by C. J. Archer
"Eddie!" I cried. "How did he know?"
"Your father told him."
My father? But why? How could he tell someone else but not me? I blinked back the tears burning my eyes. I refused to cry in front of Abercrombie.
"To keep you safe," Matt said quietly, guessing the direction of my thoughts. "He knew he was dying and thought Hardacre would protect you after he was gone."
"Instead, Eddie betrayed me." I placed my palms on the counter to steady myself.
Matt placed his hand over mine.
"We must choose our friends wisely, Miss Steele," Mr. Abercrombie said with a lift of his chin. "Clearly you have a problem in that regard."
Matt removed his hand. "You know a Mr. Clark from the Apothecary's Guild," he said.
"What has that got to do with anything?"
"It has a great deal to do with magic, the guilds, and—"
Abercrombie rushed toward the counter. "Be quiet," he hissed. "Lower your voice."
Matt's mouth twisted into a sinister sneer. It was at these moments, when anger overtook him, that I felt I didn't know him at all. It may only ever be directed at the deserving, like Abercrombie, but it chilled me nevertheless. "What are you and Clark plotting?" he growled.
"Nothing! For God's sake, man. Josiah Clark is merely a friend of mine. Occasionally we dine together at my guild's hall or his. There's nothing mysterious in that, and we are certainly not plotting against…people like Miss Steele."
"Just like you didn't plot with the master of the Mapmaker's Guild to kidnap Daniel Gibbons?"
Abercrombie stiffened. "The police questioned me and let me go. Duffield, the master of that guild, worked alone."
That was a lie, but neither we nor the police could prove it.
Matt made a great show of inspecting more watches in the glass cabinet. No customers remained in the shop, only staff. If nothing else, we'd succeeded in costing Abercrombie some business today.
"On second thoughts," Matt said, "I've changed my mind. I won't purchase one of your watches. Your collection is far too provincial for my tastes. I think I'll take my custom elsewhere."
He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and we left the shop together.
"He's rattled," Matt said as we settled in the carriage.
"But what do you think he's up to with Mr. Clark? Another kidnapping? Hale's murder? If so, perhaps we shouldn't have poked the bees’ nest like that."
"Whatever it is, he'll be more likely to abandon his plans now that he knows we're watching him."
"That's what you wanted to achieve in there?"
"Short of actually extracting his plans from him, yes. I doubted he would simply tell us what he was plotting. Not unless I beat it out of him."
"Then thank goodness his staff remained," I said, only half joking.
"It wasn't his staff who kept me in check." He watched me from beneath heavy lids then turned to look out the window. Anger hung over him like a storm cloud the rest of the way home.
Duke and Willie had returned to the house a few minutes before us, and Catherine was gone. I wanted to ask Cyclops if he'd enjoyed her company much longer after we'd departed but did not get the chance.
"Cyclops, with me," Matt ordered, striding past Willie coming down the staircase. "I need a sparring partner."
Cyclops and Duke exchanged glances but it was Willie who spoke. "Sparring! What in damnation did you do it him, India?"
"We went to see Abercrombie," I said.
"Ah. That explains it."
"It does, rather."
Cyclops rolled up his shirtsleeve and went to follow Matt.
"Don't go in too hard," I told him. "Remember he's not well."
"Don't let him hear you say that," Cyclops said.
"Besides," Duke said, "Matt can take anything Cyclops can throw at him, even when he ain't well."
"If I was a different sort of man, I'd take offense at that." Cyclops slapped Duke on the shoulder and raced up the stairs, taking two at a time.
"I'm going to watch," Willie said. "Coming, India?"
"No, thank you. Watching two men punching one another is not my idea of a pleasant afternoon."
"Right you are. It ain't meant to be pleasant. It's about raw strength and manly pride. It's damned good to watch."
"Be sure Miss Glass doesn't catch wind of it," I called after her as she ran up the stairs. Duke followed and I retired to my own rooms to freshen up and consider whether we'd made a mistake in visiting Abercrombie.
In the end, I couldn't decide. I conceded that Matt may have a point. Abercrombie and Clark might abandon their plan, if they had one, now that they knew we were watching them.
Or they might hasten it. Or come after us to silence us.
I went in search of Miss Glass but was distracted from my quest by the grunts and Willie's occasional cheer coming from the drawing room. A little peek at the men sparring would do no harm. Perhaps Willie was right and boxing wasn't such a bloodthirsty sport after all. Queensberry's Rules had helped it become more respectable and less violent, so my father had told me, and the nobility flocked to matches. Only the men, of course. Women were strictly forbidden. Yet another reason to see what all the fuss was about and prove, if only to myself, that my constitution couldn't be described as delicate.
I opened the door and peered through the gap. They'd moved the furniture out of the way to create a large space in which Matt and Cyclops circled one another, fists raised. They were not fighting under Queensberry's Rules. I didn't know much about the code, but I did know gloves must be worn. Both Matt and Cyclops merely had strips of white cloth wrapped around their knuckles. It couldn't possibly offer enough protection.
Cyclops jabbed with his left then followed it with his right in quick succession. Matt dodged both, but only just, then went in low, catching Cyclops unawares. He hit Cyclops in the stomach. The big man grunted but got in a punch of his own to Matt's body before he managed to dance out of the way. I suspected they'd both pulled back so as not to hurt the other. I'd seen Matt fell men with his fists, and I suspected Cyclops was capable too, yet neither looked to be in pain.
"Go on, Matt," Willie jeered. She sat on the back of an armchair, her booted feat on the seat. Miss Glass would have a fit if she saw. "You can do better than that."
"Willie," Duke growled, "not today. Look at him. He can hardly stand."
Surely he exaggerated. Matt was avoiding most of Cyclops's punches well. I tried to get a better look at his face, but he had his back to me. His body seemed alert and his reactions quick.
Willie, sitting where she could see Matt's face, frowned. "Matt," she called to her cousin, "that's enough. You stop now."
Matt ignored her and threw another punch at Cyclops, but Cyclops swayed backward and it missed him.
I maneuvered around the furniture and joined Duke and Willie to get a better look at Matt. My movement caught his attention, distracting him from the fight. Cyclops's fist connected with Matt's face with a sickening thud.
I cringed, and Cyclops caught Matt's shoulder to steady him.
"Why didn't you get out of the way?" he said.
Willie leapt off the chair. "Miss Uptight over here distracted him with her halo." She inspected Matt's face. "That's going to show up nice and black later. Better start thinking of an explanation that won't give your aunt a conniption."
"I'm sorry," I said, touching his cheek gently. "I thought you wouldn't see me if I was quiet."
"You were quiet," he said, "but no less distracting."
"Oh, Matt," I said on a sigh. "Look at you." It wasn't just the bruise beginning to form beneath the eye but the unhealthy pallor and exhaustion etched into the lines slicing across his forehead. "Where is your watch?"
I moved off toward the jacket slung over the back of the sofa but he caught my arm. "Not yet, India. I'll use it later so it lasts me through the night."
The fact that he had to control its use worried me. "All right. But you should freshen up. On
e look at you and Miss Glass will know what you've been up to."
"After we get the room back to order."
We returned the furniture to its usual state and Matt retired to his rooms. Cyclops sat on the sofa with a groan and I sat beside him.
"Sherry, India?" Duke asked from the sideboard.
"Yes, please." I turned to Cyclops. "Did Catherine stay long after we left?"
"A good half hour at least," he said, extending his arm and stretching out his fingers.
"What did you talk about?"
"America, mostly. She had a lot of questions."
I smiled and accepted the glass of sherry from Duke. He handed Cyclops a brandy. "She's got a curious spirit."
"Aye, she's the adventuring type." He smirked into his glass.
"Why are you smiling like that?" I asked, unable to stop smiling myself.
"No reason. She took me by surprise."
"Ah. You were expecting a demure English rose."
"From the look of her, aye. She seemed like the sort that likes to wear pretty dresses and gossip all day."
I laughed. "Oh, Cyclops, you've been duped by her pale beauty and youthfulness. I assure you, Catherine is as robust as they come, in spirit if not in body. She may like to wear pretty dresses, and will pass on juicy gossip as much as the next person, but she's more than that."
He held up his hand. "I admit I judged her before I got to know her. Guilty as charged, ma'am."
"I'm glad you got to know the real Catherine. She's quite a character, although she's prone to romanticism. Men fall in love with her too easily, you see, and she falls for their flattery without getting to know them well first. It usually ends in heartache—theirs, not hers."
He cradled his glass in his hands as if he were warming them on a teacup. "I can see how that would cause you to worry about her."
"Only when the man in question is unsuitable, whether because of his nature or hers." I sidled closer and lowered my voice. "In your case, however, I think it would be a good match. You're both—"
"Stop there, India. Miss Mason is not for the likes of me."
"You can't know that yet. It's much too soon. Why not get to know her better and then judge."
He shook his head and downed the rest of his brandy. "She's not for people like me," he said again.
"Cyclops, if you're referring to the difference in your skin colors then I'm compelled to point out that it wouldn't matter to her and shouldn't to you, not if you truly like one another."
"It'll matter to her family."
As much as I liked Mr. and Mrs. Mason, I knew he was right, but only to a point. "It would at first, but if you made their daughter happy, they'd come to accept you in time. They're good people. Anyway, we're getting ahead of ourselves. You don't know one another well enough yet to decide if there's anything between you."
"Aye, agreed, but it's not just that."
"Then what is it? You're a good man, kind, loyal, and I'd wager you can turn your hand to anything. How could anyone possibly find fault in you?"
"You don't know everything about me, India."
I settled back in the sofa and regarded the unscathed half of his profile. He had bold cheekbones, smooth skin, and a soulful eye, but the patch and scar marred the handsomeness and even gave him a sinister appearance, if one didn't know his nature.
"I know you were being hunted by the law back in America," I said. "I don't know why, and it doesn't matter to me what they think you did, and it won't matter to Catherine either. You must be innocent or Matt wouldn't be your friend."
"It would matter if she—or any Englishwoman—came back home with me." He shifted his weight. "You've got it wrong anyway. By the time I left California to come here with Matt, I wasn't being hunted by lawmen no more. Only my employer was still after me."
"What for?" I bit my lip and winced. "Sorry, it's none of my business. You don't have to answer that."
He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "I don't blame you for wanting to know, India. You done well not to pry before now."
"It hasn't been easy. Sorry."
"You English apologize a lot."
"Sorry."
We both laughed.
"There's not much to tell," Cyclops went on. "I was overseer at a mine in Nevada. I worked my way up over five years and had a lot of respect for my employer and he for me. But when he died suddenly, and his son took over, everything changed. Skillitt, his name was. He tried to cut costs wherever he could. I went along with his new methods for a time, but when he told me to order cheap weaker timbers to shore up the shafts, I refused."
"Weaker timbers could mean shafts might collapse?" I asked.
"Aye, and men would lose their lives. I quit and went to work at another mine. But a week later, a shaft at Skillitt's collapsed, sure enough. Mr. Skillitt blamed me, said I was the one who ordered the weaker timbers without his knowledge. He set the law onto me and I was arrested, tried and sentenced to hang."
"Oh my god."
"I escaped on the way back to the jailhouse after the trial. I didn't know where I was running to, I just kept on going. For five months, I lived off the land or stole if my hunting failed, but I never stayed in one place for long. I wound up in California, and that's when Matt found me."
"Hiding out," I said, remembering the story Matt had told me. "You fought before both giving up."
The side of his mouth lifted. "Toughest fighter I ever met, and he a gentleman and all. Took me by surprise when he opened his mouth and educated words fell out."
I could well imagine it. Matt didn't fit into a neat mold. "Did the Californian lawmen not care what you'd done in Nevada?"
"They cared all right, but Matt sorted it out. After I told him what happened, he arranged for the best lawyer to look into my case. I was re-tried back in Nevada, in my absence, and my name was cleared. But Mr. Skillitt was furious because my defense blamed him. He was never brought to justice, on account of his fortune and influence, but his reputation never recovered. He lost some business and friends out of it, and he hated me."
"So he sent men after you?"
He nodded. "Usually word got to me before they did, and Matt hid me well enough, but I had to stay alert. Skillitt's still after me. So you see, I couldn't take a woman back with me. Not to that life."
"It sounds to me like you shouldn't go back at all. It's much safer here for you."
He lifted one shoulder. "America is my home."
"People make new homes elsewhere all the time. You already have at least one friend here."
"If you mean you, then I ain't convinced you're going to stay here. You might decide to try America."
"I have no reason to move."
"Don't you?" he asked slyly.
"No."
"The weather's warmer."
"That's hardly a convincing argument. I'm used to the cold and damp. Besides, summer is always just around the corner."
"Aye, but I'm hoping we won't be here for the summer." He cast a longing gaze at the door through which Matt had exited. "I don't think he'll last to see it if we don't fix his watch."
There was nothing for it. We had to resort to spying on our suspects. We'd achieved very little through interrogating them, so it was time for more underhanded methods.
After breakfast, Matt assigned Cyclops to watch Mr. Pitt, Duke to watch Mr. Clark, and himself to spy on Mr. Oakshot. Willie protested that she had nothing to do, and didn't want to sit around sipping tea with Miss Glass and me until she died of boredom, so Matt allowed her to go to the London Hospital to try to learn anything useful about Wiley and Ritter.
"I could help too," I said. "I could check all the medicines for any that feel magically warm. When I find one, I simply ask a nurse who handled it last."
"You'll slow me down or get caught," Willie declared. "You ain't coming."
"Why would I get caught?"
"You're too distinctive."
"I am not. I'm the sort of woman who blends into the background. I
hardly ever get noticed by anyone."
Willie snorted. Matt, Duke and Cyclops politely and diplomatically disagreed with me.
"Besides," I said, "if either of us is going to get noticed, it's you in your men's clothing."
"India's got a point," Duke said to Willie. "You're like a lighthouse beacon. Ships see you a mile offshore."
"And avoid me?" She stamped her hands on her hips and settled her feet apart. "Is that what you're implying? That men change course when they see me?"
He held up his hands in surrender. "You said it, not me."
"Willie's right," Matt said. "You're not going, India. You can't just wander into their dispensary and ask nurses who handled the medicines."
"I don't plan on wandering in," I said, placing my hands on my hips as Willie had done. "I plan on tricking my way in."
"No. You'll get in Willie's way."
"Ha!" Willie shot me a triumphant look.
"Don't get cocky," I snapped. "He's only refusing because he's protecting me. He thinks I can't take care of myself."
"You can't," Willie and Duke both said. She winked at him. He frowned back at her and apologized to me.
"You can't, India," he said. "Sorry, but it's the truth."
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," I said snippily. "I have a mouth and a brain. I can talk my way out of a situation. If Willie is cornered, she'll shoot her way out. My method is far more civil and involves no bloodshed." I spun round and marched out of Matt's study only to have him grasp me by the arm and stop me in the corridor.
"You're mad with me," he said.
I rounded on him. "I understand your point, Matt, but I think you're wrong. I'm not delicate, so stop treating me as if I were a snowflake that'll melt at the first sign of heat."
His grip tightened ever so slightly before letting me go. "You're forgetting one vital thing."
"That I'm a woman, and Willie is…whatever she is?"
That almost coaxed a smile from him, but his lips quickly flattened again. "The main reason you shouldn't go to the hospital is because you're known; not only by Wiley and Ritter but several nurses have seen you too. You couldn't possibly sneak about. And before you try telling me nobody notices you, I'd like you to know that I vehemently and categorically deny that claim."
