by C. J. Archer
"Whom do you advise?"
Sir Charles crossed his legs and flicked imaginary dust off his trousers. "The royal family."
"How interesting," I said. "What do you advise them on?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Steele, but I am not at liberty to say. Her Majesty prefers such things to remain private. I hope you understand."
"Oh. Of course." Whatever he did, it was enough to earn him a knighthood.
The housekeeper brought in tea and buttery biscuits that tasted as delicious as they looked.
Matt got straight to the point as soon as she left. "Someone has been sending Oscar Barratt of The Weekly Gazette threatening letters. He asked us to find out who."
Sir Charles's eyebrows rose ever higher with each sentence. "Probably wise, considering what happened to Baggley. What does it have to do with me, though?"
"The paper used was made by a magician named Hendry. He has a workshop in Smithfield. Does the name ring a bell with you?"
"No. Should it?"
"Who makes your personal stationery?"
"A local man by the name of Woodley." Sir Charles frowned. "Are you accusing me of being the author of the letters?"
"You wanted Barratt stopped."
Sir Charles set down his teacup with a clatter. "I did not send anyone threatening letters. I may not want Barratt writing those articles, but I wouldn't bother with a written threat. That sort of thing is ineffective, in my experience."
"What method would you employ?" Matt asked.
Sir Charles picked up his cup again and sipped.
"May I see one of your calling cards?" I asked.
Sir Charles pulled a small silver case from his inside jacket pocket. He flipped open the lid and picked out a card, which he handed to me. His name was printed in black ink on the thick cream paper. Neither the card nor the ink felt warm. I handed it back and shook my head at Matt.
"I suppose you're asking to see the stationery of all members of the collectors' club," Sir Charles said.
"Only those we met at Lord Coyle's dinner at this point," I said. "We have several other lines of inquiry to follow up too."
Sir Charles smiled. "You sound like a seasoned detective, Miss Steele. Lord Coyle tells me you two have solved other crimes together. You're gaining quite a reputation for yourselves."
"It's why Oscar Barratt came to us with his problem."
"Could it also be because you're a powerful magician?"
"Is she?" Matt stood and buttoned his jacket. "Lord Coyle seems to be basing his theory on the gossip spread by a prisoner who resents me. Has it occurred to you that Payne might be trying to get his revenge by making life difficult for Miss Steele?"
"You're right," Sir Charles said. "I do apologize. I don't appreciate gossip and innuendo either. Unless I personally see Miss Steele extend someone's life, I will assume her powers are as ordinary as every other magician's. Do you accept my apology, Miss Steele?"
"Of course," I said.
He put out his hand to assist me to stand. "I hope to see you again. I understand you're reluctant to talk about your magic with strangers, but I hope you will realize, in time, that no one in the club wishes you harm. We are merely curious about magic, as none of us have the ability ourselves. We are all quite dull." He chuckled.
"I don't think the artless are dull," I said. "But thank you."
He walked us to the front door and we were about to leave when I remembered something. "Did you enjoy the fights the other night?"
He blinked. "Pardon?"
"The fights at the tavern. I was there with my friends and saw you."
He shook his head. "I'm afraid you have the wrong man. I don't watch fighting for amusement. I find it rather unpleasant." He held the door open wider. "Good day, Miss Steele, Mr. Glass."
"That's odd," I said to Matt as we drove off. "It was definitely him I saw."
"Perhaps he's embarrassed to admit he likes to watch illegal bare knuckle fighting. It's not the most gentlemanly of sports."
"True. And he does strike me as rather a debonair gent who'd be particular about getting blood on his nice suit."
Matt smiled. "Not like my friends. I seem to have trouble keeping them away from blood sports. Willie in particular has an affinity for it."
"She's quite the ring leader when it comes to leading the other two astray. I know why Duke does whatever she wants, but I thought Cyclops would back down before the fights started."
"He needed the distraction. He's more interested in Catherine than he likes to admit, even to himself." Matt watched me through half lowered lids and I got the feeling he had more to say.
"Go on," I urged.
"If I don't find something for them to do, they're going to grow more restless. If they grow too bored, they'll either pester me to return to America, or they'll want to compete in more bare knuckle fights. Since Duke and Cyclops are averse to beating each other up for sport, they'll run out of taverns soon enough."
"Are you saying you want to return to America?" I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I wanted to be with Matt, and I would travel to the ends of the earth if needs be. But my grandfather was in London, and everything I knew was there too.
"No," he said. "Just that I need to give them something to do."
"Then let’s start delegating before they kill one another."
Matt brought me breakfast in the morning before I was fully awake. He promised that none of the servants saw him enter my room, but since they would have prepared the tray, I thought the fact irrelevant. I wasn't sure whether I minded or not. I should. It was terribly scandalous to have a man in my room at such an hour, but it was also a small way of showing the world we planned to be together.
I sat up in bed and he handed me the tray. "What's happened?" I asked upon seeing his grim face.
He opened the curtains then removed the newspaper he'd tucked under his arm. It was opened to the announcements page. I groaned as I read the short paragraph he pointed to.
Lord and Lady Rycroft are delighted to announce the engagement of their eldest daughter Patience Glass to the heir of the Rycroft title, Matthew Glass of Mayfair.
Chapter 6
"So. It's official." I lowered the paper with a shaking hand. How had it come to this? The entanglement with Patience had seemed a little unreal up until now. I never doubted Matt, not really. I always thought he would find a way out of it. Now it was splashed in bold type in the most prestigious newspaper of the city, it was very real indeed.
Matt sat on the bed near my knee and closed his hand over mine. "My uncle assured me he would give me more time to convince Lord Cox." His fingers tightened. "I'll have it out with him this morning."
"What will you do?"
He said nothing. I wouldn't put it past him to punch his uncle. He'd threatened it before, and looking at him now, his chest rising and falling with his seething breaths, he was in the right frame of mind to do something rash.
"Don't," I said, my eyes burning with tears. "The more you anger him, the less likely he'll be to let you out of the arrangement."
"He was never holding out hope for Cox to change his mind," he bit off. "I know that, now. I was a fool for trusting him. Damn it."
I sidled closer and put my arms around him. I rested my head on his shoulder and felt him relax a little. "What do we do now? Keep trying to convince Lord Cox?"
He kissed the top of my head and tucked me under his chin. "He's not going to give in."
"Then what? Backing out of the engagement would embarrass Patience now that it's been made public. She already suffered after Lord Cox withdrew his suit."
"I know," he said heavily. "I can't end it, anyway."
I pulled back to look at him. He avoided my gaze. "Tell me, Matt. Tell me what he has over you. Together, we might be able to think of a way out."
He didn't speak for a long time, and I thought he was thinking up a lie to placate me. But when he spoke, I knew it wasn't a lie. "He told me if I didn't agree to the union, he would inform the home s
ecretary about your magic. They're friends."
"The home secretary?" I murmured. When it came to the country's safety, only the prime minister was higher. "But…what would he do if he found out about my magic?"
Matt swept the hair off my forehead. "I don't know. That's the problem, India, I just don't know. He might treat it as a joke, or he might lock you up."
"Or he might have me studied."
He nodded. "If you can think of a way out of this arrangement without angering my uncle, I'm all ears."
I slumped against him and plucked the fabric of his shirt. "We could run away together. Let's go to America after all."
"It'll be an admission of guilt, and the home secretary will believe my uncle. You'll never be able to return here."
"So you do agree to do it? Even if it means hurting Patience and destroying her chances of a good marriage?" And that of her sisters, I might have said, but didn't want to add more burdens to his conscience. He already knew anyway.
He traced the line of my jaw with light, gentle fingers. "I'm not marrying her, India. Only you."
I pressed my lips to his in a light, feathery kiss then snuggled into his warm body with a sigh. "As much as I want to be with you, Matt, and as angry as I am at her for going along with this scheme, I don't want to ruin Patience's life." She desperately wanted to get away from her parents and sisters, and she saw marriage as her only way out. Without a skill or trade to fall back on, it probably was. But if Matt abandoned her so soon after Lord Cox had, no man would want her. She was already too old for most gentlemen to consider her, and she was too shy to easily attract beaus. Two broken engagements would bury her.
"I'll speak with her alone," Matt said. "If Lord Cox won't change his mind, perhaps she'll change hers and refuse me."
I doubted it, but I didn't say so. He needed to cling to some hope, just as much as I did. The problem was, I couldn't see a way out that didn't involve us running away and her being unhappy for the rest of her life.
Matt prowled from one side of the drawing room to the other while the rest of us sat and watched, helpless. "He said he wouldn't announce it yet," Matt growled to no one in particular. "He broke his promise to me."
"Did she make a promise?" Miss Glass asked. "Did my sister-in-law say she wouldn't announce it so soon?" It was difficult to gauge her feelings from her cool gaze, her outward calmness, but the steeliness of her question suggested she wasn't entirely ambivalent.
Matt stopped short. "Aunt Beatrice made no such promise."
"Then she is to blame for this." Miss Glass picked up the newspaper only to throw it down on the table again. It skidded off and fell on the floor. "You must speak to her, Matthew. You must tell her that you and Richard had an understanding. She shouldn't be allowed to get away with this gross mishandling of the situation."
Matt began pacing again. "It won't change anything. What's done is done."
Cyclops picked up the newspaper and placed it on the table. "So what are you going to do?"
Matt stopped again and his gaze met mine. "I couldn't say." He didn't need to tell me more. The situation had reached the crisis we'd discussed. It was time to make plans to leave England.
Willie, Cyclops and Duke seemed to reach the same understanding. Everyone's focus shifted to Miss Glass. Thankfully, she seemed unaware. I didn't want her reaching the same conclusion. Not yet. We had not discussed where she fitted into our plans, and now that I thought about it, I knew there was no easy solution. She wouldn't want to leave England, yet we couldn't leave her with her horrid relatives.
"I don't understand why Lord Cox is being so obstinate," she said with a shake of her head. "He seemed to enjoy Patience's company and didn't mind her timidity. Indeed, he seemed to like that she wasn't as brash as her sisters."
"He can't look past her indiscretion," I said.
"He feels as though he was taken in by her and her parents," Matt added. "He thinks the timidity you speak of, Aunt, was merely a ruse to secure him."
"The man's an ass," Willie said. "Most of 'em are, excepting you three. If you ask me, she's well rid of him if he ain't got the b—"
"Willie," Matt snapped.
She sniffed and crossed her arms. "He's an ass," she said again.
Miss Glass sighed and excused herself. She looked upset, and I rose instinctively to go with her. She paused at the door, but when she saw me sit down again, her chin lowered and she left.
"So when are we leaving?" Willie asked Matt once Miss Glass was out of earshot.
Matt's gaze connected with mine.
"For Patience's sake, we should tell her today that you cannot marry her," I said.
"Matt has told her," Willie whined.
"But she knows Lord Rycroft has something over him and will use it to force his hand. Patience thinks it's enough. She doesn't know it's not."
"We can't tell her," Matt said, finally taking a seat beside me on the sofa. "She'll tell my uncle, and he'll follow through with his threat. We have to leave before he finds out."
"You can send her a letter," Duke said.
"The coward's way," Matt muttered.
"You can't risk anything else. The gov'ment won't want India leaving the country."
"First of all, we don't know that Patience will tell her father immediately," I said. "Second of all, you're overstating my worth to any government. Thirdly, you are assuming the authorities will believe Lord Rycroft. So far, they have not commented on Oscar's articles. For all we know, the home secretary will laugh him out of the office."
"Or he won't," Cyclops intoned. "It ain't worth the risk. I agree with Matt and Duke. You can't tell Patience, or anyone else, when we're leaving. I know it ain't fair to her, but you got to think of yourself now. Don't play games with your freedom, India. When it's gone, it's mighty difficult to get it back again."
I swallowed. He was right. But I had one ace up my sleeve. "I have an idea. If it doesn't work, then we make plans to leave England in secret. If it does, then hopefully Lord Cox will change his mind and we can stay after all."
Willie gave another snort. "You going to blackmail him?"
"We have nothing to blackmail him with," Matt said.
"We're going to invite them both to dine here," I said. "Just the two of them, and neither will know the other is coming."
Willie snorted. "I want to be in the room when they realize it's a trick."
"It's not a trick," I retorted. "Merely a…"
"A matchmaking service," Duke finished for me. "Like them marriage brokers. Back in the old days, they arranged matches between men from the west and women from the eastern states."
Willie rolled her eyes. "It ain't like that at all, Duke. It won't work."
"You just ain't romantic."
"An arranged marriage ain't romantic. It's a prison sentence."
"It might work," I said. "At a suitable point in the evening, the rest of us will leave them alone. If Miss Glass is right, and Lord Cox does truly like Patience, then perhaps he'll reconsider after spending more time with her."
Matt nodded thoughtfully. "It's likely they were never left alone much. If he gets to know her, he might fall in love with her."
"Or he might flee in the other direction," Willie said. "Well, it's true," she added when Duke admonished her. "She's as dull as mud."
"She's not," I said. "I like her better than her sisters. At least I did before she refused to defy her parents and set Matt free."
Matt took my hand. "It's a good idea, and I see no other way at the moment. I'll arrange it."
I gave him a flat smile. It was the best I could offer.
"And if it don't work?" Willie asked.
"Let's give it a chance before we make plans," Matt said.
She sighed. "I suppose I can wait. What about you two?" she asked Duke and Cyclops. "You want to go home soon, don't you?"
I wasn't surprised when Cyclops gave a non-committal shrug. Returning to America meant returning to danger, with his past employer sti
ll hunting him. He also had feelings for Catherine, even though he denied them. I was surprised to see Duke hesitate, however.
Willie muttered something under her breath that I didn't hear and pushed to her feet. "I'm going out for some air."
"I've got something for the three of you to do," Matt told them. "I want Mr. Hendry, the paper magician, Mr. Sweeney, the Stationers’ Guild master, and Abercrombie watched. Decide which of you follows which man."
"You think Abercrombie is involved in Baggley's murder?" Cyclops asked.
"I wouldn't put it past him to have his finger in this pie."
The three of them left with flasks of whiskey and a pie in their pocket to eat cold for luncheon. If nothing else, it was something for them to do now that the convent's roof was fixed.
"Where are you going?" I asked Matt when I saw him asking Bristow to fetch his coat.
"To speak with my aunt and uncle," he said. "We had an agreement."
"It's too late to change anything now. Whatever you say to them will fall on deaf ears. Let them think you've accepted the situation. That way they won't anticipate our counter-move. Now go and write the invitations to Patience and Lord Cox."
He lightly kissed my forehead. "You're far more pragmatic than I."
He wrote the invitations in his study before handing them to Peter the footman to post. We'd decided the following night would allow Mrs. Potter the time she needed to prepare special dishes. Matt then informed his aunt of the plan and swore her to secrecy. We briefly considered not telling her at all but decided we had to. She would be joining us for dinner, after all.
I waited for Matt in the entrance hall, gloves in hand, ready to leave to call on the Delanceys. He joined me with his aunt in tow and watched on as she pressed something into my hand.
"I wanted to give you this, India," she said. "It will look very fetching on that jacket."
I opened my hand to see a silver brooch in the shape of a honeyeater. A small amethyst brightened the bird's eye.
"Shall I pin it on you?" she asked.
"I can't accept this," I said. "You shouldn't be buying me things, Miss Glass."