by C. J. Archer
"We did."
"What shall we do if she doesn't succeed?" Aunt Letitia asked weakly. "Should we send Cyclops away, where he'll be safe?"
Matt sat down again with a heavy sigh. "I don't want to do that."
"Then the Home Secretary will deport him back to America."
"Rycroft will have him thrashed first," Willie added. "I know his kind, and I've seen their hatred for folk like Cyclops. Rycroft won't let him leave the country without getting the message across that he shouldn't have touched his daughter."
She was right, and we all knew it.
Chapter 17
Willie barreled into the dining room at breakfast the following morning, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. "I got it!" she cried.
"You just get in?" Duke asked, not even looking up from his plate of fried eggs.
"No, idiot. I got home hours ago." She stood with her hands on her hips, inviting us to ask questions.
"So what've you got? A disease?"
She scowled at him. "An idea. I know what to do to get Rycroft to leave Cyclops alone."
"Don't get involved," Cyclops said from the sideboard. "I can handle Rycroft's men."
"This ain't about Rycroft sending his thugs around. This is about getting him to leave you alone for good." She glanced at Matt and he nodded at her to go on. "He's been speaking to the Home Office to get you deported."
Cyclops set his plate down at the table with a thud and a glare for Matt. Matt held it, but there was sympathy in his eyes, not censure.
"Don't look at me like that," Cyclops muttered. "I hate it. I hate you all for bothering with my business. I can take care of myself."
I touched his hand. "We know you can, but the point is, you don't have to."
Cyclops didn't look convinced.
"You took care of me when I was ill," Matt said. "Now let me take care of you, if I can." He picked up his coffee cup, frowning. "The problem is, I'm out of ideas. Unless Hope can convince Charity to tell the truth…" He ended the sentence with a shrug.
"Ain't no one been listening to me?" Willie cried. "I've got an idea. And it's a good one."
"Let us be the judge of that," Duke said. "But go on. Take the stage."
She straightened and squared her shoulders. "No one saw what happened in the stables, ain't that so, Cyclops?"
"She waited until I was alone," he said.
"Aye, but she was so focused on you that she wouldn't have seen anyone else arrive and look in."
"Nobody did. There were no witnesses, Willie." Cyclops picked up his fork and stabbed a sausage.
"You're too honest, Cyclops, that's your problem. You got to think like a dishonest person. Like Charity. You got to lie."
Duke wagged his finger at her, his smile breaking free. "Someone will pretend they saw you and tell Rycroft that Charity advanced on him, not the other way round. Good thinking, Willie. But which one of us will he believe?"
"It can't be any of us," Matt said, sitting forward. "It has to be someone they don't know, someone impartial."
"Or someone they think is impartial," I said. "Someone who'll lie convincingly and, as you say, Matt, someone they don't know."
Willie's gaze connected with mine. "Catherine," we both said.
Cyclops held me back from stepping out of the carriage after Catherine. "I don't like involving her," he whispered.
"It doesn't matter," I whispered back. "Everyone else, including Catherine, thinks it's a marvelous idea." I took Matt's hand and allowed him to assist me down the step to the pavement.
"Don't let them see you," Matt said as he closed the door.
Cyclops had already melted into the shadows of the cabin.
Catherine clutched her reticule in both hands as we climbed the steps to the front door of the Rycrofts' townhouse. She showed the perfect amount of nervousness, not too much that it appeared false, but just enough to make her look as though she was in awe of the grand nobles she was about to meet.
"You're an excellent actress," I told her.
"I'm not acting. I'm terrified I'll ruin everything."
Matt had sent a message ahead to ensure both Lord and Lady Rycroft were at home when we called, so the butler showed us through to the drawing room upon our arrival. Tea was already waiting to be served. Lady Rycroft poured without so much as a greeting, although she did nod at both Matt and me first. She didn't give Catherine a moment's attention.
"Sit down and let's get this over with," Lord Rycroft said, checking his watch. "I have to get to my club."
"We asked for Charity to be here too," Matt said. "We'll wait for her."
Lord Rycroft sighed and sat.
"This is absurd," his wife muttered. "What can this girl possibly have to contribute to the situation?"
"We'll inform you as soon as Charity gets here," Matt said.
Lady Rycroft invited Matt and me to sit, but not Catherine. Like a dutiful maid addressing her so-called betters, she remained standing, her head bowed and hands clasped loosely in front of her. Matt refused to sit while she stood, but his uncle didn't seem to care.
Charity finally swanned in, humming out of tune, only to halt upon seeing us. "What is this? Why have you summoned me here?"
"That's what we'd like to know," Lord Rycroft said wryly.
"This is Catherine," Matt said. "She works as a maid for one of my neighbors. She has something to tell you about the day Charity met Cyclops in the stables."
Lord and Lady Rycroft exchanged glances.
"It's none of her business," Charity spat.
"I was there," Catherine said in a tremulous voice. "I witnessed what happened between you and the one-eyed giant."
Charity made a scoffing sound. "She couldn't have," she told her parents. "I saw no one."
"Let her finish," Matt said.
Catherine gulped. "I was delivering a message to our coachman in the stables next to Mr. Glass's. I was about to leave when I saw her approaching." She indicated Charity. "I could tell she was someone important so I didn't want to cross paths with her. I thought it best to let her go on her way. She seemed to know where she was going. So I stayed in the stables, out of sight."
"What happened then?" Matt asked.
"She went into your stables and approached the giant."
"Cyclops," Matt told her.
"Cyclops," she repeated. "The stables are close to my master's, and I heard every word." To Charity, she said, "You told Cyclops that you…liked him."
Lord Rycroft closed his eyes.
"This is absurd," Lady Rycroft muttered.
"I didn't say that," Charity said with a smug smile. "You weren't there. You're making it all up."
"Liked isn't the word you used," Catherine agreed. "But…I don't want to say what you said. It's not a word I've ever said in my life and I don't want to repeat it here. Please don't make me say it, Mr. Glass."
"You don't have to," he assured her. "Am I right in suggesting that the words Charity used implied she desired him?"
Catherine blushed. "In a way."
"Wanted him in a physical manner?"
"That's enough, Glass," Lord Rycroft snapped.
Catherine nodded. "It's true. She used a vulgar word."
"Another lie!" Charity cried, shooting to her feet. "You can't believe a thing she says!"
Her mother pinched her lips and her hand fluttered at her flushed throat.
"Sit down," Lord Rycroft barked. "I want to hear the rest."
"Then what happened?" Matt said to Catherine.
"I was going to walk back out of the lane but stopped outside your stables, sir, because I…I admit I was fascinated by what was happening inside. I saw the lady here trying to kiss Cyclops."
Charity shook her head. "All lies."
"He pushed her away and tried to walk off, but she blocked his exit. To get past her, he would have had to hurt her." That wasn't a line we'd rehearsed, but was a nice touch of Catherine's own invention. "Then she tried to kiss him again."
"No, miss, I don't lie. My mistress is very strict about such things, and I wouldn't dare risk her anger. She didn't want me coming here at all today, but Mr. Glass insisted I had to speak up. My mistress told me I must speak the truth. And that's what this is, the whole truth of what I saw and heard that day. You tried to kiss Cyclops, and told him you wanted more from him, and he tried to get away. He refused you and acted the gentleman the entire time."
It was precisely the words Matt had instructed her to say with just the right amount of deference. People like the Rycrofts believed in their absolute superiority over the domestic class, but they demanded honesty above all else from their staff. It was more important than efficiency, and certainly more important than being able to think for oneself. Indeed, they tended to believe maids were too stupid to form an opinion and, by extension, to lie convincingly.
"She's made it up!" Charity said, appealing to her parents.
"Be quiet," Lord Rycroft barked.
Charity flounced into the chair and folded her arms with a humph.
Lady Rycroft turned to Catherine. "Nothing you've said proves that you're telling us the truth. Why should we believe you?"
"Because there's one more thing," Catherine said, dipping her head to hide her blush. "Something I hoped I wouldn't have to say."
"What is it?" Matt asked. "You can tell us. Indeed, you must tell the entire truth. What else did Charity say?"
"It's not what she said, it's what she did next." Her gaze flicked to Charity then back down to the floor. "She jumped on him."
Charity's reaction gave her away. Instead of the brief second of stunned silence, she should have denied it. But she did not. She looked trapped.
Then the explosive denials spewed from her lips until her father ordered her to stop. "Enough! Charity, get out of my sight. I can't stand to look at you."
"But—"
"Go!"
Charity launched herself out of the chair and landed on her knees in front of her mother. "Mama, please, you believe me, don't you? I'd never do such a thing. This girl is lying. She's an actress. She's doing it for money."
"Are you suggesting I'd pay someone to lie for me?" Matt asked, sounding both offended and regal at the same time.
"Mama!" Charity cried, reaching for her mother.
Lady Rycroft batted her daughter's hands away. "It's too late. You've been caught." She looked neither shocked nor repulsed by Catherine's story. Had she known all along that Charity was lying? Was her complicity in the lie her way of hurting Matt and me?
Charity sobbed. "No, no, no! You have to believe me. He—he hurt me. He wanted me. He still does."
Her father grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. He marched her to the door then pushed her through and shut it behind her. Her wails receded as she ran off.
"Why are you coming forward now, girl?" Lady Rycroft asked Catherine. "Why not earlier?"
"I didn't know there was a problem, ma'am. I don't like to meddle in the business of others. I keep myself to myself. But when our cook said she'd heard from Mr. Glass's cook that Cyclops was in trouble over the incident, I came forward and told Mrs. Glass the truth. It's not right that a good man should suffer."
Lady Rycroft put up her hand. "Spare me the sermon." To Matt, she said, "There will be no more discussion of this. Is that understood? If I hear even a whisper of it, I will see that your man is whipped."
"You won't touch him," Matt said darkly. "My wrath is far more dangerous than the law, and you won't know what form it will take. Is that clear?"
Lady Rycroft paled then nodded. Her husband blew out a measured breath.
"We agree that the incident should never be spoken about again," I said, rising. "By any of the parties."
"And Charity is not to go near Cyclops," Matt added. "If I were you, I'd keep a closer eye on her."
We saw ourselves out, only to be intercepted by Hope in the entrance hall. She rushed out of the shadows and glanced up the stairs. "I heard everything," she whispered. "What does this mean for our agreement, India?"
"I—"
"You failed to help us," Matt cut in. "The agreement is no longer valid."
"But I intended to help!" she said. "Is that not enough?"
"Cyclops intended to avoid your sister and look where that got him. Good day, Hope. And good luck."
She lunged at him. "Help me or I'll tell Patience you blackmailed Cox into marrying her."
My heart stopped. My scalp tingled. I tried to think of an answer that would dissuade her from the truth, but all clear thought fled.
"No one blackmailed him," Matt said, pushing past her.
"I know you did! I just don't know what leverage you used. But I will find out!"
Matt escorted me outside with Catherine a little behind, according to her so-called station as a maid. He did, however, hold the carriage door open for both of us and assisted us up the step.
"How did it go?" Cyclops asked as we drove off.
"Very well," Matt said. "You have nothing to worry about now."
Cyclops tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Thank God."
Catherine took his hand between both of hers and smiled at him.
"You were wonderful," I told her. "You played your part perfectly."
Cyclops laid his other hand over hers. "Thank you, Catherine. I owe you so much."
"You owe me nothing," she said cheerfully. "I did it willingly and would do it again, if necessary."
He kissed her cheek and she blushed. Then they both turned away and stared out their respective windows. Their hands remained linked, however.
"What about Hope?" I asked Matt. "Are you really going to leave her to Coyle after what she just said?"
"She's bluffing. She must have guessed about the blackmail, but she'll never find out how you convinced Cox. Without that knowledge, she can't do or say anything." He gave me a reassuring smile. "We'll let her think we're doing nothing with regard to Coyle. Let her fret for a little."
"But you will talk to Coyle and try to convince him she wouldn't make a good wife, won't you?"
"We both will. I suspect he'll value your opinion above mine."
I only hoped he was right and she had no way of discovering the truth about Cox's past. If she did discover it, she wouldn't fret for long. She'd act, and there was no telling what damage she could do with the information.
Lord Coyle sent a message the following morning inquiring if we could receive him later that day. So when Bristow announced a caller at precisely three o'clock, we thought it was his lordship.
It was, in fact, Oscar Barratt. "I'd like your permission to talk to Fabian Charbonneau," he announced as he settled into the drawing room with Matt and me.
"You don't need our permission," I said. "Fabian is a free man and can accept or refuse you himself."
"But I don't know where he is. You do."
"Why do you want to speak to him?"
"My editor wants me to write an article about Scotland Yard's suspicion of his involvement in the murder of McGuire. There are some unanswered questions about his escape and other matters."
"He escaped by using magic," Matt said. "Are you going to write that?"
"Ah. I didn't realize. No, I can't mention magic. It's not that kind of article. However, I wouldn't mind speaking to him about it for my book."
"It's still going ahead?" I asked.
"Of course."
Bristow entered and announced Lord Coyle. His lordship hesitated in the doorway upon seeing Oscar. "Barratt," he said in greeting. "I wasn't aware you already had company, Glass."
"I was just leaving." Oscar rose, his gaze never wavering from Coyle.
Despite both being magic enthusiasts, their interests didn't align. Oscar wanted to share magic with the world, and Coyle wanted to keep it hidden for his own pur
poses. If Coyle found out that Oscar planned on writing a book, and Louisa was financing its printing, he'd go to great lengths to suppress it.
"There's one more thing I came here to tell you," Oscar said, puffing out his chest. "It's a personal matter, but I don't mind if Lord Coyle hears it too. It'll be in the papers very soon anyway."
"Not another article on magic," I said.
Oscar chuckled. "Not unless you consider that love is magical. I'm getting married."
"Congratulations," I said. "Do we know her?"
"Indeed you do. It's Lady Louisa Hollingbroke."
"Oh!"
He tilted his head to the side. "You no longer seem pleased."
"I'm just a little surprised," I said through my hard smile. "I didn't realize you'd become that well acquainted."
"It is sudden, but I find her intriguing. She has quite a unique perspective, and she knows her own mind, which I like."
"She's also worth a fortune," Coyle said. "Congratulations, Barratt. You're going to have your hands full with that one." He moved past Oscar.
Oscar's gaze tracked the earl's plodding progress. "I'm not marrying her for her money. I love her. We're very happy."
Lord Coyle lowered himself into a chair with a grunt.
I looked to Matt, hoping he would take the lead and tell Oscar what we knew about Louisa and her search for a magician husband. But he looked as stupefied by the news as me and remained silent.
Oscar said his goodbyes and saw himself out.
"I don't know which of them is the bigger fool," Lord Coyle said. "She only wants him for his magic, and he only wants her for her money."
"She has her charms," I said, not quite sure whether I was defending Oscar or Louisa. "She's intelligent and independent. I think he really might be in love with her. As to her motives…I'm quite sure you're right on that score."
Lord Coyle grunted again. "Speaking of marriage. That's why I've come to speak to you. Mrs. Glass, I wish to call in my favor."
My legs suddenly felt weak and I plopped down on the chair.
Matt stood beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Go on," he said.
"I want you to encourage Hope to marry me."