The Mapmaker's Apprentice (Glass and Steele Book 2)

by C. J. Archer

  "You want to find him just as much as we do," Matt said. "If we work together—"

  "I work alone."

  "We don't want your coin hoard, Mr. McArdle," I said.

  He blinked at me. Was he surprised that we knew that much?

  "We just want to find Daniel."

  "So do I," he growled. "But I'll find him on my own. I'm not sharing with anyone. Now, give me the coin or I'll take it."

  Matt put up his hands in surrender. "We know it's a magical map," he said taking a slow step down.

  McArdle's gaze darted to the five steps between them. He licked his top lip. "I don't know what you mean," he said, not sounding in the least convincing.

  "Does it show the location of the magical coin hoard?"

  McArdle's nostrils flared.

  Matt took another slow step forward. He'd better be prepared to fight because McArdle didn't back away. He looked determined to get his coin. "We know Daniel is a magical mapmaker," Matt went on when he didn't get an answer, "just like we know you're a goldsmith magician—"

  McArdle flipped back his jacket and drew a small pistol from his trouser waistband. "I warned you. Give me my coin. Now!" He used his jacket to shield the pistol, which he pointed at me.

  "Don't shoot." Matt put up a hand to halt Bryce as much as McArdle. The coachman had risen from his perch. "India will give it to you."

  I reached into the reticule and fished for the coin. I held it out to McArdle but he had to come closer to take it.

  "Bring it to me, Miss Steele," he said.

  "No." Matt put out his hand. "I'll take it to you."

  "She will."

  The muscles in Matt's jaw pulsed. I stepped past him and handed McArdle the coin. He backed down to the bottom step.

  I rejoined Matt. His hand closed around mine, anchoring me to his side and a little behind him. "Damn it, man," he growled at the retreating figure. "We can find Daniel together if you tell me what you know."

  "I don't know anything, that's the whole bloody problem. And nor, I wager, do you." He held up the coin. The gold glinted in the sunshine. "At least I can begin again now." He pocketed the coin and slipped the gun back down his trouser band. He turned and ran.

  A moment later, he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Matt stalked down the steps, shook his head, then returned to me.

  "Are you all right, India?"

  I felt remarkably calm, considering I'd just had a gun pointed at me. Perhaps that was because I didn't think McArdle was a killer. Avaricious, yes, but not a murderer.

  Matt, however, looked furious. It must gall him that he'd not been able to stop McArdle from drawing his weapon. Or perhaps he hated losing the coin.

  "I'm fine, Matt. Really. There's no need to worry."

  He let me go and indicated the front door with a nod. "Would you like to go back inside?"

  "Certainly not. I'm hardly going to wilt after a little danger."

  "I wouldn't call it little. But if you insist."

  "I do."

  "Then we'll continue to the guild, right after I tell Bristow not to allow McArdle into the house."

  "Our list of banned people is growing at a rapid rate."

  He rejoined me in the carriage a moment later, looking like he regretted not punching McArdle when he had the chance. "At least we still have the map," I said, trying to reassure him.

  "It may not have been the right thing to keep it from him. We can't use it, but he possibly can."

  "But will he use it to find Daniel? It's more likely he would have run off with it, like he did the coin, leaving us with nothing."

  His face lifted a little. "You always know the right thing to say."

  "Not always. For example, telling you that McArdle doesn't seem to know where Daniel is won't make you feel any better."

  "It doesn't make me feel worse." He sighed. "If McArdle doesn't know, that puts us back where we began, less one suspect, of course."

  "Speaking of beginnings, what do you think McArdle meant when he said he can begin again now?"

  He shrugged. "He can get another map made, perhaps."

  "Using the coin?"

  "Quite possibly. It would explain why he wanted it so badly. The coin itself may have some value if he could remove the shank, but if it led him to the rest of the hoard, it would be priceless."

  The guild's footman informed us that Mr. Onslow was in a meeting, as we knew he would. What we didn't expect was the presence of Mr. Duffield and Ronald Hogarth, his apprentice.

  "Mr. Prescott," Mr. Duffield said, shaking hands with Matt. "And Mrs. Prescott, too. How intriguing to find you both here."

  Matt didn't so much as hesitate in his greeting, nor did he let on in any way that Duffield's presence had scuttled his plans. Yet I knew everything needed to change now. There would be no sneaking about while Duffield remained.

  "How pleasant to see you here," Matt said. "And quite unexpected. Are you on your way out?"

  "Soon. This is my new apprentice, Hogarth."

  The youth stepped forward. "We've met. Nice to see you again, sir, ma'am. Is it Mr. Onslow you're here for?"

  "Yes, but apparently he's in a meeting."

  "Is there something I can help you with?" Mr. Duffield asked. "Is it something to do with the guild, or maps?"

  "Mr. Duffield's an excellent mapmaker," Hogarth said, swelling his chest. "Much better than Mr. Onslow."

  "Thank you, Ronald," Mr. Duffield said tightly. "Perhaps if you could go ahead of me back to the shop. I'll speak with Mr. Prescott and return soon."

  "It's quite all right if you need to go," Matt said. "I'll admire your excellent globe as I wait for Onslow." He indicated the impressive bronze globe held up by the statue of the old man.

  "Perhaps you'll be more comfortable in the sitting room. I'll join you until Mr. Onslow is free."

  "It's quite all right."

  "I insist. Ronald, ask someone to bring in tea on your way out."

  The apprentice looked as if he'd protest, but must have thought better of it. He gave a curt nod to us and left.

  Duffield blew out a breath and indicated the door leading to the sitting room. "This way. Refreshments will be served shortly."

  Clearly he didn't want us waiting alone. Surely he didn't suspect our true reason for being there? As far as he knew, we were Mr. and Mrs. Prescott, adventurers on our way to India. I hoped.

  "Now, tell me," he said, as we sat. "Is it another map you're after? From Onslow?"

  Matt nodded. "We didn't know the location of his shop, so we came here instead."

  "Well." Duffield glanced at the door then leaned in toward us. "I don't wish to speak ill of my colleague, but my maps have won awards." He indicated the walls where framed maps of all sizes and colors filled the spaces. "Many of these are mine. Few are his."

  "I'm familiar with your work," Matt said with an agreeable smile. "I was simply curious to see that of another. Do you know how long Mr. Onslow will be?"

  "It could be an age."

  "Why? Is he meeting with the queen's agent?" Matt laughed.

  Duffield laughed too. "No one like that, I'm sure. I would recognize anyone important."

  So he didn't know who Onslow was meeting, and nor did it look like he was going anywhere. I tried to catch Matt's attention but he wasn't looking at me.

  "Mr. Duffield," I said, "can you point me in the direction of the ladies' cloak room?"

  Matt turned slowly to me. He glared at me through narrowed eyes. He'd guessed what I was about to do and didn't like it.

  "Er, uh, yes, of course. It's up one flight and to the right."

  I hurried out of the sitting room before I changed my mind, or Matt could suggest we leave. I didn't want to leave. I wanted answers and to have something to show for our visit. As Matt said, gentlemen believed ladies, mostly. If someone stumbled upon me, I'd pretend to be lost.

  I traversed the corridor on the first floor, listening at closed doors for voices. Greeted with silence, I
returned to the staircase. Footsteps approached, like someone taking two steps at a time. I held my breath, smoothed down my skirts and prepared my excuse.

  I let out my breath upon seeing Cyclops, dressed in his footman's livery.

  "There you are," he whispered, sounding as relieved as I felt. "I delivered tea and saw you weren't with Matt. He indicated I should help you."

  "How did he do that?"

  "He twitched an eyebrow. Come with me. I know where Onslow is."

  We headed up to the next level and crept quietly to a closed door. He pressed his ear to it, so I did too. I could make out male voices, but not what they said. I needed to get closer.

  I grasped the doorknob, but Cyclops caught my hand. He shook his head. I nodded and plucked his hand off mine. He flattened his lips and stepped away.

  I opened the door as quietly as possible and caught Onslow saying, "I can get more."

  "How?" asked the other man who must be Hallam. "Do you know the maker?"

  Onslow didn't answer. "Is someone there?

  I opened the door fully and gasped. "Oh, I am sorry. Please forgive me, gentlemen, I was looking for…" I touched my cheek, wishing I could blush on cue. "I'll be on my way."

  "Mrs. Prescott, isn't it?" Onslow came around the desk, staring at me as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "I remember you. What are you doing here?"

  "My husband and I came to see you, but Mr. Duffield said you were in a meeting. I felt a little faint and came looking for the cloak room. It would seem I haven't found it."

  "It's down a level."

  "Thank you. I am very sorry to interrupt." I touched my temple and winced.

  "Are you all right?"

  "I think I need to sit down. But I don't want to intrude."

  Hallam stood and buttoned up his jacket. "I was just leaving anyway. Our business is concluded." The slender, bespectacled man gave Onslow a nod.

  Onslow nodded back then took my arm and steered me to the chair Hallam had vacated. The blue ledger that he usually held close to his chest lay open on the desk. "Water, Mrs. Prescott?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  He poured me a glass from the jug on the bookshelf. I took it but my shaking hand caused some water to spill. It wasn't all an act. I felt quite nervous, alone with a suspect. Cyclops had disappeared.

  "Did you say Duffield is with your husband?" Onslow asked.

  "Yes," I said, faintly. "They're in the sitting room. Mr. Duffield is trying to convince Mr. Prescott that he's the better mapmaker."

  The inner corner of Onslow's drooping eyelid twitched. "I'll fetch your husband for you, madam. In the meantime, rest here." He looked to the ledger on the other side of the desk.

  I whimpered loudly and drooped into the chair, doing my best impression of an attack of the vapors.

  "Mrs. Prescott!" He took my hand and patted it. "Are you all right?"

  "Hurry," I whispered.

  He ran out of the office. As soon as he was gone, I rounded the desk and scanned the ledger page. It was an account book, filled with figures that meant nothing to me. Damn. Surely there had to be something useful somewhere in it. I flipped through the pages, but it seemed to be only a list of expenses and receipts. None of the expenses seemed unusual for a guild, and all the receipts appeared to be listed as DUES with a member's name beside them.

  "Found anything?"

  I almost jumped out of my skin, even though I recognized Cyclops's voice. He popped his head around the door, his one good eye gleaming. He was enjoying this adventure.

  "Not yet."

  "I'll tap on the wall when someone approaches." He disappeared again.

  I tracked my finger down the list of names in the Receipts column, smudging the final one. The ink was fresh. Lord Coyle, the name read, not Mr. Hallam. The amount of fifteen pounds written against the name was also fresh. I scanned the other entries, going backward through the ledger. There were two others against Lord Coyle's name, one for twenty pounds, the other for another payment of fifteen. Could Hallam be the man of business for Lord Coyle?

  I returned the ledger to the precise position on the desk as I'd found it, and quickly looked through the pile of papers. Nothing. I opened the first drawer and smiled. A wad of bank notes sat on the top, tied together with string. I counted out fifteen pounds. Onslow hadn't had a chance to put them in a safer place yet.

  I returned the money to the drawer just as Cyclops tapped the wall. I had ample time to return to my chair and resume the role of fainting female.

  "My dear," Matt said upon entering. "Are you all right? Mr. Onslow said you had a turn." He crouched by my chair and took my hands in his. His gaze was completely without guile and filled with deep concern.

  "I…I felt quite overcome," I said weakly.

  "I've sent the footman to fetch a cool cloth," said Mr. Duffield, standing behind Matt.

  Mr. Onslow slipped past them both and opened his top drawer. He reached in and a moment later, closed the drawer again. Relief made him smile. He must have regretted his hasty exit, leaving me with his money.

  "Thank you," I said, "but I feel a little better. Mr. Prescott, is it all right if we leave now?"

  "Of course, my dear. Our business can wait."

  "Oh," Mr. Duffield and Mr. Onslow both sounded disappointed.

  "It wasn't urgent," Matt told them. "I'll come back another time."

  "To see me," Mr. Onslow said.

  Mr. Duffield moved between Matt and Mr. Onslow. "Or me." He held out his hand, and Matt shook it. He shot Onslow a triumphant look.

  With a flattening of his lips, Onslow approached me. He assisted me to my feet. "Dear Mrs. Prescott, I do hope you'll feel better soon. You gave me quite a scare."

  "Yes," Matt growled. "You did." He took my elbow and with his other hand on my lower back, steered me out and down the stairs.

  He didn't let me go until I was inside the brougham, nor did his scowl ease. "Do not go against our plans again."

  I waved off his concern. "They weren't set in stone."

  "Even so—"

  "Even so, I had some success, therefore you can't admonish me."

  His scowl deepened.

  I cleared my throat. "I'll tell you what I found, shall I?" When he didn't respond, I pushed on. "I think Hallam works for Lord Coyle."

  "Who's he?"

  "I don't know. There were three entries against his name in Onslow's ledger." I told him about the payment amounts and finding fifteen pounds in bank notes in the drawer. "Hallam had just paid Onslow on behalf of Coyle."

  "For what?"

  "The entry was simply listed as dues, but the amount paid was far more than every other dues payment. I overheard Onslow telling Hallam he could get more. More maps, perhaps. Then Hallam asked how. He specifically said, 'Do you know the maker?' Those were his exact words, Matt. I think it means mapmaker, and I wondered if he could be referring to magical maps and a magician mapmaker. If so, then Onslow must have kidnapped Daniel. He's using him to create magic maps on demand then selling the maps to exclusive customers."

  Matt's brow remained furrowed. He didn't seem to be considering my theory at all. Did he not trust that I'd heard what I'd heard? Did he only believe what he saw and heard himself?

  "Aren't you going to congratulate me?" I asked, my tone clipped. "Thank me?"

  "You'll be lucky if I take you out with me again."

  Good lord, he was still concerned that I could have got myself into trouble. "I did a marvelous job, and you know it. You're just jealous that I had all the fun while you were left with the dull part of the plan."

  "None of that was part of my plan," he growled. "And you consider that fun?"

  "No, not really." I showed him my gloved hands. They still shook. "My nerves were quite shredded there, for a while. They're still a little taut, but now that it's over, I feel invigorated."

  He rolled his eyes to the cabin ceiling. "What have I created?"

  I smiled. "Don't worry, I won't make a habit of it."
>
  "See that you don't."

  "Unless it's necessary."

  He sighed.

  "The problem is, Cyclops didn't find Onslow's movements suspicious, nor did he find a hidden room where Daniel could be kept," I said. "Our theory still contains some holes."

  "It does. Cyclops will continue to follow him, but perhaps we should check if Onslow is indeed selling magical maps or if it is something else entirely."

  "We could investigate the connection to Lord Coyle. Perhaps he'll be willing to tell us what he purchased from Onslow. I wonder if your aunt knows him."

  Miss Glass did indeed know of him, although she'd never met him. "Oh yes," she said, accepting the cup of tea I handed to her after lunch. Matt went to his room to rest upon our return, so I'd waited until he joined us in the sitting room before asking about Coyle. "Intriguing fellow, by all accounts," she told me.

  "Where does he live?" Matt asked.

  "His estate is in Oxfordshire. Why?"

  "I have some business to conduct with him."

  She paused, the teacup at her lips. "Nothing underhanded, I hope?"

  Matt and I both frowned. "Why would you think that?" he asked. "My affairs are all above board."

  "I know yours are, Matthew. Lord Coyle, however…" She set the teacup down in the saucer without drinking. "I thought you might have been caught up in something with him that you couldn't get out of. I'm glad I'm wrong."

  "What sort of thing is Coyle involved in?"

  "It's all gossip, and I don't like to spread it about. Nasty stuff." She picked up her cup once again and sipped.

  "Aunt," he said through a clenched jaw.

  "You wouldn't want Matt to trust this Lord Coyle when you could have prevented him from making a mistake, would you?" I asked.

  "When you put it like that." Miss Glass handed her teacup and saucer to me, and I placed them on the table. "I've never met him. He's not part of my set, or your Uncle Richard's. He's only a little younger than me, rich as Croesus, and is an earl, no less. Yet he's unwed."