“Quite,” Reginald said. A tingle ran through my skin as he started to cast the spell. “You will complete the potion for me as quickly as possible, consistent with safety. You will not disclose any of my secrets without my prior permission, to anyone. You will not leave the hall, or the city, without my explicit permission ... and, if I give you my permission, you will be back before nightfall unless I say otherwise. The geas will ensure that you come back to me if you try to disobey.”
Magic flared. I screamed, my legs crumpling. I fell to my knees, my entire body shaking as his magic worked its way through me. I felt, just for a second, as if I was complete naked and helpless. And then the magic slowly faded into the background. I closed my eyes, trying to gather myself. The geas was part of me now, woven into my magic. It would notice if I tried to defy him and break his rules.
Reginald looked down at me. “I’ll remove the spell once the potion is completed,” he said, calmly. “It won’t happen again.”
I gritted my teeth. I was tempted to demand his oath, but I knew he wouldn’t give it. I was at his mercy and he knew it. A geas ... Master Travis hadn’t said much about them, but I knew how they worked. It would eventually start nagging me to compete the potion. And there was no easy way to remove it. I’d have to satisfy its demands to have even a hope of removing it.
At least he hasn’t turned you into a puppet , I thought. I cursed under my breath. Reginald could turn me into a puppet, if he wished, but a puppet would never be able to brew the wretched potion. Reginald needed me thinking , not merely obeying. I might have blown up the entire house if I’d followed orders without question .
Reginald held out a hand. I took it, reluctantly, and allowed him to help me to my feet. I wasn’t fooled by the fake courtesy. I was a slave in all but name. I could go downstairs, if I wished, but it wouldn’t be long before the geas brought me up again. I tried, hard, to think as I fought to steady my legs. There had to be a way out, one that didn’t involve trusting Reginald to keep his word. If he’d put a geas on me, I was morbidly certain that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me when I outlived my usefulness.
“You’ll be fine,” Reginald said. He waved a hand at his worktables. “What do you make of my work?”
“I think you’re lucky you haven’t blown yourself up yet,” I told him, bluntly. “Where did you even get these books?”
“There’s an entire library of forbidden textbooks in the ironhold,” Reginald said. He cast a spell with casual ease. “You might be surprised - and horrified - to know what my family has hidden away over the centuries.”
“I’ll need to read some of your textbooks,” I said. “Master Travis didn’t teach me everything I need to know.”
Reginald didn’t bother to argue. “Look up anything you like,” he said expansively, “as long as it’s connected to the potion. Afterwards ... you can read the rest of the collection.”
If you don’t kill me first , I thought. The geas would keep my mouth shut, but a man like Reginald wouldn’t count on it. Rumour claimed that the Kingsmen had a way to circumvent compulsion and secrecy spells without killing the victim. You’ll be the Patriarch. You can’t take the risk of being caught with forbidden tomes .
Reginald walked from table to table, commenting on his experiments in an almost gleeful tone. I felt sick, wondering - again - just how his experiments had remained undetected in Bolingbroke Hall. Reginald’s wards were largely disconnected from the hall’s defences, but something should have been detected. But then, Lord Anton had spent the last few years fighting for his life. He probably had too many other concerns to worry about what his illegitimate son was doing in his chambers.
And hardly anyone would have the nerve to set up an illicit lab here , I admitted. Reginald had nerve . I’d give him that much, despite everything. He was literally trying to steal an entire Great House. The family might not have bothered to scan for dangerous experiments because they wouldn’t expect anyone to dare to try .
“You’re clearly a mind beyond the ordinary,” I said, as he turned back to me. That was definitely true. “But do you have time to carry out your experiments?”
Reginald shrugged. “When I control the family, you can carry them out for me,” he said, blandly. “Now ...”
He turned and led the way into his living room. I followed, feeling the wards steadily closing behind me. He’d staggered them very well, nesting them within the house wards in a manner that made it hard for the house to peer inside his private wards. I had the feeling that the chamber of horrors was a little bigger on the inside than it should be, as if Reginald had expanded the room’s interior to suit himself. The pocket dimension could be collapsed at a moment’s notice, destroying all the evidence. My heart sank. It was yet another reminder that Reginald commanded magics I didn’t have a hope of mastering.
Not yet , I told myself. I’ll just have to find a better teacher .
“You will go to Lucinda,” Reginald said. He smiled. I had the impression that he didn’t like Lucinda. “You will tell her that I have taken you as my personal maid. You can sleep in the servant’s bedroom next to mine and ...”
“I’d prefer to sleep downstairs,” I said, quickly. “I have to protect my reputation.”
“You’re my maid now,” Reginald said. He reached out and chucked my chin. There was no affection in the gesture. “You’ll sleep where I tell you to sleep.”
I met his gaze. “I would prefer to sleep downstairs.”
Reginald shrugged. “And have people ask why my personal maid isn’t sleeping in the bedroom she’s earned? This is a promotion, you know.”
The hell of it, I knew, was that he was right. From scullery maid to personal maid was a major jump. The personal maids were so far above the rest of the household staff that they hadn’t been forced to help serve food at the ball, although I supposed they’d spent their time helping their masters and mistresses to get dressed. No one would think any less of me for taking the bedroom. But I knew what they would think I’d done to get the job. Jill had told me that Reginald’s last personal maid hadn’t lasted more than two weeks.
Poor girl , I thought. My reputation was going to be in ruins. And yet, it did have an amusing side. An infiltrator and a slattern? I’ll never get another job with a record like that .
I kept my eyes on his. “I won’t share your bed,” I said, firmly. “I’ll brew your potion, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure your scheme succeeds, but I won’t share your bed.”
Reginald showed no visible reaction. “I don’t care if you share my bed or not,” he said, bluntly. “All I care about is completing the potion before I run out of time. If my father dies before the potion is ready ...”
I held up a hand. “How long does he have?”
“I don’t know,” Reginald said. “But once he dies, I will either be the heir or dead.”
“I’ll start going through the textbooks tomorrow morning,” I promised. I glanced at the clock. It was late afternoon. Lucinda was going to be furious. I cringed at the certain knowledge she’d think that Reginald and I had spent the afternoon in bed. “And if you insist, I will move into the servant’s bedroom tonight.”
Reginald took a step forward, his eyes bearing down on me. “If you complete the potion in time, I will be very grateful.” He sounded strikingly sincere. “Your career as my personal potioneer will know no bounds. You’ll have all the training and support you need to make a string of discoveries of your own. I will make sure of it personally.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” I said.
He really did sound sincere. If he hadn’t killed Master Travis ... I pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter. Reginald would be foolish to keep me alive once he had the potion and the recipe. Another brewer, one obliged to House Bolingbroke, would produce the next batch. My time was very limited. The only guarantee I had that my life would not come to a sudden end was the simple fact that Reginald was not - yet - in a position to find another brewer. He wouldn�
��t have needed to hire Master Travis - or recruit me, now - if he’d had someone he could trust to keep his mouth shut.
“You may go,” Reginald said, dismissively. “You can start work tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, My Lord,” I said.
I turned and hurried out of the room, feeling sweat trickling down my back. There was no way I could leave the hall now, not with the geas looking over my shoulder. There was no way I could seek help either. No one in the hall would be interested in helping me - I doubted the geas would even let me tell them what was wrong - and I couldn’t find help outside. Zadornov wouldn’t help me, if he could. He’d be more likely to blow the whistle from a safe distance when - if - he realised that Reginald’s potion was useless. There weren’t many people who’d have the need for it, let alone the nerve to actually drink it ...
I should have asked Reginald for money to pay the debt , I thought. That had been an oversight. Zadornov would at least get his five hundred golds, even if he didn’t get a new secret to share. Maybe he’d leave me in peace if he got his money back .
My mind raced. I knew what Reginald was doing now ... and yet, I couldn’t see any way to stop him. The geas wouldn’t let me betray him. I didn’t think it would let me do something that would accidentally reveal the chamber of horrors to the house’s wards. Even if it did, would it be enough? Or would Lord Anton choose to overlook it? I had no way to know.
And I have to satisfy the geas , I thought, grimly. Reginald had been very clever. He’d made sure I couldn’t simply flee Bolingbroke Hall, leaving him to be kicked out when his father actually died. I have to brew that wretched potion.
I stopped, dead. And then - an idea crossed my mind - I might just be able to spoil his little plan before it’s too late.
Chapter Thirty
“Well,” Lucinda purred . Her voice was lightly amused. “I wouldn’t have thought it of you .”
I said nothing. Lucinda had been furious when she’d seen me entering the kitchen and practically dragged me into her office. I’d had to endure nearly twenty minutes of being lectured on timing before I’d managed to tell her that I was now Reginald’s personal maid, with a bedroom of my own. Her face had paled so rapidly that I’d expected her to faint on the spot. It had taken longer than it should have for me to realise that she thought I’d deliberately baited a trap for her before lowering the boom. I wasn’t her subordinate any longer.
“The Young Master has always had a roving eye,” Lucinda babbled. She sounded younger, somehow. Young and off-balance. “I’m sure you will perform your duties” - a nasty look flickered across her eyes - “with all the professionalism I have come to expect from you.”
“Thank you, Miss Lucinda,” I said, gravely. It occurred to me that I could get her in trouble, simply by complaining to Reginald. Personal maids were expected to have their employer’s ear. “I’m sorry to have caused you such problems.”
“Aye, you’re sorry,” Lucinda said. Another unreadable emotion crossed her face. “I wish you good luck, Rebecca.”
I dropped a curtsey and hurried out of the office, feeling a flicker of pity. Lucinda really didn’t have an easy time of it, although I’d have felt sorrier for her if she hadn’t kept taking it out on her subordinates. It couldn’t be fun to know that you were expected to devote every waking moment to running the staff, all too aware that the slightest mistake - and embarrassment for the household - could result in immediate termination. Lucinda was every bit as dispensable as the scullery maids and she knew it.
Unless she knows too much to be discarded , I thought. I’d managed to learn a handful of embarrassing household secrets in a few weeks. How much did Lucinda know? I wouldn’t have cared to bet that she didn’t know enough to cause House Bolingbroke immense embarrassment. But would anyone listen to her?
I put the thought out of my mind as I hurried down to the bedroom and opened the door. It was, mercifully, empty. Lucinda had hired a couple of new girls and Jill and I had been having problems adjusting to their presence. They were old enough to work, but too young to share our conversations. And they’d grown up in the orphanage. They’d been lucky that Jill had stumbled across their stockpile of scavenged food before Lucinda had inspected the room. Lucinda would have been furious. She would have probably tossed them onto the streets without a second thought.
All for a handful of mouldy crusts , I thought. The young girls were so thin that I almost felt well of my stepfather. He’d never given me much to eat, but he’d never starved me. Who can blame them for hoarding food ?
I gathered my handful of clothes and dumped them into a bag, then retrieved my money pouch from where I’d concealed it. The potions vials clinked against the coins as I opened the pouch, counted my money and checked that the seals were still intact. There weren’t many vials left. I wondered, as I slipped the pouch into place under my dress, if Reginald would give me time to brew replacements. I had a feeling I was going to need more healing salve.
I can always ask his sister , I thought, dryly. She might be willing to let me use her supplies .
The door banged open. Jill hurried in, her eyes sweeping the room. “Is it true? Are you ...?”
I winced. Jill knew? Of course, Jill knew. Lucinda had probably told everyone by now. I cursed the older woman under my breath, even though I suspected she meant well. I was now ranked higher than any of the other maids, save for the ones who waited on the legitimate family. Jill could have gotten herself in real trouble if she’d been seen being friendly with me .
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m his personal maid.”
Jill’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. I understood all too well. Jill might have envied me if I’d been promoted to Lady Antonia’s personal maid - I couldn’t have blamed her for envying me, if I had - but Reginald? My promotion came at a steep cost. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I should worry about you,” Jill said. “Do you know what he’ll do to you?”
Put me to work brewing a potion so he can overthrow his family , I thought. I felt the geas tighten, warningly. It would freeze my tongue, perhaps even choke me, if I actually tried to tell Jill. I doubted there was any easy way to work around it. And afterwards he’ll try to kill me.
“I’ll be fine,” I repeated.
“No, you won’t ,” Jill said. Her eyes were very sharp. “Do you know what happens to personal maids? What they’re expected to do?”
“Yes,” I said. I’d seen personal maids walking around the hall. Some of them had looked down at Jill and I, as if they were aristocrats slumming it in Water Shallot, but others had looked like terrified mice. I’d seen that expression on too many faces back home. “But I won’t let that happen.”
Jill snorted, incredulously. “You’ll be alone with him. You’ll be at his mercy. And you say you won’t let that happen? He won’t give you the choice!”
She jabbed a finger at my chest. “You think you’re so innocent, don’t you? You said you were a virgin. And now ... he’ll ... he’ll ...”
I reached out and gave her a hug. “I’ll be fine,” I said, as reassuringly as possible. “Don’t worry about me.”
“He’ll use you, then discard you,” Jill said. She hugged me tightly. I could feel her tears soaking into my dress. “This isn’t a reward. It’s a punishment. His last maid ... the poor girl left within two weeks. She just ... fled , vanished into the night. She didn’t even tell the butler she was going!”
I winced, inwardly. Jill rarely had any time for the personal maids. She spoke of them in terms of utter contempt. What had Reginald done to his previous maid to make Jill , of all people, feel sorry for her? I didn’t want to know. Ginny had told me that I had to resign formally, if I wanted a character from House Bolingbroke. If Reginald’s maid had given up the chance to seek a better job elsewhere ... I shut that line of thought down hard. I really didn’t want to know.
Jill stepped back and studied me for a long moment. “
Rebecca ...”
I raised a hand. “I’ll be fine, really.”
The Alchemist's Apprentice Page 30