The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  Brantley pulled me to him and kissed me, hard. It took everything I had not to recoil as he mashed his lips against mine. He was not a good kisser. I’d kissed boys who were bold and boys who were nervous, but Brantley ... he acted as if I was nothing more than a slattern. I felt a hot flash of anger as he tugged me towards the sofa, his hands already fiddling with my dress. Any qualms I might have had about taking advantage of him vanished like dew on a sunny morning. How dare he?

  You could have said no at any moment, I reminded myself, dryly. And instead you chose to let him think you were interested.

  I braced myself as he sat on the sofa and pulled me onto his lap, then cast the charm as our lips met again. Brantley was hardly defenceless - he’d woven a handful of protective spells around himself - but I could bypass most of them simply by touching his bare skin. And the charm itself was very subtle, hard to fight off and harder still to break once it took effect. I smirked, remembering late night sessions in the dorms where the prefects had taught the younger girls charms to protect themselves when young men went a little too far. I could have turned him into a frog, or given him a very nasty shock, or simply stopped him in his tracks ... and it would have been perfectly legal. It was supposed to be hard, we’d been told, to cast the spells unless there was a serious threat to our lives or our virtues. Brantley fell back, a dazed expression crossing his face. I smirked. The charm would let him think he’d had his way with me. His imagination would fill the gaps in his memory.

  And make it harder for him to suspect anything bad happened, I thought, as I stood and brushed down my dress. My lips felt as if they were covered in slime. He won’t want to think anything else.

  I put the thought aside as I carefully reached out with my mind, assessing the charms surrounding the room. There was a simple privacy ward, nestled within the house wards, and a locking spell on the door that promised to keep the rest of the world out for hours. I smiled and walked over to the desk, keeping my senses open. There were a handful of locking charms on each of the drawers, so many of them layered together that they were actually interfering with each other. I allowed myself a smile - it was clear Brantley hadn’t gone to Grayling’s - as I started to work. Brantley had bragged of his skill in magic, but the charms on his desk had been put together by rote. It was surprisingly easy to weaken them to the point I could pull the first drawer open.

  My heart sank as I surveyed the paperwork. The papers were scattered so badly that there was no obvious order, if indeed there was an order at all. My eyes narrowed as I caught sight of a marriage contract between Brantley and Lady Saline ... he had a marriage contract and he’d risked making love to me? I rolled my eyes. The match had probably been arranged, but that didn’t excuse humiliating one’s fiancée in public. I told myself, firmly, it was none of my business as I worked my way through the rest of the drawers. It was hard to escape the impression I’d risked everything, for nothing. Brantley didn’t seem to have any real power or influence, beyond the little that came with being an adult aristocrat. I cursed under my breath as I glared at his slumbering form. I wanted to give him a real curse. The prefects had taught me those too.

  I opened the next drawer and peered at the letters. They were surprisingly alike, even though they came from different people. My eyes narrowed as I read a dozen polite rejections ... rejections of what? It looked as if Brantley had tried to recruit his fellow students ... for what? Reading between the lines, it sounded as if his fellow students had had enough of Brantley while they’d been at school. I knew how they felt. There’d been girls at school I never wanted to see again. I memorised the names, intending to look them up as soon as I had a moment. Brantley would have gone to Jude’s. His classmates would be listed in the school yearbooks.

  One letter references potion brewing, I mused, as I put the letters back in the drawer. Was he trying to recruit potioneers?

  I shrugged, then opened the final drawer. It was something I’d have to consider later. The last drawer held a collection of title deeds, all issued and charmed by Magus Court. I blinked in surprise, feeling - for the first time since I’d charmed Brantley into quiescence - as if I’d hit paydirt. The title deeds had to belong to Brantley. He wouldn’t have kept them in his desk if they weren’t his. I scanned them quickly, laying them on the gilt-edged desk. Brantley was steadily buying up a whole string of properties in Water Shallot ... a whole block of properties. It wasn’t obvious until I looked at them as a group. Brantley had laid claim to an entire city block. No, not an entire city block. A couple of properties were still out of his grasp. And that meant ...

  He was bragging about making a killing in property, I reminded myself. I’d dismissed it as worthless nonsense when we’d been dancing, but maybe he’d been telling the truth ... I allowed myself a smirk. Wonders would never cease. What is he doing?

  I sat on his sinfully-comfortable chair - it felt like a throne - and went through the documents for the second time. The properties were definitely all connected. If one person held the title deeds to them all, he could practically set whatever price he liked. The demand was much higher than the supply, particularly as the title deeds included the land as well as the buildings. I made a careful note of the address, intending to look the remaining properties up as soon as possible. If I got my hands on them, Brantley would have to pay through the nose if he wanted them. And I had a feeling he’d be reluctant to pressure Magus Court to seize the land. Even if compensation was paid, it would open a whole new can of worms.

  Brantley moaned. I glanced at him as I hastily returned the documents to the drawer and rebuilt the charms. I’d done it before at school, although I hadn’t always been successful. A couple of older girls had detected me, I was sure, and sought revenge rather than ratting me out to the teachers. I was fairly sure that was where some of the nastier hexes had come from ... I shook my head. As far as Brantley knew, we’d spent the last half-hour making out. He wouldn’t want to think otherwise. I felt a moment of sympathy for Lady Saline. She didn’t deserve to be wedded to him. I didn’t know anyone who did.

  Except possibly Marlene, I thought. But Marlene has enough magic to keep him in line.

  I finished rebuilding the charms, then stood and looked around the room. There were no filing cabinets, no hidden safes ... the only object of interest was a giant drinks cabinet. I opened it and peered inside, snorting as I saw the small collection of expensive wines and potions. He’d spent more money on alcohol than I could afford to spend on just about everything. I shrugged and closed the cabinet, then headed back to Brantley. It was time to bring him out of the trance. I tried not to look disgusted as I sat on his lap and carefully undid the spell. I couldn’t risk his memory being jarred. It might lead him to question everything he thought to be true.

  Brantley shifted against me. “You’re good. You’re very good.”

  “Thanks.” I tried to sound as if I’d had a good time. “You’re very good too.”

  There was a sharp knock on the door. I jumped back, nearly falling on my rump. Brantley caught my arm as the knock came again, his eyes flickering from side to side as he tried to find a place to hide me. Whoever was on the far side wasn’t going to go away in a hurry. The knocking was too authoritative to be anyone but a senior aristocrat. A servant would never have knocked so hard. Brantley’s eyes widened in near-panic. There was no washroom, no wardrobe, nowhere he could hide me ... I nearly smiled. In hindsight, the lack of any such facilities was a fairly clear sign he was nowhere near as important as he claimed.

  Brantley jabbed a finger at me, casting a spell. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out - or trying to fight the spell - as the world shrunk around me. It was hardly the first time I’d been turned into something, but ... I felt my vision shift and blur as the magic took hold. I could neither move nor speak. He’d turned me into ... I wasn’t sure what. An object, obviously ... I forced myself to wait, even as he picked me up and put me in his pocket. It was good thinking on his part, I su
pposed. He couldn’t leave me in the room alone.

  “Brantley,” a voice said. Female, old enough to issue orders and expect them to be obeyed ... his mother? Or auntie? “Why aren’t you downstairs?”

  “I got bored of dancing,” Brantley said. “And I came upstairs to do some work.”

  I was morbidly impressed. His tone was languid, without even a hint of resentment he’d been interrupted. I guessed he’d learnt to dissemble young, just like me. There was nothing like boarding school to teach you how to pretend it didn’t hurt, even if it did. Weakness was ... well, weakness. A weakling had no friends, for fear it might rub off.

  “Work,” the voice repeated. “And what work is so important you neglect your duty to the family?”

  I felt Brantley shifting angrily as he spoke. “I want to make something of myself ...”

  “Which you will, by serving the family,” the voice said. “These are trying times. We’ve given you tasks to do and you haven’t done them. House Aguirre already has too big an advantage. We needed the contacts you bragged you had.”

  My mind raced. Contacts? Contacts for what? Potions? House Aguirre was famed for its potions. And Brantley had been trying to hire potioneers? I would have grinned, if I still had lips. I was fairly sure I understood why he’d been unsuccessful. I’d sooner become a lady of the evening than go to work for Brantley and his cronies.

  “I did my best,” Brantley whined. “If you’d given me the power to offer patronage at school, I could have ...”

  The voice cut him off. “You had the power,” she said. “Now, go back to the party and try and act like a decent man. I’m not shelling out thousands of crowns - again - to save you from the consequences of your own stupidity. Go.”

  “Yes, Auntie,” Brantley said.

  I felt him walking through the door and down the stairs. I hoped he’d have the sense to stop somewhere and drop me off, either undoing the spell or letting me break it from the inside. It would be dangerous to cancel the spell while I was in his pocket, although ... I shuddered as I silently replayed everything I’d heard. If Brantley’s aunt had paid thousands of crowns to cover something up ... what had he done? There weren’t many possibilities. But I could guess.

  “I’m sorry,” Brantley said. I felt him pull me out of his pocket and put me on the floor. “I had to hide you.”

  The spell broke. I snapped back to normal. We were in one of the small meeting rooms. I brushed down my dress, then took a compact from my pocket and examined myself in the mirror. I looked a little flushed, but otherwise decent. Brantley smiled at me, shifting from side to side. We’d come very close to being caught. I wondered, idly, what his aunt would have said if she’d caught us. It would have been a major scandal if it had become public. But that was part of the fun.

  “I understand,” I said. It had worked out in my favour, I supposed. “But we can’t see each other again for a while.”

  Brantley’s expression darkened, looking alarmingly mulish. I winced inwardly, wondering if I’d have to do something desperate. I didn’t need him trying to cling to me, even though he thought we’d been intimate. I guessed he felt the thrill of doing something he shouldn’t too ... I cursed under my breath. What had Brantley done? I was sure it had involved a girl, one well-bred enough to make a fuss and yet too low-born to guarantee it. And probably not one who knew how to defend herself.

  “We can meet elsewhere,” Brantley said, stubbornly. “I’m sure you enjoyed it too.”

  “I did,” I lied. “But we cannot be caught.”

  I waved at the door. “You go now and mingle,” I said. “I’ll go the other way in a couple of minutes.”

  Brantley bowed. “Come back soon, please.”

  “I don’t want to risk being caught again,” I lied. No, it wasn’t entirely a lie. Getting caught poking through someone’s drawers was entirely different to being caught with an entirely unsuitable boy. “It would be ... unpleasant.”

  “Really?” Brantley sniggered. “I thought you were the Matriarch. What are you going to do? Flog yourself?”

  It would have been funny, I supposed, if so much hadn’t been at stake. I pointed at the door. “Out.”

  He left, leaving me alone. I took a deep breath, calming myself as much as possible. I’d learnt something useful, even if I wasn’t sure what to do with it. And I had an excuse for avoiding him in the future. And ...

  Poor Lady Saline, I thought, as I cast a glamour and headed for the door. She doesn’t know what she’s getting into.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Father was very pleased with the tip,” Gary said, two days after I’d visited Braddock Hall. “He’s upped the price for the last two shops considerably.”

  I nodded. We sat together in my sitting room, drinking tea. Jadish had chaperoned for a few minutes, to satisfy propriety, then gone off to do something else with her time. I wasn’t sure if she thought she was doing me a favour or not. I liked Gary, but ... I wanted to make enough money to repay the dowry and break the engagement before it became public. And yet... I liked him. There was something about his manner that appealed to me. I wasn’t sure what it was. He wasn’t as entitled or obnoxious as most of my male peers. Instead, he had an air of calm competence that suggested he knew precisely what he was doing.

  “Just make sure you don’t let them know who tipped you off,” I said. “Ideally, don’t let them know it’s you who purchased the shops.”

  “Dad knows what he’s doing,” Gary said. “He already owned one of the shops.”

  I smiled. I had no intention of stopping Brantley from purchasing the entire block and selling it to a developer, or perhaps even developing it himself, but I intended to make sure he paid a steep price for it. I’d get enough of a cut to ... I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it, not yet, but I would do something. Perhaps I could invest in more clients. If I’d learnt one thing in the last few weeks, it was that I could build up a retinue of commoners by investing in their careers.

  “That’s a stroke of luck,” I said. “Did he know what’d happened to the others?”

  “He knew someone was buying them up,” Gary said. “The new owner didn’t know to hide his tracks.”

  “So I gathered,” I said, trying not to wince. Uncle Jalil’s words haunted me. He’d made it clear that someone might guess what I was doing and why. I’d done my best to start working out excuses, to come up with explanations that might conceal the truth, but I knew they might not be believed. Mud stuck, particularly when people wanted it to. “I’m sure he’ll pay well above the odds for the remaining buildings.”

  Gary grinned. “So I’m told,” he said. “What tipped you off?”

  “I heard some chatter,” I said. “And then I put the pieces together.”

  “Good.” Gary sipped his tea for a long moment, clearly casting around for another topic of conversation. “Did you get your exam results?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “They’re probably still laughing their heads off.”

  “I doubt it,” Gary said. “You’re far from stupid.”

  He smiled, suddenly. “Are all the stories about Grayling’s true?”

  “Well ...” I drew the word out as much as possible. “It rather depends on which stories you’ve heard.”

  I studied my tea for a long moment. “It ... I never had the impression the school was that interested in teaching, if you know what I mean. I got good marks, but the quality of the tutors was very limited ... some of them did a very good job and others were clearly doing nothing more than going through the motions. A lot of the students weren’t welcome in their family homes, for one reason or another ...”

  Gary coughed. “They weren’t welcome?”

  “They were embarrassments.” I felt cold, as if my heart had turned to ice. “Or they simply weren’t welcome back home.”

  I pushed on before he could ask any awkward questions. “Life in the dorms could be good or bad. If you played the game, if you learnt to stand up for yoursel
f and your friends, you had a really good time of it. If you didn’t ... an outcast’s life is simply not worth living. We had gangs and groups and all sorts of clubs and we spent an awful lot of time fighting each other and sneaking around ... I always had the impression the teachers didn’t care what we did, as long as we didn’t do it openly.”

  “It sounds just like Jude’s,” Gary said. “Weren’t there any boys there?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Some of the girls dated boys from the nearest village. Others developed pashes - crushes - on their girlfriends. There were rumours about a boy’s school on the other side of the mirrors, but ... it was just a silly story. Someone cast a spell on a mirror so anyone who looked at their reflection would see a boy and the story just got out of hand.”

  “There are lots of silly stories at Jude’s too,” Gary said. “Believe me.”

  “I do,” I said. “I ...” - I found myself looking for another topic too - “tell me about your apprenticeship.”