry up front. I hoped I could take the money and use it to earn enough to repay you and break the engagement. I think your father knew as much, when he agreed to the terms.”

  “He did,” Gary said, tonelessly.

  I winced and forced myself to continue. “I made mistakes, as you know. I let myself be compromised. I let myself be ... be caught under a monster’s thumb. I ran the risk of destroying myself and everyone else, including you. If you and the others hadn’t helped, I might have lost everything. The family, the hall ... everything. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

  Gary said nothing. I wished I knew what he was thinking. Did he like me? Hate me? Trust me? Distrust me? He knew how stupid I’d been. He knew ...

  “I got the loan from House Rubén,” I told him. “I can afford to repay the dowry now. You can break the engagement. You don’t have to marry me. We can continue to forge and manufacture the memory devices, without any further commitments. You can” - I swallowed, again - “you can have nothing further to do with me.”

  I felt naked, naked and raw. I owed him the truth ... I understood, now, why some people prayed for hours in the family crypts. Telling the truth to one’s ancestors was cathartic, even if it was painful. No one would overhear, no one would tell ... I felt as if I’d scrubbed myself clean. But Gary was alive, alive and well and perfectly capable of leaving me if he wished. I hated how the thought made me feel. I didn’t want him to go, but I knew he might not want to stay.

  “I like you,” I admitted. It wasn’t something I was supposed to say. High Society regarded marriage as a business arrangement, first and foremost. Feelings - everything from attraction and lust to affection and love - could come later, if they came at all. “I ... I care for you. I ... I don’t know if I love you, but I could. And I ...”

  I broke off, finding it hard to continue. “If you want to have nothing more to do with me, I’ll understand. Your father can handle the business side of the arrangement. You’ll have the dowry back, with interest, so you won’t lose anything. And ... I won’t blame you. I won’t seek you out or ...”

  My voice trailed off. I didn’t want to say any of it. I didn’t want him to go.

  “I like you,” Gary said, quietly. “I ... I do like you.”

  I stared at him. “But ... don’t you know what I did?”

  “You told me,” Gary reminded me. “Lucy ... you made mistakes. Yes, you did. You got yourself into a world of trouble, a world” - his mouth twisted - “that could have destroyed you by turning you into a monster. You ... yes, you made mistakes. But you also did what you could to set them right.”

  “I could have ruined you,” I told him. “And everyone!”

  “I could have walked away,” Gary pointed out. “It was my choice to stay.”

  “I could have ruined you,” I repeated. Didn’t he understand how bad it could have been? We’d committed a whole string of crimes, from kidnapping Penny to setting fire to Malachi’s house. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “I chose to stay.” Gary snorted. “I could have left you to sort out your mess without help.”

  “Yes.” I met his eyes. “I ... thank you.”

  Gary nodded. “Lucy, I like you too. I do ... I do want to spend time with you. I do ... I don’t think the idea of being married to you is too terrible.”

  I opened my mouth, then realised I was being teased. “Kate told me I snore,” I said. “You’ll have some very sleepless nights.”

  “I didn’t have sleeping in mind,” Gary said. “Really.”

  I let out a breath, more relieved than I could say. “I’ll always feel guilty.”

  Gary met my eyes. “What do you want me to do? Hit you? Shout at you? Lock you in your room? Turn you into a frog? Or ... or what?”

  “That was tried, at school,” I said. “I think they tried all of them, at one time or another. They didn’t work.”

  “I guess not.” Gary winked. “You kept going until you got really burnt.”

  I looked down at the floor. “How can you even bear to look at me?”

  Gary leaned forward and hugged me. “You made mistakes, like I said. And you risked everything to put them right. And ... you’re not a bad person. I like you.”

  I felt tears in my eyes. “What ... what now?”

  “We spend the next year courting properly?” Gary leaned back, letting go of me. “You can give the money back or not, as you wish. If we still like each other next summer, we get married as planned. Or we go our separate ways, no hard feelings. How does that sound?”

  Better than I have any right to expect, I thought. Gary might have a very different outlook on life than aristocrats, but ... he knew, even if he didn’t say it out loud, just how badly the affair could have ended. He’d be quite within his rights to tell me to get lost.

  “It sounds ideal,” I said. I leaned forward and kissed him. “What now?”

  “Well, we could go to the zoo,” Gary said. “I hear it’s the place for young couples to go.”

  I laughed as I kissed him again. I had a lot of work to do. Lamplighter Hall was hosting a dozen parties and balls in the next two weeks, from formal coming-out dances to informal gatherings ... I had the feeling, reading between the lines, that House Rubén and House Aguirre were planning to make a very special announcement next week. Caitlyn and her sisters would finally be raised to adulthood, starting the clock ticking towards Akin and Caitlyn’s wedding. I felt a flicker of sympathy. It couldn’t be easy knowing so much rested on their match.

  And we have to push ahead with the memory catchers, I thought. We can use them to make back our fortune ...

  I put the thought out of my head. “Sure,” I said. Our lips met, once again. Maybe it would work out, maybe it wouldn’t ... but at least I’d
given him the chance to go. I promised myself, silently, that I’d never lie to him. He was ... he made me want to be better. “I’d love to.”

  The End

  The Zero Enigma Will Return In:

  The Family Name

  Coming Soon!

  Afterword

  I don’t believe in perfect characters.

  I’m not just talking about Mary Sue-type characters, although they are obnoxious enough to put me off whatever book (or film or whatever) they appear in. People are not perfect and a character who is just awesomely good at whatever s/he does, or gets away with everything because s/he’s the star of the show, is just annoying. Rey Skywalker is, of course, the prime example of such a character. Compared to Mara Jade, who was both a very capable person and a deeply flawed character, Rey is very flat indeed. But she isn’t the point here.