by C. J. Archer
"You would have to ask him."
He leaned over the counter and lowered his voice. "And can you extend another magician's magic?"
No matter how much I wanted to, I found I couldn't lie to him altogether. "It's a theory that only time can prove or disprove."
"India, Matt," said Catherine, joining us as her customer exited. "You do both look well. Particularly you, Matt."
He smiled. "I had a good night's sleep."
"And how is your family?" I asked before she or her father could question us further.
"Fine," Catherine said. "And your friends?"
"A little bored," Matt said. "You ought to visit. One in particular would like to see you."
Catherine flushed but fortunately her father didn't seem to notice as he wrapped up the new purchase.
I thought it a good time to steer Matt out of the shop before he created mischief. He seemed in that sort of mood. I chatted about the Masons and other safe topics until we reached the convent. Matt joined in and didn't attempt to turn the conversation into something more personal, for which I was grateful. Perhaps he wasn't ready yet either.
We spotted Gabriel Seaford as the coach slowed but did not hail him. He left the convent, his head bowed and pace slow.
"I'm glad he came," I said. "Sister Bernadette needed to see him. It's only fair she knows her actions achieved a good outcome."
"He looks contemplative," Matt said.
"A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours. It'll take time for it to sink in, particularly the importance of his magic."
"And what he did for me," he said quietly. "I hope he comes to terms with it in the next five years."
"Why?" I hedged.
"I may have need of his magic again, if my watch slows down as it did last time. Hopefully this one will last longer, since your magic is stronger than your grandfather's."
Five years suddenly seemed far too soon. I had never wanted my magic to be strong until now.
Sister Clare greeted us in the sitting room a few minutes later with an uncertain smile and a glance over her shoulder. "I spoke with Sister Bernadette after you left here yesterday," she whispered. "She told me what happened to the baby boys, and how Mother Alfreda…" She touched the cross hanging around her neck. "She has answered to God for her sins. That is all that can be said about her now."
I didn't ask if she believed in magic, and she didn't offer an opinion.
"You look well, Mr. Glass," she added.
"I feel well," he said. "Better than I have in a long time. Will you give this letter to your mother superior, please? You may read it. It's a promise of a donation. My lawyer will contact you with the details."
She read the letter and gasped. "Thank you. It will help enormously."
"I'll send my friends around to assist Sister Bernadette with any repairs she can't do on her own. They're bored at home and getting under my feet, so I'd be grateful if she obliged."
She beamed. "Thank you. She will be pleased to hear it. She works so hard and her back pains her, these days. Why don't you tell her yourself? She's in the meeting room."
We knew where the meeting room was located. It was the room where the cross had fallen off the wall and almost hit me. We found Sister Bernadette standing before the cross that had been re-mounted back on the wall. She was deep in contemplation and didn't hear us enter. We waited until she crossed herself then turned away.
"Sorry to interrupt," Matt said. "We wanted to see how you were."
She smiled and extended her hands to us in greeting. "I'm well, as I see you are, Mr. Glass. You look much better."
"I saw an excellent doctor yesterday."
"So he told me. He was just here. What a remarkable young man he turned out to be. Mr. and Mrs. Seaford must be very proud."
"As you should be," I said, clasping her hand.
She nodded and blinked back tears.
"I see the cross is back where it belongs," Matt said, nodding at the crucifix. "I hope it stays there this time."
"As do I," she said. "I put in extra supports. Gabe—Dr. Seaford—helped me."
I wasn't sure that extra supports would stop it falling again if she used her magic to move it. There was no need to tell her that, however. She knew the power of her magic now and would be more careful.
"You come from a long line of carpenters, don't you?" I asked.
"On both sides of my family." She picked up her toolbox and walked with us back to our carriage.
Matt told her he'd send Duke and Cyclops to help her, and perhaps Willie too. "They need something to do," he said.
"And what will you do now, Mr. Glass?" she asked.
"I have an important matter to attend to."
"Ah, yes, you men of business are always busy."
"It's not a business matter, it's personal. Very personal."
With that pronouncement hanging in the air between us, I expected Matt to raise the issue on the way home, but he did not. Indeed, he had the coachman leave him at the top of Oxford Street and take me back to Park Street alone.
Detective Inspector Brockwell had made himself at home in the drawing room, presided over by Miss Glass. He contemplated a cup of tea in one hand and a plate with cake on the other, as if he couldn't decide which to consume first. He stood when he saw me and greeted me with a slight stutter. Was he nervous? About me? Perhaps he thought I'd use my magic to fling the clock at him.
"The inspector has just been telling me that the nasty fellow who calls himself a sheriff will go before a judge soon," Miss Glass said.
"It won't take long," Brockwell said, once again using a precise clipped manner of speaking. Now that I know he stuttered, I wondered if he spoke with such control to suppress it. "With so many witnesses of impeccable reputation," he went on, "the defense has no case."
"I'm glad to hear it," I said. "Is there any way to keep the element of, er, fantasy out of the proceedings?"
"I'm not sure that's wise. Hear me out, Miss Steele," he said when I began to protest. "Since I suspect Payne will mention magic as his motivation for the kidnap, purely to cause you difficulty, why not go along with it? Then it can be presented as fact that the magic didn't work."
"But it did. Matt's living proof."
"That part will be denied. We can say he was never ill to begin with, or merely had a fever that he overcame with bed rest. I'm sure Dr. Seaford will agree to such a diagnosis. What we can present is the fact that Payne tried to get the magic watch to work on an ill man, and it failed. I have some men searching for the poor fellow now, or witnesses who may have seen Payne attempt to cure him with the watch. Evidence of the experiment's failure will end rumor and speculation about medical magic once and for all."
"I suppose it's the only course open to us," I said. "As you say, Payne will mention it. It won't set him free, but he'll use it as a last ditch effort to cause Matt problems."
"I will be glad when he hangs," Miss Glass said, peering innocently at me over her teacup rim.
"It will cause a sensation, naturally," Brockwell said. "But acknowledging medical magic then refuting its power will dampen the enthusiasm The Weekly Gazette has drummed up. It's my belief that the public's enthusiasm must be dampened, for your sake—and Dr. Seaford's."
"I agree," I said. "You'll have our support in court."
He set down the teacup and considered the cake from all angles before biting off the corner. He took delight in eating it and did not speak again until he'd finished.
"I almost forgot to mention, in all the excitement," he said, not sounding the least excited. "Eddie Hardacre, otherwise known as Jack Sweet, changed his plea to guilty, so you won't be required to appear in court for his case."
I blew out a breath. "That is a relief."
"Excellent," Miss Glass said. "Perhaps now it will be easier for you to get your shop back, India."
"My grandfather's shop. But yes, I hope so."
"I must go," Brockwell said, rising. "Tell Mr. Glass I'm
sorry I missed him."
I walked him to the front door where Bristow handed him his umbrella.
"I know you and I have not always found one another agreeable," I said to the inspector, "but I want you to know that I appreciate your honesty and determination to get to the truth."
His face fell. "I can assure you, Miss Steele, I have always thought you agreeable. Just because we do not see eye to eye on every matter doesn't make us enemies. Indeed, I found our conversations stimulating."
Then he was a better person than me.
"It hasn't been easy for you, bearing the burden of your secret and worrying about Mr. Glass's health," he went on. "He is your employer, is he not?"
"He is."
"Good. Good." He placed his hat on his head and gave me a curt bow. "I look forward to the next time we meet, Miss Steele."
It wasn't until he was gone that I wondered if his curious little smile had meant something more than simple politeness. "Why do you think he was pleased that Mr. Glass is my employer, Bristow?"
"I would not want to speculate, miss. But I'll be sure to tell Mr. Glass that the inspector made a particular point of asking."
* * *
Matt arrived home a little while later bearing gifts and a somber mood. He handed out the gifts to each of us in turn, and then disappeared to deliver some to the servants before we could thank him.
"Matthew, my sweet boy, come here," his aunt said when he returned. "Thank you for the tickets and necklace. I do love the opera, and now I will have something to wear with my favorite evening dress. You will attend with me, won't you?"
"Of course," he said. "That's why there are three tickets. India and I will both go with you. I doubted the others would want to attend."
"You know me well," Willie said, holding up her gift of a new leather gun holster. I didn't think it wise to encourage her to carry her weapon, but didn't say.
He'd bought Cyclops a new hat and a Baedeker's travel guide to northern France, since it was "easy to get to from London."
"You trying to get rid of me?" Cyclops asked.
"No, but I thought you might want to travel while you're in this part of the world. If I wanted to get rid of you, I would have purchase two one-way boat tickets."
Cyclops narrowed his good eye at Matt. "Two?"
Matt simply smiled.
He'd also bought Duke a set of pencils and a sketchbook since he used to enjoy drawing back in America. Matt even bought Chronos a gift, but he was nowhere to be seen. According to Bristow, he'd left while we were out after sleeping the night in the guest room.
My gift was a gold pocket watch with a moon face and chronometer. It would have cost a considerable amount. "I returned to Mason’s after I left you," Matt told me. "According to him, it's the finest piece he has ever made." He arched his brows. "Is it?"
"It's beautiful," I said, inspecting the back. "And I'm sure it keeps perfect time and uses only the highest quality parts. Mr. Mason is an excellent craftsman."
"Good, because I didn't want to give my custom to Abercrombie, but if you told me his watches are better—"
"They certainly aren't. He only has a reputation thanks to the patronage of princes, back in his father's day. If those princes had ever visited Mr. Mason, they would have purchased his watches instead." I rubbed my thumb over the smooth gold. "It's far too good for everyday use."
"I want you to use it every day," he said quietly. "I want you to think of me every time you look at it. I know it will never replace the one your parents gave you, but I hope it will become special."
"Thank you, Matt. I'll treasure it."
He watched me with that intense stare of his, as if he were trying to learn something from me without asking a direct question. It was both unsettling and yet sent a thrill through me.
"What is it?" I asked carefully, unsure I wanted to know the answer.
"Something has changed," he said quietly. "I can see it in your eyes, the way you look at me now. Do I have reason to hope?"
I clutched the watch tightly in my fist. "If you ask…I won't say no."
His smile began as a small tug of his lips then it widened, but only briefly before disappearing. He sighed heavily. "I am not in a position to ask. Yet."
"Because you're supposed to be marrying Patience?"
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and could no longer look at me. "I'll find a way out. A way that won't hurt Patience. I just need time."
"What are you two whispering about?" Miss Glass demanded. "I need to know."
"The weather, Aunt," Matt said with an attempt at cheerfulness that didn't ring true. "Just the weather."
Her lips flattened. She didn't believe him but she wouldn't challenge him.
"You English call this spring?" Duke said with a nod at the window. "It's raining again."
Bristow entered, carrying the mail. It included another invitation for me to dine with Lord Coyle.
"This time he has included you, Matt," I said, showing him.
He set aside his own mail to read it. "Perhaps he thought your previous refusal was because you didn't want to attend alone."
"Will you accept?" Cyclops asked.
Matt handed the invitation back to me without making a suggestion either way. He was allowing me to make a choice without interference. While I appreciated it, I would have liked his opinion. I was torn between my desire to leave magic well alone and being proud of my skill with timepieces.
"He probably just wants me to donate a watch to his collection," I said. "And perhaps ask me questions about my magic. Not all of which I will answer, of course," I added to reassure Matt who did not look entirely pleased with my response.
"Then we'll see what he wants," he said.
Willie suddenly crumpled the letter she'd received and raced from the room. Duke rose to go after her but thought better of it.
"Will you go, India?" he said. "She won't talk to me, but she might to you."
I hurried after Willie and found her lying face down on her bed, sobbing into the pillow. She quieted a little when I sat beside her but didn't acknowledge me for several minutes. I didn't speak either, just let her have a good cry.
Eventually she mumbled, "What do you want?" into the pillow.
"I want to see if you're all right."
"Well I'm not. I'm damned miserable. Go away."
"Was the letter from your nurse friend?"
She sniffed. "I said go away."
"I'm not going away, so you might as well answer me. A problem shared is a problem halved, as they say."
"You English have got a stupid saying for everything."
"Oh really? Even more stupid than 'beat the devil around the stump'? I heard Cyclops say that to Matt once, and I still don't know what it means. Or 'nailed to the counter'. I do know what 'hot as a whorehouse on nickel night' implies, but it hardly requires an active imagination."
She rolled over and wiped her sleeve across her red, swollen nose. "I sent her one final letter saying I'd never bother her again if that's what she wanted." She uncurled her hand and showed me the ball of paper. "She wrote that it's what she wants."
"Oh, Willie. I am sorry."
Her lower lip wobbled and I drew her into a hug. She cried against my shoulder.
* * *
I left Willie when her tears dried and went in search of Matt. We hadn't been able to say much to one another with the others around earlier, and I wanted to make it clear how I felt. I also simply wanted to be with him, alone.
I heard his voice coming from the drawing room and went to see who he was having a quiet conversation with. I paused outside the door when I heard Patience speaking.
"Don't try to deny it," she said with more vehemence than she'd ever used in conversations with us before. "I know my father is forcing this marriage on you."
I ought to leave but I could not. I wanted to hear their conversation very much. I would deal with my guilt over my eavesdropping later. For now, I stepped closer.
"I know you are in love with India," Patience added.
"I am."
My heart rose to my throat.
"And that she is in love with you."
Matt took a long moment before he answered. "Do you wish to be free?"
"I…I want to be married."
Did she mean that she didn't care whom she wed? That any man would do, and since Matt was on offer, she'd take him? I suddenly felt unbalanced and leaned against the wall near the door for support.
"I cannot refuse you, Matt, even though I know you don't love me," Patience said. "My parents have seen to that. My sisters will suffer if I do not agree to this union."
"Then you should agree to it. Don't give them any cause to be angry with you."
She sighed heavily. Clearly she was finding the conversation perplexing. I wished Matt would tell her what he'd told me—that he would find a way out, somehow.
Perhaps he didn't tell her because he knew he wouldn't find a way. My stomach rolled at the thought.
"I know there will be consequences if you fail to follow through with the wedding," Patience said. "Although I am not entirely sure what those consequences are."
There was a long pause and I wished I could see Matt's face, to try to understand his thoughts and emotions.
"Please say something," she added, sounding tearful. "I feel awful about this. It's not what I wanted but…but for my own selfish reasons, I will go through with it. I want to be free, you see, I want to get away from my parents and my sisters. I'm so sick of being teased and told how ugly I am, how pathetic and dull. And…and I know you will be kind to me, Matt, and I have decided that marrying a kind man who doesn't love me is better than living the rest of my life as a spinster under my parents' influence."