The Spy Master's Scheme (Glass and Steele Book 12)

by C. J. Archer

  “Why?” Oscar asked.

  “India might like to write to them and offer some supporting words. As the most powerful magician in the city, some might know of her and look up to her.”

  I managed not to roll my eyes at him and continued to smile at Oscar.

  Oscar agreed it was a good idea. “I’ll collect them now, shall I?”

  “There’s no hurry,” I told him.

  He pushed himself to his feet. “I might as well. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

  I invited him to return with the letters at lunchtime and to eat with us. Willie and Duke were awake by then, and Aunt Letitia was in a good mood, having decided on an outfit to wear to Lady Rycroft’s soiree that evening.

  At the mention of the evening’s entertainment, Matt turned to me. “I feel a sore throat coming on.” He coughed for good measure.

  Considering the danger posed by him leaving the house, I was happy to go along with the ruse. “I’ll pass on your regrets.”

  Aunt Letitia patted his hand. “Do get an early night, dear boy. You’ll be missed.”

  “Thank you, Aunt.”

  “Only because it means there’ll be one less person I can rely on for good conversation. India and Davide being the others, of course.”

  Duke barked a laugh as he plucked a sandwich off the silver tray balanced on the tips of the footman’s fingers. “Farnsworth? Good conversation? Ha!”

  As usual, Willie chose the moment she shoved a sandwich into her mouth to speak. “At least you never know what he’ll say. Keeps you on your toes.”

  Oscar gave me the letters after lunch then departed at the same time as Chronos. I got the feeling both would have stayed longer if I hadn’t told them Matt and I had to go out. Oscar seemed to want company just as much Chronos.

  I spent the next little while seated at Matt’s desk, reading the letters and transcribing the names, addresses and a note about each writer’s magical craft to our list. He brought me a cup of tea twenty minutes later.

  “How many more?” he asked.

  “Four. These will double our list.” I picked up the teacup but didn’t sip. I regarded him over the rim. “I think I should inform Sir Charles today. It’s time the government knew of its existence.”

  Matt sat slowly, rubbing his jawline. “Very well. We’ll go when you finish those.”

  “You’re not coming with me, Matt.”

  “I am.”

  “I can handle Sir Charles without you. I’ve done it before.”

  “It’s nothing to do with how wily Sir Charles can be, and everything to do with—” He shut his mouth.

  “With what?”

  He shrugged as he stared down at the desk.

  “With what, Matt?”

  He sighed. “With me wanting to get out of this damned house!”

  I stood and rounded the desk then sat on his lap. I looped my arms around his neck. “I know you’re bored, but you need to stay indoors until the shooter is caught.”

  He settled his hands on my hips. “And how will we catch him? The police investigation led nowhere. We have no clues. We need to draw him out and that won’t happen if I stay in here, hiding away.”

  He was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it. He’d leap at the opportunity to leave the house, and I wasn’t ready for him to risk his life again. Not yet. But I knew that day must come. Matt couldn’t go on like this.

  I stroked my thumb along his cheek. “Is it really worth getting into an argument with me over a simple outing? Save it for something really important. If we’re going to have a falling out, it should at least be over something of vital importance.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “That’s the most persuasive case you can come up with?”

  “Yes.”

  He glared at me so I kissed him lightly on the lips. When I pulled away, he sighed.

  “Very well, I’ll stay here and choose an outfit for you to wear to Aunt Beatrice’s soiree.” If any more sarcasm dripped from his tone, I would have drowned.

  I stood and returned to the other side of the desk. “Thank you. Don’t forget jewelry.”

  He sighed again, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Take Willie and Duke with you.”

  “I will.”

  “And don’t let Sir Charles bully you into giving up the location of the list or who knows of its existence.”

  “I won’t.”

  “And press upon him that this is for his superiors’ ears only, not Coyle’s.”

  “I will.”

  “Make him promise you and get him to shake on it. He’s a gentleman; a handshake still means something to him.”

  I glanced at him over the rim of my teacup. “Anything else?”

  “Make sure he knows I’ll come for him if I find out that Coyle knows.”

  “I will put as much threat into it as possible. Or Willie will.”

  “And—”

  “Matt! I know what I’m doing.” I pointed at the door. “Go.”

  He rose and strode off without uttering another word, although I could practically see steam rising from his ears. He would calm down soon. He was only angry because he was worried about me. Not that either of us considered Sir Charles an enemy, but he wasn’t a friend either. We weren’t entirely sure if he could be trusted. We were taking a leap of faith in informing him about the list.

  But we’d agreed to do it, if for no other reason than it would prove if he was working for Coyle as well as the government. We had suspected he was feeding Coyle secret information ever since we’d overhead them talking in the garden outside Coyle’s house.

  We would know soon enough. If Coyle came for the list after we informed Sir Charles of its existence, we’d have our answer.

  I studied the next letter, written by a carpenter magician. Even though we weren’t giving the list to anyone, and never would, I worried that we were putting these people in danger just by adding their names.

  Chapter 3

  I called on Sir Charles at dusk and was pleased to see he was at his Hammersmith lodgings. Since I didn’t know where his office was located, or if he even had one, I was never quite sure whether he’d be at home. He received Duke, Willie and me in the parlor, located on the first floor of the building where he rented rooms. He asked the landlady to bring tea and cake. As she closed the door, he eyed Willie carefully.

  “Are you carrying a gun, Miss Johnson?”

  She pulled her jacket aside to show him the revolver tucked into the waistband of her buckskin trousers. “I’m as good a shot as Annie Oakley, and just as quick, so don’t do anything stupid.”

  His eyes widened. “What do you think I’m going to do?”

  “Willie is just being cautious,” I said. “Don’t mind her.”

  “Unless you do something stupid,” she chimed in. “Then you should mind me.”

  Duke cracked his knuckles.

  Sir Charles fidgeted with his tie and stretched his neck out of his collar. It was the most ruffled I’d ever seen him. “This isn’t a social call, is it?”

  “No.” I sat on the sofa. “I have some information for you that I’d like you to pass on to your superiors.”

  “My superiors?”

  “Don’t be coy, Sir Charles.”

  While he had not admitted that he was a spy for the government, he ceased denying it last time we confronted him. He didn’t deny it this time, either, and simply sat and flicked imaginary lint off his trousers as he waited for me to continue.

  “We established that you are attempting to gather as much information about magicians as you possibly can. To what end, we can only guess since you won’t tell us.”

  “I don’t have the authority to tell you.”

  “Then perhaps it’s time you introduce us to someone who does.” It wasn’t an idea Matt and I had discussed but I liked it, nevertheless.

  “That won’t be possible,” Sir Charles said with a condescending tone. “Men like him don’t talk to just a
nyone.”

  “I’m the most powerful magician in England, and I have some information for him. I think he’ll want to meet me.”

  “What information?”

  “I’ve made a list of known magicians. Known to me, that is. The list can be consulted by either me or Matt when there is a disturbance of the public order created by a magician’s magic, such as we experienced with both Amelia Moreton and Mrs. Trentham.”

  The landlady entered carrying a tray which she set on the table before backing out of the room again. She shut the door and Sir Charles poured the tea.

  “Mr. Duke, if you’d be so kind as to wait outside on the landing. My landlady has a tendency to dawdle.”

  Duke opened the door to see the landlady bent in half, her ear approximately where the keyhole would be when the door was closed. She blushed scarlet and scurried away. Duke exited the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Who does she work for?” I asked.

  “The government, the same as me,” Sir Charles said. “My superior doesn’t trust anyone. She tells him who comes and goes from here and listens in when she can.” He handed me a cup of tea with a smile. “She knows that I know.”

  Willie approached the table and helped herself to a slice of fruit cake. “He’s right not to trust you, considering you got history with Coyle.”

  Sir Charles bristled. “I don’t work for Coyle.”

  “We saw you talking to him,” I said. “You passed information about me to him.”

  “Once, India. Just the once.”

  “Once is enough for me to distrust you when it comes to Coyle.”

  He handed me a plate with a slice of cake. “Will you never forgive me for that?”

  “Let’s return to the topic of my list.”

  He settled back in the chair with his cup of tea, the saucer balancing on his knee. “We’re not interested in your list. We have our own.”

  “Which I doubt is complete and, let’s be honest, I’m in a position to add more names at a much more rapid rate than you.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of breaking the trust of your fellow magicians?”

  “I am not handing the list over, Sir Charles. Let’s be clear about that. The list and all the information contained on it will be for my eyes only. If I deem it necessary for the information to be shared with the police or any other authority, I will pass on only what is relevant, not the entire list.”

  “I’m not sure that will be acceptable to my superiors.”

  “It’s a non-negotiable condition. I won’t have magicians spied upon just because the government deems all of them are a potential threat. Innocent people shouldn’t be subjected to invasive scrutiny. Only the details of those who wield magic as a weapon will be shared.”

  He sipped thoughtfully.

  “We know you have been trying to find out who the magicians are,” I went on. He didn’t deny it, so I continued. “To do that thoroughly, you need my help.”

  He set the teacup on the saucer and placed them both on the table beside him. “The release of Barratt’s book has expedited the issue somewhat. Now that the general public are aware of magicians, and considering they know that Mrs. Trentham used magic to kill her husband, there is growing support to keep them under control.”

  “Tosh. For starters, they know no such thing. The official stance was that she murdered him of her own accord. Officially, there was no mention of magic.”

  “If you think the public believe the official stance, then you are naïve, India.”

  He was probably right about the public’s suspicions. “And secondly, I haven’t seen a growing support to control magicians. The public seems quite enthused about magic. It’s the artless members of guilds who are rioting, afraid of losing custom.”

  “Can you blame them?”

  “No,” I said heavily. “Believe me, if a happy middle ground could be found, I’d prefer it. If only the guilds would allow magicians to belong so they could continue to trade. Magic doesn’t last, and once the public know that, they’ll show no preference for magical wares over artless ones.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “It may not last, but they are naturally of superior quality. India, the guilds won’t give up without a fight.”

  “Then perhaps it’s time the guilds were dissolved. The system is an archaic one, anyway.”

  He picked up his teacup and sipped as he thought. When he set it down again, his gaze was distant, his voice soft. “I feel as though the city is balanced on a knife’s edge.”

  “As do I.”

  I stood and signaled to Willie it was time to go. She drained her teacup and stood too. “Good day, Sir Charles,” I said. “Please speak to your superior about the list at your earliest convenience, and don’t forget my condition.” I headed for the door but paused. “And do not inform Lord Coyle.”

  His nostrils flared. “I don’t work for him.”

  “And yet I feel the need to say it anyway.”

  He looked away.

  I opened the door and strode off, Willie and Duke at my heels.

  Matt had chosen an elegant outfit in cream silk that seemed to shimmer in the light, with embroidered black ribbon detail around the hem and clusters of small rosettes. Knowing I preferred a simple style, he’d also chosen a pearl pendant and matching pearl drop earrings. Polly Pickett, the lady’s maid I shared with Aunt Letitia, put my hair up in an elegant arrangement with a string of seed pearls twined through it.

  I felt elegant and sophisticated as I entered the Rycrofts’ drawing room. But my mood quickly sank at the sight of the ladies dressed in bold colors and elaborate jewelry. I suddenly wished I’d pretended to be sick as well. I felt quite out of place. I hardly knew a soul, but thankfully Aunt Letitia remained at my side and introduced me to several people. She was in her element, chatting breezily with no sign of her frailty.

  “Ah, there you are, India,” Lady Rycroft said as she glided toward me. “Lord Farnsworth isn’t here yet, but never mind. We’ll do our best to entertain ourselves without him.” Even as she said it, she glanced at the doorway, no doubt hoping he’d walk through so she could begin her matrimonial machinations.

  “Perhaps he’s not coming,” Aunt Letitia said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “Of course he is. He’s very much looking forward to talking to Charity tonight. He made it quite clear yesterday that he found her charming.”

  I spotted Charity near the potted palm, a brooding scowl on her face. She wore a black dress with a lot of black lace trim, even though she wasn’t in mourning, and black jet jewels to match. While she stood with two other people, she didn’t appear to be joining in with their conversation. Instead, she glared at the doorway.

  Aunt Letitia followed my gaze to her niece. “She looks as cheerful as always.”

  Lady Rycroft cleared her throat and seemed to become aware that our conversation was being overheard by two other women. “Have you met my nephew’s wife?” She all but pushed me toward them. “She’s a magician, you know.”

  I swallowed my gasp before it escaped, but Aunt Letitia did not.

  “Beatrice,” she scolded.

  “Well, it’s true.” Lady Rycroft beamed at her friends as they regarded me with smiles. “India makes the most marvelous watches and clocks.”

  “No, I don’t,” I told them. “Not anymore.”

  It was quite an odd situation. Lady Rycroft had been such a snob toward me when I’d first entered their lives. She considered Matt far above me. Yet now that magic had become popular among her set, she was happy to parade me before them.

  One of the ladies leaned forward and whispered, “But surely you still do commissions for select clients.”

  I gave her my sweetest smile. “I’m afraid not.”

  The woman’s lips pursed. “But—"

  “Lord Farnsworth is here!”

  His lordship paused in the doorway until as many people as possible had seen him. His timing was immaculate, as was his evening a
ttire of white tie, waistcoat and black tailcoat. He wore his hair in the usual style, parted down the middle and flat to his head. It gleamed with Macassar Oil.

  Lady Rycroft swept across the room to collect him. Being a very eligible bachelor, he was immediately swamped by three young women who’d been pushed in his direction by their mothers. Lady Rycroft glared at Charity and jerked her head toward his lordship in a signal to hurry.

  Lord Farnsworth relished the attention. He looked like a king surrounded by sycophantic courtiers. I wasn’t sure if Charity would continue to be as appealing as she had been. I also doubted that boredom would be a problem this evening.

  There was no opportunity to speak to him before the musicians started. I sat with Aunt Letitia on one side of me and a gentleman on the other. I’d been introduced to him earlier in the evening, and immediately liked him when he’d diverted the conversation away from magic. Ever since Lady Rycroft had announced that I was a magician, I’d found myself even more popular than Lord Farnsworth. I did not enjoy my popularity, however, and was grateful when the gentleman urged the other guests not to annoy me as I clearly wasn’t interested in using my magic on anyone’s watch that night.

  During a bold rendition of Home Sweet Home, he leaned toward me and whispered, “Mrs. Glass, I have a proposition for you.”

  My heart sank. So much for my savior.

  “My wife is very keen for me to secure you for our magical evening, to be held at the end of the month.”

  “As I said earlier, I am not selling anything. I no longer make watches.”

  He flicked his hand, dismissing my objection as if it were nothing. “We don’t want to buy anything from you, just have a demonstration of your magic. It’ll be an evening with a few of our intimate friends who will bring along their watches or clocks for your performance.”

  I very much wanted to round on him and talk loudly to embarrass him, but in deference to the musicians, I kept my voice as low as his. “My response to your offer is no different to the others I received tonight: no.”

  “But it will be an exclusive, tasteful affair, nothing vulgar.”