by C. J. Archer
"Those are my terms, Miss Steele. You can choose to take them, and I'll tell you what you want to know about Cox, or you can leave." He put the cigar back in his mouth, crossed his arms and waited.
I drew in a deep breath and coughed as the smoke caught in my throat. If I left now, there would be no returning. We would leave England on Saturday, leaving my grandfather, and the life I knew, behind to start a new one with Matt. We would leave Oscar Barratt alone to battle a war of words with Abercrombie and the other guild masters. We would potentially be handing Abercrombie precisely what he wanted—a London without me in it.
We would also break Patience's spirit. I couldn't have that on my conscience. I couldn't be completely happy knowing we'd caused her to suffer more.
"I won't do anything illegal for you," I said. "And I won't hurt anyone."
He nodded.
"Then I agree to your terms," I said. "Tell me what you know about Lord Cox."
Chapter 14
"What did you buy?" Willie asked as I joined her in Miss Glass's room. They sat on the bed together, both propped up against pillows, legs outstretched. Miss Glass wore a robe over a nightgown and was covered from the waist down by blankets, whereas Willie wore her usual masculine clothes and sat on top of the blankets. She had removed her boots, at least.
"Have you been shopping, India?" Miss Glass asked. "Without me?"
"Ain't something she'd ordinarily do, eh, Letty," Willie said, her gaze narrow. She knew me too well. I rarely went shopping, let alone without company.
Thankfully I'd walked home via Piccadilly and stopped in at The Family Confectioner. The longer route had given me time to think about the information Lord Coyle had given me. I still could hardly fathom the shocking news, but his lordship had assured me it was not a joke, and his information was correct. It was so shocking, in fact, that I doubted my ability to use it against Lord Cox. How could I, a nobody, threaten to tell the world what I knew if he didn't marry Patience? What would he do?
After mulling it over, I knew the answer to that question. He'd do precisely what I asked him to do because he would not want the information becoming public. It would ruin him and change the course of his life—and the lives of his children. I wouldn't follow through on the threat lightly, and I needed time to think if it was what I really wanted to do. I couldn't visit him today. Besides, Matt and the others would be suspicious if I went out alone again.
I fished the bag of Bullseyes out of my reticule and handed it to Willie. "I bought these and some marshmallows."
She looked inside the bag and screwed up her nose. "It ain't jewelry."
"Why were you expecting me to buy jewelry?"
"No reason." She nudged Miss Glass with her elbow.
"A lady does not buy her own engagement ring," Miss Glass said stiffly.
"She does if the gen'leman ain't bought one for her."
"Matt is still engaged to Patience," I reminded them. "It would be crass for me to wear one now."
"Precisely," Miss Glass said. "You are quite correct, India." She patted the bed near her. "Off you go, Willemina. India and I need to talk."
Willie shuffled aside and popped a Bullseye in her mouth then settled back against the pillows.
Miss Glass clicked her tongue and eyed the door. Willie sighed and got up. "I'm going," she said. "But I'm taking these with me." She took the bag of sweets, picked her boots up off the floor, and left.
"Sit, India," Miss Glass said, patting the bed again.
"Is this about going away?" I asked. "Do you need advice on what to pack?"
"It's about you and Matthew." She took my hand between both of hers. "I want you to know that I give you my approval."
I stared at her a moment, then threw my arms around her. "Thank you," I whispered. "It means a lot to us."
"Not that you needed my approval."
"No, but it's nice to have." I pulled away and smiled. She smiled back, and I was relieved to see that it was genuine. She was not giving her approval because she was backed into a corner but because she wanted to give it. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Hardly sudden, my dear. You have been chipping away at me for some time."
"You don't think me a gold digger?"
"I never thought that, India."
"Your brother and sister-in-law do."
"Ignore them. Richard is a bully, and Beatrice has a cold heart. She wouldn't know love if it presented itself to her on a bed of rose petals. It's no wonder their daughters are all deranged. They've not experienced a moment of love their entire lives."
"I'm worried about how they'll treat me," I said. "For Matt's sake, I don't want them to belittle me or gossip about me."
She patted my hand and smiled. "It doesn't matter though, does it? You won't be here. None of us will. We'll be traveling the world, seeing glorious things, while they can molder away in that damp pile of stones they call Rycroft Hall."
I sighed. She would be most disappointed of all if we decided not to leave. "When did you change your mind about us?" I asked.
"I finally realized you two were meant for one another after Matt told me you're leaving so you can be together. Your sacrifices prove it."
"Sacrifices?"
"You're giving up the only home you've ever known for him, and he's moving away from the doctor who can save his life."
I suddenly felt cold. I hadn't thought of that. Why had I not thought of it? Matt needed to be close to Gabriel Seaford in case the watch slowed down again. My magic wasn't enough. Why had I not thought of that?
"India?" Miss Glass's face filled my vision. "India, you did think it through, didn't you? You and Matt must have discussed it."
A knock sounded on the door and it opened a little. Matt saw us and entered. "There you are, India." He kissed my cheek then Miss Glass's. "How are you, Aunt?"
"Well enough to get up, thank you. I don't know why you told Polly to confine me to bed. If it weren't for Willemina, I'd have been quite bored."
Matt looked at me. "You weren't here all morning, India?"
"I went out," I said. "Shopping. I bought sweets but Willie stole them." I swung my legs off the bed and got up. "I'll send Polly to help you dress, Miss Glass. And thank you. For everything."
Matt arched a brow. "What have I missed?"
"Your aunt gave us her blessing," I said.
His smile started slow then quickly broadened. "Thank you, Aunt. I knew you'd come to your senses. I'm just glad it's sooner rather than later." He kissed her forehead and made to leave with me, but she called him back.
"I need to speak with you," she said, patting the space on the bed I'd just vacated.
I left them but did not immediately go in search of Polly. I stood with my back to Miss Glass's door, clutching the handle. She was right. All doubts I had about blackmailing Lord Cox into marrying Patience were banished in the moment she reminded me about Gabe.
As long as he lived here, Matt could not leave London.
Matt, Duke, Cyclops, Willie and I were in the process of considering our next move in the investigation when Oscar Barratt arrived with news.
"A new editor has been appointed," he said, peering through the library window. "A fellow by the name of Pelham." He glanced up and down the street before finally moving into the room. Instead of sitting, however, he paced from one side of the library to the other. As if the signs weren't telling enough, he also wrung his hands. Poor Oscar was at the end of his tether.
"What do you know of him?" Matt asked.
"This is the interesting part," Oscar said, pausing only long enough to stamp his hands on his hips. "He was the editor of The Morning Chronicle. Delancey owns a share of it."
"Delancey!" I cried.
"That's it," Willie said, slapping her hand on the chair arm. "He's the killer. Must be."
Oscar shook his head. "Not necessarily. I received the threatening letters, not Baggley. I was supposed to die that night." He resumed pacing. "The editor's position should
n't have become vacant, but when it unexpectedly did, Delancey took advantage of the situation and put in his own man. That's my theory, anyway. Pelham has already told me I can't write any more articles. I'm sure that's Delancey's influence."
"Good," Matt said.
Oscar scowled at him without breaking stride. "I'll publish them somewhere else. Interest in magic is extremely high. Another paper will take them. I'm on my way to meet with an editor now." He paused by the mantel and tapped the clock face.
"It's working perfectly well," I told him. "Why don't you sit down, Oscar? You'll wear the carpet out."
"Not to mention my neck," Duke said, rubbing it.
Oscar perched on the edge of a chair, looking as if he'd spring up at any moment. "So what's next, Glass? Where is your investigation at?"
"It's worth speaking to Delancey in light of what you just told us," Matt said.
Oscar waited, but when Matt said nothing more, he threw his hands in the air. "So you have nothing." He pushed to his feet and once again paced the room. "You don't care, do you? You're happy the new editor is stopping my articles."
"You think I'm happy that Baggley died?" Matt growled. "If I was going to use violence to stop you writing articles, I would have done so by now. My fists don't miss and hit the wrong man."
Oscar finally stopped pacing. He stood by the fireplace and crossed his arms. "Speak to Delancey if you want, but it won't help. Baggley was never meant to die. I was. Delancey merely took advantage of the vacancy to put his puppet in."
"There is something else we know about Delancey, as it happens," I said. "He gave Mr. Hendry a loan after the banks refused to lend him any money because he’s a magician. His debts have also been called in, leaving him rather desperate."
Oscar shrugged. "How does that make Delancey guilty of my murder?"
"You ain't been murdered," Cyclops said.
"Yet," Willie added with a cool edge to her voice.
Oscar's eyes widened and he took a step away from her.
"Hendry's bankers and creditors somehow learned that he's a magician," Matt said.
"How?"
"We don't know, but if the banks aren't loaning him any more money because he's a magician, it stands to reason that any other known magicians will have a similar problem. And aside from India's grandfather, you only named yourself in your articles—and your brother by association. In light of that, it's interesting to note that Isaac also went to Delancey for a private loan."
Oscar went still. "He did?"
"Perhaps that's why he came to London," I said. "To speak with his bank after they stopped doing business with him."
"When they refused to loan him more money, he went to Delancey," Matt finished.
"He could also have come to kill the source of the articles," Willie said with an apologetic shrug.
Oscar strode up to her, fists clenched at his sides. "My brother is not a killer! For God's sake, he'll hit me but he won't shoot me."
Matt shot to his feet and pulled Oscar away. Willie hadn't looked concerned for her safety but she had also clenched her fists. Oscar jerked free of Matt's grip and rounded his shoulders.
Matt didn't back away. "Find out if your brother's usual bank refused to loan him more money. I want to know by tomorrow."
"Why tomorrow?" Oscar asked.
"This is dragging on too long. Willie, I want you to watch Delancey. Duke and Cyclops, follow the new editor, Pelham. I want to know where he lives, who he associates with, and if he seems to have more money than a newspaper editor ought. Anything that looks suspicious."
The three of them filed out, and Oscar also indicated he had to go.
"I have a meeting in thirty minutes," he said.
"I think you should reconsider trying to sell your articles to other papers," I told him gently. "It's wiser to lie low for a while. At least until we've caught the murderer."
"Or it might flush him out into the open again."
"Are you mad?"
"Why not just paint a target on your back?" Matt said with a shake of his head.
Oscar pointed a finger at Matt's face. "If you were doing your job, I wouldn't have to resort to desperate measures. Find the killer, Glass, before it's too late."
"Stop it, Oscar," I snapped. "We're doing our best."
"Might I remind you that we're doing this gratis?" Matt said
Oscar grunted.
"Consider India's suggestion of lying low," Matt went on. "It's the sensible thing to do."
Oscar squared up to him, puffing out his chest. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You've never wanted me to write the truth about magic. This has all worked out perfectly for you. Typical. Men like you and my brother always get what they want at the expense of the rest of us."
"You'd better go," Matt said, his jaw hard. "Before I'm tempted to escort you out."
Oscar put his hands in the air in surrender and backed away. "I think I liked you better when you were sick."
Matt opened the library door, and Bristow saw Oscar out of the house. Oscar hesitated on the top step, checking the vicinity, before striding purposefully to the waiting cab.
"He's anxious," Matt said as Bristow shut the front door.
"That's no excuse for the way he spoke to you just now," I said. "Or the way he threatened Willie."
"Agreed." He rubbed my arms. "Are you all right, India?"
"Fine. What do we do now?"
"We wait for Willie, Cyclops or Duke to report back."
"Then let's have an early lunch with your aunt."
We didn't have to wait long for the first report. Willie returned as we finished our lunch with details of Delancey's movements. "He met with Hendry at the shop," she said, plucking a sandwich off the platter. "I saw them arguing through the window and then Delancey left. Hendry looked upset." She shoved the entire sandwich in her mouth, much to Miss Glass's disgust.
"Then we'll pay Delancey a visit." Matt rose and held his hand out to me. "Did he go home or to the bank?"
Willie managed to say, "Home," despite a mouth full of sandwich.
It wasn't long before we were once again visiting the Delancey's house. Although we asked to see Mr. Delancey, it was Mrs. Delancey who greeted us in the drawing room.
"India, dearest, how lovely to see you again." She kissed my cheek and greeted Matt politely if not effusively. "Sit, sit. My husband will join us shortly. You just caught him. He came home for luncheon but he must go back to the bank. Ah, here he is. Darling, I was just about to ask India if she'd like to dine with us this evening. You will, won't you, India?"
"I'm afraid I can't," I said. "We have other plans." The lie rolled effortlessly off my tongue, and I didn't feel the least guilty. I'd had quite enough of Mrs. Delancey and her ilk for a while.
"Perhaps next week," she said. "That'll give me more time to ask some friends. Shall we say Tuesday evening?"
I nodded, unsure how to get out of it a second time. Perhaps I could plead ill on the day, assuming I was still in London. I caught Matt watching me closely and turned my attention to Mr. Delancey.
"You were seen arguing with Mr. Hendry, the paper magician, earlier today," I said. "What about?"
He looked taken aback by my direct question. "It's a private matter."
"Please answer Miss Steele," Matt said.
Mr. Delancey bristled. "Why should I?"
"Because you're a suspect in the murder of Mr. Baggley, and not cooperating will make you look guilty."
Mrs. Delancey gasped. "A suspect? India, how could you? After everything I've done for you?"
"I rather think I've done more for you than you have for me," I shot back. Her stunned silence gave me a small measure of satisfaction. "Mr. Delancey, I'm sure you'd like to clear your name, so please answer honestly. We know you loaned Mr. Hendry money."
Delancey turned a frosty gaze onto his wife. She swallowed and took great interest in her hands, folded in her lap.
"Have you retracted the loan?" I went on. "Is tha
t why you argued?"
"Yes," he said.
Mrs. Delancey shook her head at her husband. "Oh, you didn't, did you? Honestly, Ferdinand."
"Why the change of heart?" I asked.
Mr. Delancey crossed his arms and legs. "That is none of your business."
"That poor man," his wife said. "Just when he needs us the most, we abandon him."
"I don't do private business with that sort of man," her husband hissed at her. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you know my thoughts on that."
"I didn't before," she said with a sniff, "but I do now. If I had known you'd be this horrid about it, I wouldn't have told you."
"Told him what?" Matt asked.
Mrs. Delancey arched her brows at her husband.
He uncrossed then re-crossed his legs. "I don't do business with his sort," he repeated.
"Magicians?" I asked, rather stupidly.
"Murderers?" Matt suggested.
When he didn't answer, Mrs. Delancey spoke instead. "Men who like other men."
Ah. I had wondered if Mr. Hendry preferred men to women, but it seemed irrelevant to the investigation so I had not mentioned it to Matt. He didn't look shocked either, so I suspected he'd also guessed.
"So?" Matt said.
"It's not natural," Mr. Delancey muttered. "Men like that disgust me. I'd rather not have a stake in his business. I'd rather not have anything to do with him. I think we should get our stationery made elsewhere, too."
"No!" Mrs. Delancey cried. "Certainly not. He is the best, and I want only the best paper. Besides, he's a magician. I don't care what else he is."
"Well I do."
"Honestly," she muttered. "Where are your priorities? It's not as if he finds you attractive."
Her husband's face flushed crimson.
I looked to Matt, catching him trying hard not to smile. "How did you learn about his, er, preference for men?" I asked.
"My wife informed me only this morning," Mr. Delancey grumbled. "Even though she found out some time ago."
"I went to sample some new card stock a little while ago, and I saw Mr. Hendry with another man through his shop window," Mrs. Delancey said. "They weren't doing anything overt, if you understand my meaning. It was simply the way they stood with one another, the way their bodies were angled, their hands close but not touching. Their smiles were secretive, too, and rather sweet. Ordinary men do not smile at each other like that. I could tell they were lovers."