by C. J. Archer
“I am not insinuating.”
Her nostrils flared. “I have his best interests at heart. I believe my fiancé would be happier if he was able to use his magic openly and not hide it away.”
“And I happen to believe my wife would be happier if she was alive.” He held his hand out to me. “Shall we, India?”
I appealed to Oscar who sat beside Louisa on the sofa, looking like he wished he was not the subject of the conversation. I quite agreed with the sentiment.
“Let’s not argue about this,” I told them. “We’ll never agree. For now, the important thing is that Sir Charles knows Oscar is giving up the notion of writing a book on magic. To that end, I’d be happy to come to your party, Louisa.”
She rang for the butler to show us out.
Once in the carriage, I snuggled into Matt. “Poor Oscar. He looked somewhat lost tonight. And not simply because of the threat to his safety. Louisa is dictating his life and I suspect he doesn’t particularly like it.”
Matt settled the blanket over my lap then wrapped his arm around me. “Then he should break off their engagement. Gentlemanly conduct be damned. If she won’t agree to it, then he has to force her to sever the arrangement any way he can. I’d rather someone removed my heart with a blunt knife than be stuck with her for the rest of my life.”
“That is quite a vivid picture. A horrid picture, but a vivid one.”
“They bring out the horrid artist in me.” He touched my chin, urging me to look up at him. “On the other hand you, my dear wife, bring out the best in me. Now kiss me to restore my good nature.”
I sighed theatrically. “Very well. For everyone’s benefit, bring those lips closer.”
Matt offered to come with me to call on Fabian the following day, but I declined. I couldn’t lean on his charming manner—or his forceful one—whenever I encountered a prickly situation. Besides, Fabian was my friend and colleague rather than Matt’s. It would be better if I talked to him alone.
He greeted me with his customary kiss to both cheeks then invited me into the sitting room where we usually conducted our experiments. “The flying carpet was a great success, was it not?” he said with bright-eyed enthusiasm. “Very frightening too, but you directed it with much skill, India. Your magic is a wonder. I am excited to see what else you can do.”
“Fabian, we need to talk.”
“Sit, sit. Let us talk and have tea.” He signaled to the butler to fetch refreshments. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I wasn’t staying long. “What shall we experiment with next?” he asked after the butler left. “I do not think flying magic is a challenge for you now, or I would suggest you try to make a book fly, or a statue. You could try with something large and heavy. Perhaps a boat.”
“No, Fabian.”
“I agree.” He wagged a finger in the air. “No more flying objects. Then what shall we try next? Something exotic, yes? Not maps coming to life; we do not want water flowing off the pages and drowning people.” He wagged his finger again. “Water! What if we make it flow uphill? We could bring water where there is drought, and turn desserts into oases.”
“Wouldn’t we need a water magician for that? Is there such a thing as a water magician?” I stopped myself before I became too enthused by the notion.
“Perhaps we should ask Chronos your grand-père for ideas,” he said.
“Fabian, before we get too far ahead of ourselves, there’s something I need to tell you.”
He smiled. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to create any more spells.”
The smile wilted. His face sagged and the light left his eyes. “Cherie, what are you saying?”
“I know this will come as a shock, but I can’t let it go on. Our spells are dangerous and I don’t want to create any more.”
“Dangerous? But you controlled the carpet’s flight.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant people want the spells and might do terrible things to get them.”
“But we have promised one another not to give them away or sell them. They are safe, locked away.”
“Until they are stolen, or until someone forces us to give them up. If the events with Amelia Moreton have taught me anything it’s that I’m vulnerable. I have loved ones who will be threatened to force me to give up the spells.”
“But she is dead. She cannot harm you again.”
“There’ll be others. Perhaps not tomorrow or next week, but one day. It’s too risky to continue, Fabian. Come now, you must see the dangers outweigh the benefits. After all, who will benefit from a flying carpet?”
“It does not matter! It matters that you have created a new spell.”
I sighed. “My decision is final. There’ll be no more experimenting. I’m sorry, Fabian.”
“Non!” He rattled off something in French. I didn’t need to understand the words to know their meaning. He was angry.
“I know you’ve adjusted your entire life so you could come to England and work with me. That’s why this was such a difficult decision to make.”
“Then do not make it!” He thumped his fist on the chair arm and gave his head a violent shake.
“If you think about the consequences, you will see the dangers too,” I said. “We can’t keep our spells a secret forever. Not with the likes of Lord Coyle circling, waiting for us to reveal them to him.”
“He is just one man. Your husband will protect you from him.”
“He shouldn’t have to. That’s the point.” I drew in a breath to calm my temper. It wouldn’t do to get angry at Fabian. He was disappointed in me and was going to say things he would later regret. I mustn’t take it personally. “There will be others. Lord Coyle is a threat for now, but there will be other interested parties once word gets out.”
He spoke in French again, appealing to both me and the ceiling rose. At least his tone was more frustrated than angry this time. I let him go on until he finally returned to English. He suddenly sat forward and grasped my hand. “You are born to be a spell maker, India. It is in your blood. Strong magic flows through you. If you deny it, you will suffer, like a rose starved of sunlight. Do not do this. Do not give up.”
It was a little dramatic but I refrained from saying so. He was upset, and French.
“My decision is made, Fabian.” I got up to leave. “It’s for the best—for you, me and the wider world. We are safer if we give up spell casting.”
He shot to his feet. “There is another way.”
“How?”
The light had returned to his eyes and the smile to his face. “We say we are giving up but continue in secret.”
My heart sank. The parallel to the conversation of the night before with Louisa and Oscar was uncanny. Matt had made his point rather vehemently there; it was my turn to make it here.
“Someone will discover the truth eventually,” I said sadly. “They’ll see me coming here, or see you visiting me at home. Besides, the spells themselves will exist, and that is the greatest danger. If they are stolen and used for nefarious purposes—”
“What purposes? Who will use a flying carpet spell that only you can control?”
“A wool magician might learn to control it using my spell,” I said. “And what if the enemies of the country ordered that magician to fly the carpet over our cities with bombs? Indeed, our own government might not be able to resist such a tempting weapon. Imagine the destruction. I cannot stomach being the creator of such a weapon. Can you?”
He closed his eyes as if in pain and heaved a deep sigh. “This is Matt’s idea, yes?”
“I’m capable of coming to the conclusion on my own without my husband influencing me.”
“Of course. I am sorry, India. My mind is racing, and my heart too.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I do not know what to say.”
“It’s a shock.”
“Oui, a shock.”
“I hope it won’t affect our friendship.”
“No, no. Of course not.” He took one
of my hands between his and bowed over it. “We are connected. Our friendship is special because there are no two magicians like us. I will always value you, India.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
“But this decision…it affects my whole life. A future without you making spells with me…it is impossible to think about. But I must think about it.”
“I know. And as your friend, I want to encourage you not to make life-changing decisions too soon. There is no urgency for you to leave London. Perhaps you’ll even consider staying permanently. The city has much to offer an entrepreneurial gentleman such as yourself.”
He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I will not make sudden changes, I promise. But without you and our spells, I do not see the point in staying. It is a fine city, but it is not Paris.”
“If there’s anything Matt and I can do, let me know.”
He bowed again. “I apologize again for my behavior just now.”
“You’re forgiven. You were upset.”
“Ah, yes, but I suggested that Matt made the decision for you, and that is not fair. You are a strong woman and capable of making decisions alone. It is something I have always admired about you.” He kissed the back of my hand. “I will see you soon, non?”
“No. I mean yes, you will. Tonight in fact, if you accept Louisa’s invitation. She asked me to press upon you her desire to see you at her gathering.”
“If you will be there then I will endure her company.” He winced. “I know that is cruel to say, but she is very forceful.”
“Forceful?”
“I think she still wants to marry me.”
“But she’s engaged to Oscar.”
He merely shrugged. “She has not asked or mentioned it again since I tell her no, but…it is just a feeling I get when I am near her. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “It does.”
Poor Oscar.
Or perhaps not. He wasn’t in love with Louisa, and knew she didn’t love him in return. He knew she was marrying him for his magic and shouldn’t be despondent if she tried to marry a more powerful magician instead.
Still, it would hurt his masculine pride if not his heart. No man liked to be rejected for another, even when he wasn’t in love. While Oscar’s reasons for marrying Louisa were equally avaricious, he didn’t deserve to be treated so poorly by his fiancée.
I’d tell her as much tonight.
Willie insisted on coming to the meeting with Matt and me, even though she hadn’t been invited. It was such an unthinkable thing to do that we didn’t tell Aunt Letitia in case she had one of her episodes. I didn’t feel all that comfortable committing such a grave social sin either, but I agreed. The more people supporting me at these events, the better. Willie said she wanted to keep an eye on everyone’s reactions when Oscar announced he was giving up on the book, but I suspected she really went for the food.
Louisa put on a wonderful spread of cakes, sandwiches, and tarts, but I couldn’t be tempted to eat. I was too busy trying to avoid people. At the top of my list were Hope and Lord Coyle. Fortunately Lord Farnsworth took it upon himself to engage me in conversation upon arrival.
“I’m very close to discovering who informed the Masons about your man and Miss Mason,” he whispered after beckoning me to a corner of the room.
“It has taken you some time,” I said.
He shushed me then glanced around. Nobody could have overheard yet he continued to whisper. “There have been developments.”
“Oh? Do go on.”
He tapped the side of his nose. “Not yet. I must confirm my suspicions. I’ll call on you the day after tomorrow and reveal all.”
“That’s Christmas day.”
“Is it? How extraordinary. I appear to have lost an entire two days somewhere. I blame late nights and too much fine liquor.”
“Perhaps you ought not drink as much if you’re losing entire days.”
“My dear Mrs. Glass, I must! How else am I to get answers?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I must ply suspects and witnesses with the good stuff if I want them to talk. Nothing cheap.” He pulled a face. “Can’t stomach cheap stuff, and since I must partake too, only the best will do.”
“You’re getting the Rycroft servants drunk?”
“Not just them.” He glanced around again then leaned in. “So the day after tomorrow?”
“It’s Christmas day,” I reminded him.
He frowned. “Didn’t we have this conversation already? Yes, it’s Christmas Day. So?”
“So don’t you have to be with your family?”
“What family?” he asked, quite innocently.
“Oh. I am sorry, my lord, I thought you must have siblings or cousins or someone to dine with at Christmas.”
“I’m an only child, my cousins only talk to me when they need money, my father’s dead, and my mother’s in an asylum near the old family pile. I hardly ever go there.”
“I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. The servants have the run of the place and are quite happy for me to make a rare appearance to visit the tenants, look over the property, that sort of thing. They wouldn’t know what to do if I showed up for Christmas and it hardly seems fair to turn the place upside down just for me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself laughing. He looked quite serious. “I meant I’m sorry about your mother. I didn’t know she was in an asylum.” He had once mentioned her appreciation for fairies, so I wasn’t surprised, but I’d assumed she was dead.
He gave me a sympathetic look, as if I were the one whose mother was mad. “It’s quite all right. No need to feel sorry for me. She doesn’t even recognize me.”
I wasn’t sure how that made it better, but he seemed to think it did. “Would you like to join us for Christmas dinner?” I asked.
He beamed. “Oh, Mrs. Glass, that is most generous. Most generous indeed. You make me feel like one of the family.” He touched the corner of his eye with his little finger, but it looked dry to me. “I heartily accept your invitation.” He bowed. “Thank you.”
Willie joined us, her gaze studiously ahead. “Don’t look, but Hope is coming this way. Prepare yourselves.”
Lord Farnsworth glanced around. “Ah, the new Lady Coyle. I say, she made a good match. Lucky girl.”
“A good match!” Willie hissed. “He’s ancient! If anyone made a good match, it’s him.”
“Yes, but being ancient and rather unhealthy, he’ll be dead within a decade and she’ll inherit everything, including his remarkable magical collection. That alone is worth a fortune.” He plastered a smile on his face and bowed deeply as Hope drew close. “Good evening, Lady Coyle. That outfit is very becoming on you. Not everyone can wear that shade of green.”
She stroked her hand across the front of her skirt as she regarded it. I wanted to congratulate Lord Farnsworth for making her feel self-conscious without even trying. It was a thing I’d never achieved.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must speak to Matt about something,” I said.
He had been accosted by Lord Coyle at the same moment as Hope had joined us. It would seem their two-pronged attack was designed to keep us apart. Poor Matt had no one with him to divert attention elsewhere. I at least had Willie and Lord Farnsworth, although I wasn’t sure how beneficial they’d be.
“Just a moment.” Hope laid a hand on my arm. “I wanted to ask you about the carpet ride.”
“The what?”
“Yes, the what?” Lord Farnsworth echoed.
“You know what I mean, India,” she chided. “We saw you.” She glanced at Lord Farnsworth. “Shall we talk somewhere quietly?”
“No, you may not,” Willie said. “Whatever you think you saw is wrong. It was a trick of the light. An experiment with ropes and pulleys. Nothing more.”
Hope arched her brows. “India? You were not working on a fireworks spell as you claimed, were you? It was wool, or ca
rpet to be precise.”
There was no point trying to convince her they hadn’t witnessed a magical flying carpet. It had been broad daylight and they’d been standing almost directly below us. I wasn’t going to engage her further on the matter, however.
“We won’t be discussing anything with you,” I said. “Not about this or anything else. Good evening.”
Her grip on my arm tightened. “My husband is currently discussing the very same thing with your husband. As you can imagine, he’s very keen to negotiate terms to purchase the very first magical flying carpet for his collection. He’ll want the original, of course, but I’m here to tell you that if you can’t part with it, he’ll accept another as long as it can fly too.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But don’t tell him I said that.”
I wrenched free, but before I could say anything, Willie spoke.
“If he wants to negotiate, he should talk to India. It was her experiment, not Matt’s, and she’s capable of saying no to Coyle just as well as Matt is. As an independent and strong woman, I’d expect you to have more respect for India than that.”
Hope’s spine stiffened. “This is a business matter.”
“So?”
“Discussions about money are best left to the men.”
Willie snorted. “I don’t for a minute think you believe that. You’re as capable of being as manipulative and devious in business as Coyle. You’ve had enough practice at the manipulative and devious part as anyone.”
“Isn’t that why she’s here?” Lord Farnsworth pointed out. “Talking to Mrs. Glass in case Coyle’s efforts fail? Or perhaps attempting to sweeten Mrs. Glass so she’ll override her husband if he refuses, which he will.” He nodded at Matt, looking like thunder as he spoke to Coyle. “Do you think they’ll fight, Willie?”
“It won’t be a contest if they do,” she said. “Matt’s a skilled pugilist. Although Coyle looks like he won’t topple easily.”
Lord Farnsworth chuckled.
“I don’t care whether you or your husband want the carpet,” I said to Hope. “It’s been destroyed. The contraption can’t be operated by anyone but me and is therefore useless.”
