My thoughts ran in circles. I was supposed to be hosting another party in two days, one that would provide ample opportunity to speak to both Marlene and Ayesha. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say to Marlene, but Malachi would know if I failed to speak to Ayesha. Even if he didn’t insist on reading my memories again, he had his spy in her hall. I wished I could give her a tip-off, perhaps a hint she should watch her back. She didn’t know what had happened to me. She didn’t know she needed to be careful. She might not even know precisely how her secret had fallen into enemy hands.
And if I do give her a warning, and her family sacks its maids, Malachi will know what I’ve done, I thought, grimly. He really did have me in a neat little box. I’d heard of servants being sacked before, for all kinds of misconduct, but never an entire household being sacked on the spot. Even a declining household wouldn’t let all its servants go at once. The sacking would be the talk of the town. There’s no way he wouldn’t hear of it.
I cursed under my breath, my lips forming words I still didn’t want to say out loud. Uncle Jalil had spent two days looking at records, but he’d been unable to determine where Malachi lived. The record-keeping in Water Shallot had never been very good, according to him; there was no way to be sure we weren’t skipping over his home because it wasn’t registered to him. And it might have been purchased - or rented - by his former family. I had a feeling they wouldn’t have left him with much, if he’d betrayed them. They could - and should - have sent him a great deal further away.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought. I could understand a blackmailer who was cold and professional enough not to back his victims into a corner, where they might go to the authorities themselves or simply try to kill the blackmailer. A secret became worthless when it became public, something I’d learnt at school. But ... Malachi seemed determined to extract the maximum amount of public humiliation. He might have made noises about treating me as an ally, about eventually leaving his business to me, but I didn’t trust him. He might let me compromise myself even more, then pull the rug out from under my feet.
He wants revenge, I thought. And he’ll destroy me to get it.
I tried to imagine what it must have been like, to marry into a Great House. Malachi had grown up in Water Shallot. There were stories - none of them flattering - about people from Water Shallot. Criminals, whores, addicts ... I scowled, remembering someone telling me how hard it was to get a job if one had an address in Water Shallot. It couldn’t have been easy blending into the aristocracy. If I knew anything about the Grande Dames, it was that they loved to make themselves big by making everyone else look small. Malachi’s origins would hardly be a secret. He could wash himself twice a day and wear the finest perfumes and people would still be making remarks about the smell. I would have felt sorry for him, if he hadn’t been trying to blackmail me. No, he had blackmailed me. There was no way to escape the net he’d spun around me.
Jadish tapped on the door. “My Lady, you have a visitor.”
I flinched. Malachi? I didn’t think he’d come visiting, not now he had his hooks in me, but I could be wrong. He’d want me to come to him, to prove I was the servant and he the master, yet ... what if I was wrong? Jadish’s eyes narrowed as she looked at me. She was far more perceptive than most people realised and she knew me. She had to be wondering just what was going through my head.
“It’s Gary Prestwick, My Lady,” Jadish said. “Would you like me to send him away?”
“No.” I cursed myself under my breath. I’d forgotten. Again. And yet ... I was tempted to take her up on her offer. I wasn’t sure I could face Gary - or anyone - right now. There were a hundred things I needed to do, none of which I wanted to do. “Send him up, then ... go away.”
Jadish smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. I winced, trying not to show my dismay too openly. Jadish knew something was wrong. What would she do with the information? Ask my relatives? Talk to her father? Or keep it to herself? I wished, not for the first time, that we’d been able to stay in touch. We were different people now.
She dropped a curtsy, then withdrew. I stood, hastily checking my appearance in the mirror. I hadn’t bothered to dress properly, let alone apply makeup or cast any cosmetic spells. Gary and I would be in real trouble, if I ruled a proper Great House. One of the old biddies would notice he’d visited me, without a chaperone, and draw entirely the wrong conclusions. I silently thanked my ancestors none of my relatives wanted to move back into the hall. It spoke volumes about their faith in me, but ... it kept their prying eyes out. I didn’t need more problems.
Gary entered, looking concerned. I wondered what, if anything, Jadish had said to him. They came from different walks of life, but they were both commoners. They had more in common with each other than I had with either of them. I winced as I held out a hand for him to shake, then kiss. Malachi had clearly had problems fitting into High Society. Gary would have the same problems, only worse. He wouldn’t have any wealthy and powerful aristocrats smoothing the way.
“Lucy,” Gary said. He kissed the air above my hand, then straightened and looked around the office. “Is this where all the decisions are made?”
“No.” I tried to see the chamber through his eyes. “Most decisions are made in private rooms, each one close enough to the ballroom for everyone to come and go as they please.”
“Oh.” Gary walked to the window and looked over the city. “You have a nice view, if nothing else.”
“I suppose,” I said. A mansion was a sign of wealth and power ... or so I’d been told. I’d never realised it could easily become a millstone around the owner’s neck. “I’ve never really had time to look outside.”
Gary glanced at me. “Not ever?”
“Not really.” I stood beside him, wishing I could put my arm around him. “This was my father’s office. I wasn’t allowed in when I was a child. Now ... I have too much work to do.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gary said. “Come out with me.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Come out with me,” Gary repeated. “We can go somewhere ... somewhere safe. You can wear a glamour or just change your clothes. No one will know you.”
I snorted, torn between the urge to throw caution to the winds and the grim awareness I didn’t dare. Too much rested on my reputation remaining unblemished ... I sagged as I remembered, again, that I might lose everything. My life, my family ... even Gary. I couldn’t bear to look at him. He and his family might be dragged down too. I’d damned them all.
His eyes went wide as I choked back a sob. I’d been taught never to cry at school - it only made things worse - but I couldn’t help it. I turned away, wanting to tell him to go and yet not daring to open my mouth. I’d never cried openly, not since I was a child. Marlene and the others would have made fun of me, just as they’d made fun of the homesick girls ... I shuddered. No wonder Marlene had had so few problems adapting to school. She couldn’t have pretended to be an aristocrat at Jude’s!
Gary followed me. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”
I stumbled to the sofa and sat down. I’d never broken down so completely before. It took every last ounce of willpower I had to keep from collapsing into his arms and sobbing my heart out. Tears ran down my face, despite everything. He put an arm around me, something no aristocrat would have done unless he knew me very well; I knew I should tell him to keep his hands to himself. Instead, I leaned into his embrace. He smelt nice. He hadn’t gone in for the perfume so many aristocrats liked. I’d never liked it myself. They were so fake.
“I’m here for you,” he said. “Do you want to talk?”
I wasn’t sure that was true. Gary and I had been thrown together by circumstance ... no, because I’d needed money and putting myself on the marriage market had seemed the quickest way to get it. He might turn away, the moment he knew what I’d done. He might refuse to have anything further to do with me; he might even go to his father and tell him to write off the debt and forget it. I wondered,
bitterly, what his father would do. Demand I repay him anyway? Or insist I kept my side of the bargain?
“I don’t know,” I managed. I knew how to keep secrets. Anyone who told a secret couldn’t be surprised if everyone knew, by the end of the day ... it was no longer funny. Not now. In hindsight, it had never been funny. “I ...”
“I’m here for you,” he repeated. He held me, gently but firmly. “What happened?”
I allowed myself to relax into his hug, just a little. It was selfish - he might push me away, the moment I told him the truth - but I wanted to enjoy it. His touch was so different from Brantley’s or Malachi’s ... I was tempted to kiss him, even though I knew it would have ended poorly. If someone found out ...
“It’s a long story,” I mumbled. I’d been told confession was good for the soul, but I’d never truly believed it. Confession had always struck me as a way to get in more trouble. “I ... I made a terrible mistake.”
Gary looked down at me. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “And ...”
I swallowed, hard. My thoughts mocked me. I’d damned him too. I’d damned him and his father and his family’s chance to climb to the very top. I’d damned them all ... he was going to hate me. I knew he was going to hate me. He was going to lash out at me ... I almost wished he would. It would be the end I deserved. And yet, I couldn’t let him. He’d be damned as a murderer.
“I ...” I forced myself to stammer out the full story. “I let myself get into trouble.”
Gary didn’t let me go. I stared, unable to understand why. How could he not be repulsed? I’d known girls who were shunned, unable to attract any interest because the Grande Dames damned them for ... nothing, compared to what I’d done. The poor girls had been doomed to become old maids, if they didn’t move away. Shallot wasn’t the world. It just felt like it. There were people who seemed to honestly believe the world ended just beyond the city limits. I guessed that meant they thought Grayling’s didn’t exist at all.
“And he’s got you now,” Gary said. I heard the anger in his voice, although it didn’t seem directed at me. “Right?”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I was a fool.”
“Yes,” Gary agreed. “You were.”
I cringed. I’d been shouted at by prefects, scolded by tutors and even lectured by Uncle Jalil, but this was worse. Gary had every right to be mad. He had every right to let go of me and walk away. He had every right to end our relationship, such as it was, and demand the return of the dowry. I’d been an utter fool. He knew it, now. He had to be wondering what stupid things I’d do in the future.
“Why?” His voice was strikingly reasonable. “Why did you ... spy on your peers?”
“They’re not my peers,” I said. Uncle Jalil had handled the marriage negotiations. I wondered, suddenly, just what he’d told Gary and his father about the family fortune. I’d told him to be a little vague, but really ... why would we have asked for a dowry, a loan, if we hadn’t needed it? “Gary, I don’t have anything!”
Gary waved a hand at the wall. “Lucy, you have an entire house ...”
“Which belongs to the family, not to me personally,” I said. “It can’t be sold. Everything we owned that could be sold was sold, by my father. What little we earn from our holdings has to be ploughed straight back into them, just to keep them alive. I have to spend money on maintaining this house or ... or it starts to decay. Gary ... I thought I had no choice.”
“You could have told me,” Gary said. “We could have done something ...”
I snorted. “I wanted to rebuild the house myself,” I said, crossly. Gary might have helped out of the goodness of his heart, but his father would have exacted a price. I was morbidly sure he would have demanded an immediate wedding, followed by the brutal sidelining of the old family conclave. It would have made sense - the conclave brought nothing to the table, even now - but it would have provoked a civil war. “I wanted to rebuild.”
“And you managed to get into trouble,” Gary pointed out. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I have to stop him,” I said. “And do it in a manner that ensures the secret can’t get out.”
“Good thinking,” Gary said. He didn’t sound sarcastic, but I thought I detected a hint of it anyway. “What proof does he have?”
“He showed me a memory orb,” I said, and explained. “He has a memory of me snooping.”
“Dad was livid when he caught my sister reading his papers,” Gary said. He frowned. “Let me see the orb.”
“If you want.” I retrieved the orb from its hiding place and held it out to him. “You have to peer into it to trigger the memory.”
Gary smiled as he stared into the light. “It’s pretty obviously a male servant.”
I flushed. “And your point is?”
“Interesting set of charms,” Gary said. He turned it over and over in his hand, muttering a pair of spells. “I wonder if the orb can be duplicated.”
“He wouldn’t have left it with me if it couldn’t,” I said. “Right?”
“You’d think.” Gary sounded enthused by the puzzle. “But there’s an astonishing amount of data wrapped up in the charms. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I scowled, feeling my heart sink again. “Could he have found an Object of Power from somewhere?”
“I doubt it,” Gary said. “I’ve never heard of an Object of Power that did anything like this ... nothing even close to it. I think the charms are understandable, just very complex. There’s no ... there’s no lump of magic, no solid spellforms. I think he or someone else designed and built a very complex Device of Power.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. I’d lost track of the explanation. “If the memories can’t be duplicated ...”
Gary looked at me. “He took one of your memories, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” I frowned. “I didn’t ... I didn’t lose the memory. It was just copied.”
“He might not need a copy,” Gary mused. “He knows who gave it to him. He can make another orb, if he wants.”
He smiled. “Can I take the orb to the workshop? I need to examine it properly.”
I hesitated. It was proof I’d done something wrong. In the wrong hands, it could be utterly disastrous. Gary had a lot to lose, if the truth came out, but ... I could see his father deciding to pull out of the agreement as fast as possible. The best I could hope for, if that happened, would be them keeping their mouths shut. They’d lose interest in marrying into my family if there was a very real chance we’d be blown out of the water within weeks or months.
And that they’d go down with us, I thought, grimly. How far do I trust him?
“Yes,” I said. If I could trust Gary ... I might just be able to get ahead of Malachi. “Just ... just make sure you don’t lose it. Or show it to anyone.”
“Understood.” Gary placed the orb in his pocket and concealed it with a spell. It was a neat piece of work. I knew the pocket was there and yet I couldn’t see it. “And I’ll try and track down the bastard too.”
“Please do,” I said. I hugged him, in relief and gratitude. “Just be careful.”
“I will,” Gary said. “I promise.”
And he kissed me.
Chapter Thirty-One
“You’re happy,” Marlene observed, as we waited for the first guests. “What happened?”
I smiled. I’d spent most of the previous day in a daze. Gary and I had kissed for hours ... or what felt like hours. It felt so much better than what I’d done with Brantley that I’d forgotten my problems, for a while. I hoped Gary could learn something useful from studying the orb, perhaps proving - to our satisfaction - that the memories couldn’t be duplicated. Gary had seemed fairly certain it wouldn’t be easy. It had honestly not crossed my mind just how much information went into the memories, even one as short as the one I’d used to blackmail Ayesha, until he’d pointed it out.
“I had a lesson
in the limits of our education,” I said. It was a remark that covered a multitude of sins. “Grayling’s was more concerned with making proper young ladies out of us than giving us a good education.”
Marlene shrugged and looked away. I studied her back, feeling more and more convinced that Malachi was right. Marlene was wearing an older dress, again. An aristocratic girl of her age would wear something new, unless her family was so short of money they couldn’t even afford to keep up appearances. And there was an edge about the way she acted that suggested she had no room for mistakes. The Grande Dames were not remotely forgiving - as I was all too aware - but even they acknowledged that mistakes happened. They wouldn’t be quite so tolerant of a servant girl pretending to be a noblewoman.
The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8) Page 29
