by C. J. Archer
Shadows darkened his eyes. "The problem is, I'm finding it hard to give her up. Wish I could have both. Some men do."
I touched his arm. "But you are not that sort of man, are you?"
As if he just remembered that he was speaking about his mistress to a woman he hardly knew, he became quite agitated, fidgeting with his tie and cuffs, and clearing his throat over.
To the relief of both of us, Matt appeared. I waved and he approached, smiling. It froze upon seeing our faces. I suspected Lord Farnsworth and I looked rather stunned by his intimate admission.
"I think we should go, India," Matt said. "There's nothing here that interests me today."
"Eh, what?" Lord Farnsworth asked, returning to his jovial self. "Not going to make a bid?"
"Not today."
"Pity. I was looking forward to testing your mettle. Think I'll stay a while longer, anyway." He took my hand and raised it to his lips. "Good day, Mrs. Glass. It has been rather…er…interesting."
Matt steered me out of Tattersalls onto Brompton Street with his hand at my lower back. It wasn't until we climbed inside our waiting carriage that he finally spoke.
"It wasn't Farnsworth who left that threatening note for the editor," he said. "He was here at that time, just as he claimed. I spoke with two attendants who saw him around six last Monday."
I sighed. "So if he's not the thief, who is? The Landers were at a friends' house at that time, their butler was fetching the doll from the post office, and Mrs. Rotherhide was getting ready for a dinner party. All of Lord Coyle's suspects can be accounted for."
"Except for one," Matt said thoughtfully. "We dismissed Whittaker after searching his place, but what if he keeps his collection elsewhere and the coronet is with it?"
"According to Mrs. Rotherhide, he keeps his two magical objects in the open," I said.
"She might not know if there's a secret collection."
"Are you sure your search was thorough?" I asked. "It was rather rushed."
"We didn't know how long we'd have," Matt agreed.
"You should look again. Tonight. I'm coming with you."
He arched his brows at me. "Was being the only female at Tattersalls not enough of a thrill for one day?"
"You have a strange notion of what thrills me. Tattersalls was a bore and Lord Farnsworth is a cowardly scoundrel as well as an idiot."
"Why cowardly?"
"He hasn't told Angelique that their arrangement must end soon." I rested my hand on his thigh. "So can I come tonight?"
"We don't even know if we can enter Sir Charles's house tonight. He might be home."
"I'm sure we'll think of something to get him out."
"Yes, you can come." He kissed my forehead. "Not that I could stop you."
Duke took Mrs. Rotherhide to the theater, and Cyclops was still spying on Lord Farnsworth, so Willie agreed to watch Sir Charles's house while we were inside and whistle if she saw him return. She grumbled about it all the way there.
"Why do I have to be watch?" she whined. "Why can't India?"
"Because it was my idea to go and Matt's my husband," I said. "Besides, you're a better whistler."
"And where's Duke, anyway? Out having a good time, that's where, leaving me stuck being lookout for you two." She took out her watch and checked the time. She couldn't see the dial in the dark so tried to catch the light as we passed a streetlamp, only to click her tongue when the light wasn't strong enough.
"It's ten to nine," I told her. "Or thereabouts."
She pocketed the watch. "Duke owes me. Cyclops too. I bet he's sneaking off with Catherine and not doing his duty watching that prissy lord."
"Catherine doesn't sneak about with men in the night," I said.
She grunted.
"Speaking of sneaking off at night," I added, "have you arranged to meet Angelique later?"
"Nope."
"Is she spending the evening with Lord Farnsworth?" I hadn't told Willie about Angelique soon becoming free. Matt advised me to wait. Willie might want to become Angelique's new benefactor in an attempt to rescue her, but she couldn't afford to keep her. He didn't want her to rush in only to get rejected. If Angelique wanted to be with Willie without making it a financial arrangement, then she could approach her without interference from us.
"I don't know what she's doing," Willie said. "She can do what she wants." She looked out the window, her arms crossed. "Is it far?"
We parked around the corner from Sir Charles's house and waited in the shadows across the street. At nine o'clock, Sir Charles's carriage rolled up. Five minutes later, Sir Charles climbed in and drove away. No one had seen him off and he'd locked the door himself. Our trick to get him out had worked. It felt like a victory.
It had been Matt's idea to write a note to Sir Charles asking him to meet at Sam's Chop House in South Kensington at nine-thirty. The chop house would still be open and South Kensington was far enough away that he would be gone for some time, even though he would probably leave when the author of the note failed to arrive. We had not signed it, but had hoped he would assume it was Mrs. Delancey and that he wanted to see her.
Matt quickly picked the lock on the front door with his tools and we slipped inside, leaving the door open a crack so we could hear Willie's warning. The house was dark and I carefully traversed the stairs, worried about tripping. Matt went on ahead and entered the parlor. He'd lit a lamp and turned it down to keep the light dim. He handed it to me and began tapping the walls, listening for hollow spaces where Sir Charles might keep his artifacts.
I held the lamp aloft. The fireplace and chimney seemed like good hiding places. The coals glowed in the grate like rubies in the sunshine. Perhaps it wasn't a good place, after all. Sir Charles wouldn't want to burn his collection.
The candlesticks on the mantelpiece caught my attention. One or both of these were magical, according to Mrs. Rotherhide. I touched one. Nothing. The same with the other.
I looked around the room and found the dog statuette on a side table. I rubbed the head. It held no magical warmth.
"Matt," I whispered, brandishing the statue. "It's not magical. Nor are either of the iron candlesticks."
He joined me. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. He lied to Mrs. Rotherhide. Do you think he didn't want her to know where he kept his real items so showed her these to satisfy her curiosity?"
"Perhaps, but why?"
I didn't have an answer to that.
Matt inspected the dog. "I think it's more likely he doesn't have a magical collection at all. He simply picked two items in here that he could tell her were magical. She wouldn't know any better."
"But he belongs to the collectors club! He must have a collection."
Willie's whistle pierced the air. Matt extinguished the lamp and peeked out the window down to the street. He swore under his breath. "His carriage is pulling up. We have to leave."
Leaving wasn't so easy when we were one floor up. We couldn't go out the front door or Sir Charles would see us. We had to head downstairs and leave through the back.
"The service stairs," I hissed and shoved him toward the corridor. The service stairs would be hidden in a wall panel and lead directly to the kitchen and other service rooms. From there, we could escape through the rear door to the courtyard.
We tiptoed across the corridor and pushed on wall panels. I prayed there were no loose, creaking floorboards.
The rumble of wheels on the street was the only sound. They were not arriving, but going. Sir Charles had already alighted. He would have noticed his front door ajar.
He would be alert for any sounds we made.
I glanced over my shoulder toward the staircase. Silence. There should be some footsteps at the least. If I'd come home and noticed the door ajar, I would have called out or made my presence known somehow to warn the burglars to leave and avoid a confrontation.
But I was not Sir Charles.
Matt found the door and pushed it open. He hustled me inside. With
my heart in my throat, I clutched the handrail and raced as quickly down the narrow stairs as I dared. At the bottom we paused to take stock of our location and to listen.
It was dark. I could just make out the shape of the doorway leading to the kitchen. A corridor led to our left and disappeared into the bowels of the house.
The way out.
The shadows near the kitchen moved. Something clicked.
I knew that sound. I'd heard Willie cock her gun enough times to know it. To dread it.
"Come out," said Sir Charles. "Or I'll shoot."
Chapter 14
Matt stood so close in front of me that I felt his body tense. If Sir Charles fired, the bullet would hit him. I couldn't risk him being shot, not even with his watch to save him. There was a very high chance that he would die instantly and no matter how quickly I placed his magic watch in his hand, I wouldn't be quick enough.
But knowing Matt, he wouldn't reveal our identities either. I was quite sure Sir Charles couldn't see our faces in the dark, just as we couldn't see his.
"What do you want?" Sir Charles snapped.
We remained silent.
"Tell me what you want and I won't shoot."
Matt's fingers found mine and squeezed. A warning to remain silent? Or to prepare to flee?
Hell and damnation, what should we do? If we revealed ourselves, surely Sir Charles wouldn't shoot us. But how to explain what we were doing there? I felt sick and hollow at the same time, and my nerves stretched to breaking point. I ran through every scenario in my head, but came up with only one way forward.
"Money," I whispered to disguise my voice.
Matt's fingers twisted with mine.
"No, you're not simple burglars after my silver," Sir Charles said. "You sent me away with an anonymous letter. I didn't fall for it, of course. I simply made it look as though I did. Your lookout is a good whistler, although he wasn't quick enough. He fled, by the way. Don't expect rescue from that quarter."
Matt's thumb rubbed mine, reassuring. I was anything but reassured.
The shadow that was Sir Charles stepped toward us. "Who are you and what do you want?" I could just make out his raised arm and the gun pointed at us.
How long could we remain silent before he shot us?
How long dare we remain silent before revealing ourselves?
Matt wouldn't do it. He would rely on the bullet not hitting him true in the heart and me placing the watch in his hand. I would not take that risk. Not ever.
I drew in a breath to speak.
The click of another gun cocking filled the dense silence. Willie! I knew she wouldn't abandon us.
"Put down your weapon," she commanded in a deep voice with a Cockney accent. I had not heard her approach.
Sir Charles hesitated.
"I said, put it down!"
His silhouette placed the gun on the floor.
"Kick it away," Willie said in that same masculine voice.
Sir Charles did so. "What do you want?" he pressed.
Matt took my hand and we raced along the corridor, away from Sir Charles and Willie. I didn't know how he could see in the dark. He'd only been this way once before, but somehow he found the back door. He slammed the bolt back and pushed the door open.
We raced across the courtyard, out of the gate and headed toward the street where Woodall waited with the carriage. Our footsteps pounded on the cobbles, giving away our position. I couldn't tell if Sir Charles followed us.
"Willie?" I gasped out between deep breaths.
"She'll be fine," Matt said.
We didn't break stride until we reached the carriage. Matt bundled me inside and I landed face-first on the seat. He helped me sit up.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes." I pressed a hand to my rapidly beating chest and tried to catch my breath. Matt sat opposite, his hands on my knees, watching me. His breathing was regular. In the dim light cast by the nearest streetlamp, I could just make out his ruffled hair, his bright eyes.
As my breathing steadied, I peered out the door. "Where is she?"
"She had further to run than us," he said.
She also had to escape from Sir Charles's house through the front door without him turning around and shooting her as she retreated. What if she had not escaped?
"We didn't hear a gunshot," Matt said, guessing the path my thoughts took.
He was right, and it was a small comfort, but there were other ways Sir Charles could stop her from leaving.
A figure overshot the corner, almost fell, and sprinted toward us.
"Thank God," I muttered, feeling light-headed with relief.
I flung the door wide open and Willie dove in.
The carriage took off at speed as Matt managed to wrangle the door closed. I peered through the rear window, but no one followed. Thank God. I sat back and blew out a breath.
Willie whooped, her teeth flashing white. "I needed that," she declared.
"I did not," I told her. "I'm still struggling to catch my breath."
"Lucky you didn't lace your corset tight or Matt would've had to carry your unconscious body." She laughed.
I crossed my arms, but I couldn't stay mad at her. She'd just saved us.
"You took a risk following him inside," I said.
"Calculated risk. It was dark in there. I don't think he guessed I was a woman."
"You were very convincing," I assured her. "You mimicked the Cockney accent perfectly."
"I've been practicing."
Matt leaned forward, elbows on knees, and raked his hand through his hair. "He guessed the letter was a fake. It was a bad idea. I should never have relied on it."
I cradled his face in my hands, forcing him to look up at me. "It was a good idea. I'm as surprised as you are that he guessed."
Willie slapped Matt on the back. "Don't worry. He won't figure out it was you two. Neither of you seem like the sort to break into houses, so I reckon you're safe. But now he's alert to intruders, it's going to be real hard to get in again."
Matt took my hands, kissed the back of one, and sat up straight. "We're not going to try again. If he has a magical collection, its location will have to remain a secret for now."
"If?" Willie echoed.
"According to India, there was no magic in the two objects he told Mrs. Rotherhide were magical. Either he didn't want her to know about his real magical items, or he doesn't have any."
Willie considered this with her arms crossed. At least, I thought she was considering it, but it turned out that she was thinking about our narrow escape. "There ain't nothing like a close-call to get the blood pumping. Duke and Cyclops'll be disappointed they missed all the fun."
"I'm glad it made you feel better," I said. "You seemed upset earlier."
She sighed. "You going to pester me, India?"
"Until you give in and tell us what's wrong."
"Ain't nothing wrong, it's just…it's Angel."
"Angelique L'Amour? What about her?"
"I like her. The problem is, even though she says she likes me, I don't think she does. Not the same way. Not the way I want."
"Don't worry about her," Matt said. "There are others who do like you the way you are."
"I know. I just don't like that she's trying to dupe me."
"Why would she try to dupe you?" I asked, all innocence. I didn't want her knowing Matt and I had already discussed this matter.
"To get me to be her benefactress," Willie went on. "She hasn't come out and said it, but I think that's what she's hoping. I can tell she's not used to being with a woman, and I can also tell she don't partic'ly like it. So I asked myself why she would pretend, and that's all I can think of."
"You haven't confronted her?"
"I want to be sure before I do."
"She must think you can afford her," Matt said.
"It ain't a matter of affording her," Willie said. "After our first time, she wouldn’t accept my money. I just don't want to pay for somet
hing I can get for free. I don't like her that much."
Matt's low chuckle was almost lost amid the rumble of wheels on the road.
"What's so funny?" Willie spat.
"I'm just glad you're immune to her charms," Matt said.
Willie gave an amused grunt. "Men might fall for her sweet talk, but not me."
"If she's shopping for another benefactor," I said, "that means she knows Lord Farnsworth is giving her up soon. He has told her. He lied to me. And that begs the question, what else has he lied to us about?"
The encounter at Sir Charles's house had shaken me, but I didn't want Matt to know. He would forbid from going with him on such adventures ever again. I awoke late, after tossing most of the night, to find I'd missed breakfast in the dining room. Polly Picket brought up a tray with eggs, toast and coffee to the small chamber off the bedroom. Matt joined me just as I was finishing.
"I sent Duke to Farnsworth's stables to fetch Cyclops home now that we know he couldn't have left the letter in the editor's desk," he said, sitting on the other chair. "He sent a message back to say he'll see out the day. He doesn't want to leave Farnsworth short-staffed."
"He's so thoughtful," I said. "Mr. and Mrs. Mason would be lucky to have him as a son-in-law. I do hope they come to see that."
"So do I. Cyclops doesn't say much, but I think he's in love with Catherine."
"And I think she's in love with him." I smiled and reached for his hand. "I'm so glad one of your friends is settling down here. Hopefully Willie and Duke will be just as content to stay and not long for California. I've been worried they would want to return to America."
He tilted his head and regarded me levelly. "You were worried they would want to go home or that I would want to follow?"
I picked up the coffee cup with both hands. "Do you like it here, Matt? I mean, not just because I'm here, but do you really like it?"
"I do. Have I ever said otherwise?"
"No, but I don't want to keep you from your home, from the place you love. You used to talk about returning to California."
"In the very early days. But London grew on me, as did the people." He smiled. "I like to find out what secrets they're hiding behind their manners and aloofness."
