The Cheater's Game: Glass and Steele, #7
Page 26
Man and wife. Not long ago, I thought I'd never use that phrase to refer to myself. Now, I couldn't imagine never having met Matt. How empty my life would have been, how dull, like a black and white sketch compared to a vibrant painting. There was no comparison, and a life without Matt didn't bear thinking about.
We didn't leave one another's side as our friends and family offered us congratulations. Our fingers wound together, entwined in a knot that neither of us cared to untangle. Not yet.
Even passing strangers stopped to congratulate us and, just as we were about to climb into our carriage, one unwelcome party burst onto the scene, his equine nose in the air.
Cyclops and Duke saw Abercrombie first and tried to stop him. They managed to keep him back but his voice traveled.
"You cheated, Ronald Mason! I know you did, and I know Miss Steele helped you."
Ronnie crossed his arms. "How could I have cheated?"
"What's all this about?" Mr. Mason asked. He went to approach Abercrombie, but his wife grasped his arm.
"Your son is a cheat!" Abercrombie wailed. I couldn't even see him with Duke and Cyclops blocking my view. "She helped him. That witch did his test for him!"
Matt tensed and stepped forward.
"Wait," I whispered, watching Mr. Mason. Like all good fathers, he looked indignant that his son's reputation had been called into question. His wife clung to his arm and spoke quietly to him, but he still held himself rigidly, his fists closed at his sides. I'd never seen the rather bland man look so furious.
"Do you have proof?" Mr. Mason barked.
Abercrombie stepped into sight, adjusting his tie, but Cyclops and Duke remained within arm's length. "No one could have passed that test except a magician. That's all the proof I need."
Mrs. Mason and Miss Glass gasped. Mr. Mason cocked his head to the side, frowning. "Why could only a magician pass it?" he demanded.
"I, er…that's not what I meant."
"I never left that room, sir," Ronnie said. "I ask again, how could I have cheated?"
Abercrombie stabbed a finger in my direction "She must have given you the answers."
"Why couldn't he have simply passed on his own?" Catherine asked, blinking innocently at Abercrombie.
"Yes," Mr. Mason added. "You were about to tell us why only a magician could pass. Did you cheat, Abercrombie? Did you give my son an impossible test so he'd fail?"
Abercrombie's jaw worked, and a hiss of air wheezed from his nose. "Of course not!" he spluttered. "The test was difficult but not impossible. I merely question your son's ability. He's not intelligent enough to pass."
Ronnie merely laughed, but his parents' faces darkened. Mr. Mason's knuckles whitened. But it was Mrs. Mason who exploded. "If either of you lack brains, sir, it's you," she spat. "You've presented yourself at a function where you are not invited, and you have admitted to manipulating the test."
"What?" Abercrombie said. "No!"
"It seems you have failed. You've all but said that our son passed. He's now a full member of the Watchmaker's Guild. Tomorrow, he and our Catherine will re-open Steele's shop. And we couldn't be prouder."
If Mr. Mason was still reluctant to let Ronnie and Catherine set up shop together, he didn't show it, and nor would he now. There was nothing like a common enemy to bring people closer together.
"I will see that they're blocked at every turn," Abercrombie said through gritted teeth. "A friend to Miss Steele cannot be granted a license."
"Who will stop them?" Mr. Mason asked. "Not you. You have admitted to making our Ronnie's test more difficult than usual. You have admitted to trying to block his application at every turn. You are dishonorable and have none of the qualities I want in my guild's master. I'm going to see that an extraordinary meeting is called for next week to elect a new leader."
Abercrombie scoffed, but he didn't look quite so cocksure. The glare he turned on me still managed to shred my nerves, however. "I know you helped him, Miss Steele. I know it."
"It's time to move on now, sir," Detective Inspector Brockwell said.
Matt broke away and stormed up to Abercrombie. I couldn't see his face but it must have been fierce, because Abercrombie paled. He backed up, almost tripping over his own feet, before turning and hurrying off.
"It's Mrs. Glass now!" I called after him. "Please try to remember in future."
I enveloped Matt's hand between both of mine and watched Abercrombie until he disappeared around the corner. Finally, I stopped shaking.
Matt circled me in his arms. "Are you all right, Mrs. Glass?"
"I am. Let's go home and enjoy Mrs. Potter's fine cooking with our family and friends. I think we deserve it for a job well done." I nodded at Ronnie as his father patted him on the back.
Beside him, Catherine sported a tentative smile, but it wasn't directed at her brother. It was directed at Cyclops. He, however, pretended not to notice, but if his shuffling feet were an indication, he could certainly sense her attention.
The wedding feast was a marvelous affair with a delicious array of meats, seafood, salads, vegetables, cakes, jellies, ices and confections that necessitated the loosening of my corset laces. We managed to all fit in the dining room, although it was tight, and I was glad to move into the drawing room with just the women when the men removed themselves to the smoking room.
Willie looked uncertain of which way to go, and it was only because Miss Glass scooped her arm through Willie's and hauled her toward the drawing room that she ended up with us. We were not left alone for long, though. The gentlemen returned with an announcement.
"The photographer is here," Duke said.
"We're having our photograph taken?" I asked. "I don't recall organizing that."
"You didn't," Willie said. "We did. It's our gift to you. Come on, gather 'round."
We had to move into the entrance hall to allow space for everyone. I sat on a chair while Matt stood by my side. Our guests arranged themselves on the steps behind us, with Miss Glass closest to Matt. She wouldn't stay there, however, and while the photographer set up his equipment, she made a great fuss over my dress, settling the long silk train where it could be seen.
"You must try not to embrace everyone so much, India. You're crushing the skirt."
I looked down at the white satin skirt. It was indeed a little crushed. The bodice, however, was still in excellent condition, with its intricate lacework and glass beading creating a dense pattern of leaves and flowers. I hugged her as she went to move away.
"Thank you, Miss Glass," I murmured.
"It's quite appropriate for you to call me Aunt Letitia now," she said, hugging me back.
"Letty, sit down," Willie said. "The photographer's ready."
"But not Aunt Letty," Miss Glass added.
Matt and I had a photograph with all the guests, then another with just Aunt Letitia, and finally alone. I was exhausted by the end of the day and ready to farewell our guests. Mr. and Mrs. Mason and Gabe left mid-afternoon, but the rest lingered, including all of the Mason siblings. Ronnie was in good spirits, having attained his guild membership, and his brothers seemed determined to celebrate with him. Their sister didn't look quite so happy. The one time I saw her trying to engage Cyclops in conversation, he hardly even looked at her, let alone addressed her. She finally gave up and went home, leaving her brothers behind.
"That wasn't fair," I said to Cyclops. "You ought to give her a chance. You should give yourselves a chance."
"Don't lecture me today, India," he said and walked off.
I caught Matt's eye as he stood by the fireplace in the drawing room. He arched a brow. I shrugged. He jerked his head toward the door and winked. I smiled and rose to join him, only to be accosted by Chronos. I sat again with a sigh.
"Now that the wedding is over," he began, "have you decided—"
"I told you I'd decide after the honeymoon," I said hotly.
"I was only going to ask if you've decided to stay on in London or move to the countrysi
de."
"Oh." I hadn't thought about moving. London was such a part of me that I wasn't sure I could live anywhere else. Although I did like the countryside with the fresh air and green as far as the eye could see. "We'll decide on that after the honeymoon too," I said.
"It's time to start thinking of the future."
"One step at a time, Chronos."
He looked to Matt. "You found a good one there. I like him."
"Even though he's artless?"
He closed his hand over mine. "It's a pity your children's powers will be diluted, but not even I'm selfish enough to want you to give up a rich and titled gentleman for magic."
"Thank you. But you do know I'm not marrying him for his money or his title, don't you?"
"Of course." His gaze wandered around the room, growing sadder by the second. "My wedding day was nothing like this. This is full of joy. Mine resembled a funeral. I saw your grandmother sobbing into her mother's apron in the kitchen." His grip tightened. "We weren't suited to one another, and if she were here, she'd agree. We weren't given a choice, though. We married because our families wanted to keep the magical lineage strong. They succeeded, but at what cost? Your grandmother and I grew to hate each other, and your father… What did our hate do to him? Maybe it forced him to hide his magic from the world. It definitely put a wedge between us, one neither of us knew how to repair. My only regret is not getting to know him better. But I can make up for that now, with you."
I hugged him. I was too full of tears to tell him what I wanted to tell him—that he surprised me sometimes, and that I loved him, despite everything.
He patted my shoulder. "You can still be happy with Glass and help Charbonneau at the same time. You can have both, India."
And sometimes he could ruin a wonderful moment with a few ill-chosen words.
"I knew you'd bring him into the conversation somehow." I kissed his forehead and rose. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to my husband now. I've hardly spoken to him all day."
I joined Matt by the fireplace. It was another full hour before our guests left, and another hour still before Cyclops, Duke, Willie and Miss Glass—Aunt Letitia—all decamped to Brown's Hotel for the evening.
Mrs. Bristow had left a bowl of strawberries in Matt's bedroom—our bedroom—with a bottle of wine. I didn't notice them until the following morning.
"Hungry?" I asked, offering Matt the bowl at breakfast time. He lay sprawled on the bed, entirely naked, the sheets rumpled near his feet. He looked sleepy, sated, and more delicious than the strawberries. I set the bowl down before I dropped it. "Me either."
I joined him on the bed and snuggled into his side. My hair fell across his chest and my skin warmed at his touch. His hand skimmed over my thigh, my hip and dipped at my waist, finally settling over my breast. Heat banked in his eyes.
"I love seeing you like this," he murmured. "I love touching you, being with you. I love that you give yourself to me freely. I love you, India." He kissed me with renewed passion, proving that he wasn't entirely sated yet.
"It's seems I'm hungry, after all, but not for strawberries," I said as his kisses moved to my cheek, my jaw, the hollow of my throat. I moaned and arched into him.
I felt him smile against the swell of my breast. "I would never have guessed that behind the prim and proper façade lay a tigress."
"You mistake my intentions, sir." I caressed the contours of his muscular chest, stroked the light dusting of hair across his flat stomach, and continued down, down. "I merely want to inspect the scar again."
His breath hitched. "Inspect away."
The ragged scar on his upper thigh had been the result of a bullet shot by his own grandfather. It had almost killed Matt. If it hadn't been for Dr. Parsons and Chronos, he would have bled to death. If it hadn't been for magic, he would not be lying there, as healthy as any thirty year old. The scar itself looked ugly, and it had been caused by a cruel man, but I couldn't hate it. For one thing, it was a part of Matt, and for another, we would never have met without it.
I traced my finger around the scar's rough edges only to pause as warmth spread across my fingertip. Not ordinary body heat but magical warmth. Even after all these years, Dr. Parsons' magic was strong enough to be felt by me.
Matt touched my hair, stroking it off my forehead. "What is it?" he murmured. "What are you thinking about?"
"Magic."
He touched my chin, and I peered up to see him better. His hooded eyes watched me as intently as the first time we'd met. With his disheveled hair and a lazy tilt to his lips, he was an intoxicating combination of devil and hero. The effect sent a rush of heat through me that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with basic nature.
"You have much to think about," he said quietly. "Charbonneau's request, your own power…"
"Yes." I climbed on top of him and leaned down to kiss him. "But not today. Today I want to enjoy being Mrs. Matthew Glass."
He grasped me around the waist and flipped me onto my back, reversing our positions. "Then allow me to introduce you to another benefit that comes with the title."
I giggled as he kissed me from head to toe. Then I was no longer giggling as he paused at my hips and did indeed show me one more benefit to being his wife.
* * *
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Buffalo Bill's Wild West show really did visit London with Annie Oakley, but not in 1890 as I have depicted here. I hope you'll forgive a little artistic license with the smudging of timelines.
Coming Soon:
THE PRISONER'S KEY
The 8th Glass and Steele novel
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I hope you enjoyed reading THE CHEATER’S GAME as much as I enjoyed writing it. As an independent author, getting the word out about my book is vital to its success, so if you liked this book please consider telling your friends and writing a review at the store where you purchased it. If you would like to be contacted when I release a new book, subscribe to my newsletter at http://cjarcher.com/contact-cj/newsletter/. You will only be contacted when I have a new book out.
Also by C.J. Archer
SERIES WITH 2 OR MORE BOOKS
After The Rift
Glass and Steele
The Ministry of Curiosities Series
The Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy
The 1st Freak House Trilogy
The 2nd Freak House Trilogy
The 3rd Freak House Trilogy
The Assassins Guild Series
Lord Hawkesbury's Players Series
The Witchblade Chronicles
SINGLE TITLES NOT IN A SERIES
Courting His Countess
Surrender
Redemption
The Mercenary's Price
About the Author
C.J. Archer has loved history and books for as long as she can remember and feels fortunate that she found a way to combine the two. She spent her early childhood in the dramatic beauty of outback Queensland, Australia, but now lives in suburban Melbourne with her husband, two children and a mischievous black & white cat named Coco.
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