by C. J. Archer
"I know," I said on a sigh. "I'm aware that my father didn't tell me, even though he most likely knew."
"We can't be sure about that."
"Even if he wasn't magical, his father or grandfather must have been, and he'd probably been told at some point, in case he—or I—developed the skill. He should have told me."
"Don't blame him entirely," Matt said gently. "If he didn't show any magical ability, his father might have put it to the back of his mind. Perhaps he planned on telling your father when he had children, but his untimely death prevented him."
"I suppose." I rubbed my forehead. "It's all so strange, Matt. I don't want to be magical if it comes with danger. Thank goodness mine is very slight."
"Is it?"
I glanced up. "What do you mean?"
"Your watch shocked a man, temporarily incapacitating him. Another clock you worked on swerved to hit a man in the head. Those are remarkable feats, and so far, none of the magical people I've spoken to have reported such a thing."
I tried to laugh but it was half-hearted. "I cannot imagine a map killing anyone."
He smirked. "The guild's bronze globe could do some damage." He reached across the gap and rested his hand over mine. "No harm will come to you, India. I'll make sure of it."
"Thank you."
"But you must keep your secret just that, a secret. Abercrombie and the other guild members may suspect that you're magical, but that doesn't mean you have to prove it to them."
"I'll only tell people when it's necessary."
"Or not at all." He squeezed my hand. "Now let's reprise our roles as Mr. and Mrs. Prescott and see what we can learn from McArdle."
McArdle rented rooms in a tidy red brick Chelsea house from Mrs, Dawson, a widow in her sixties whose clothing would have been the height of fashion twenty years ago. Unfortunately he'd paid his rent in full and departed only the day before, taking his belongings with him.
Matt looked like he'd explode with the most colorful language learned in the Wild West, so I quickly spoke first. "What can you tell us about him?" I asked the landlady.
Mrs. Dawson lifted her chin in the same way Miss Glass did when she dug her heels in. "Why?"
Matt pulled some coins from his pocket. "Answer the question."
She put out her hand and he dropped the coins onto her palm. "He kept to himself," she said. "He went out every day, but didn't tell me where, and I didn't ask."
"Did he ever mention maps or mapmakers?"
"No."
"Did he mention an argument?" Matt asked.
"He came home one afternoon in a foul mood, muttering about an upstart lad."
"How angry did he become?" I asked. "Did he hit things, throw things?"
"He wasn't a violent man. He was pleasant enough, merely kept to himself."
"Where was he from?"
"He was British, of course." She pressed a hand to her bosom, a horrified look on her face. "I only allow decent Englishmen to board in my house. Foreigners are not welcome."
"We Americans need not apply?" Matt asked, laying his accent on thickly.
She gave him a tight smile. "I might make an exception for a gentleman such as yourself." She made a point of glancing at his pocket where he'd kept his money.
"What part of England was Mr. McArdle from?" I asked. "Did he have an accent?"
"Not that I detected. He mentioned no cities, counties or villages to me. I don't know where he was from." She glanced past us then stepped closer. "There is one other thing. Something he left behind. As his landlady, I would feel terrible if he wrote to me and asked me to send it on and I couldn't find it, but sometimes, small things go missing."
I didn't understand. Did she have it, or didn't she?
Matt passed more coins to her. She checked the quantity then pocketed them and signaled for us to follow her up the stairs. I stared at her back, somewhat aghast at her duplicity. She may dress and sound toff, but she was as desperate as, well, as I had been for a brief few days before going to work for Matt.
She led us into her small sitting room and opened her sewing kit. "I found this on the floor under the dresser in his bedroom. It must have rolled there." She dropped a small, round metal object onto Matt's hand.
He inspected it, turning it over, twice. "It's a gold button," he said flatly. "I did not pay you to give me one of McArdle's buttons."
She merely shrugged.
"May I see?" I asked.
He placed the button in my hand and I sucked in a ragged breath.
"What is it?" he asked, frowning.
My gaze connected with his. "It's warm."
Chapter 6
We took the button with us and inspected it in the carriage on the way home. "It's certainly magical warmth," I said. "Not from human touch or the sun. I'm beginning to learn the difference."
The old metal had dulled considerably and some of the pattern worn off it with time. The edge didn't look as if it had ever been perfectly round, but beaten into a circular shape with a crude tool. A small shank of a different metal had been attached to the back, and was clearly not part of the original button.
"There's an inscription," I said, holding it up to the window for better light. "But I can't read it. There's also an image, but it's not clear."
Matt leaned closer to get a better look, pressing his arm against mine. "I can't make it out either."
"So we have a button maker magician somewhere too."
"Or a metal worker. He or she is most likely dead. That button is old."
I dropped it into my reticule. "I wonder what magical buttons do."
"Button up clothing without the need of human hands?" he said airily.
"I can see how that would be useful. I could fix my hair while my jacket does itself up. It would save, oh, seconds of effort."
"Saving several seconds in one's day is a useful thing, particularly for someone who likes to keep busy and account for every minute in her day."
I blinked at him. "Are you referring to me?"
He lifted one shoulder, but the wicked gleam in his eyes gave me the answer.
"I do not need to account for every minute in my day, thank you. Although I do like to keep busy, I'll grant you that."
"You check your watch a lot, you know."
"No more than anyone else."
"If you're near a clock, you'll check that instead."
"Now you're being silly. I am not obsessed with the time."
He said nothing, but his smirk widened.
"I'll prove it to you." I opened my reticule and handed him my watch. "You may keep it for a day. It doesn't bother me."
"Very well. And I'll turn all the clocks around at home."
I watched him tuck my watch into his pocket and tried not to worry. That watch had saved my life. Should I be parted from it? What if I were attacked again?
"I'll take good care of it," he said. "And you'll be with me the entire time, so you won't need its magical properties to save you."
I twisted my fingers together in my lap. "If you lose it, I'll tell Lady Rycroft that you have your heart set on marrying her daughter."
"Which one? Please say Charity. She seems like the sort of girl who could thrive in California with my family."
I laughed and nudged him with my elbow. His smile faded a little and his gaze turned serious as it held mine for a moment longer than appropriate. Then he yawned.
Bristow handed Matt a note when we arrived home. Matt's face, already looking a little gray, paled more. He stared at it a long time then folded it up and tucked it into his pocket.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"It's from Munro, asking for an update on our investigation."
"If that's all it is, why do you look so worried?"
He suddenly smiled. "I'm not. Just tired."
I didn't believe him for a moment.
To Bristow, he said, "Please turn all the clocks in the house around to face the wall."
Bristow didn't flicke
r so much as an eyelash at the strange request. I, however, rolled my eyes. "It doesn't bother me in the least that I won't know the time."
"Good."
"You can stop smiling so smugly now."
"I will, tomorrow, if you prove to me that I'm wrong and time is unimportant to you."
"You're an impossible man."
"If that's the worst you can lay at my feet, then I'm content."
I stalked off, not sure whether I was angry with him or wanted to laugh at my own expense. He was truly baffling at times.
Matt rejoined us for dinner after a rest, as did Cyclops, Duke and Willie, back from their set tasks. With Miss Glass present, we refrained from updating each other until she went to bed. She finally bade us goodnight at…at somewhere between nine and half past. Perhaps.
"DuPont hasn't returned," Willie told us, settling in the armchair in the sitting room with her pipe. "I don't think he will."
"Damn," Matt muttered.
Duke opened a window and glared at Willie. "Miss Glass can smell the smoke in the morning, you know."
She puffed out a smoke ring in his direction.
"Cyclops?" Matt asked. "Have you got anything to report?"
"Aye. There's something strange going on at the guild."
Matt leaned forward. "What sort of strange?"
"Hard to say. The treasurer was back again today, when he didn't need to be."
"Mr. Onslow." I nodded. "We met him, along with his apprentice, Ronald Hogarth."
"The apprentice now works for Duffield," Cyclops said. "Onslow was grumbling about it to the old footman. Apparently Duffield stole him from Onslow this afternoon."
"How do you steal an apprentice?" Duke asked.
"Pay him more money. Onslow whined that he couldn't afford to match what Duffield offered, and the lad jumped at the chance to work for the guild's master. That's not the suspicious part." Cyclops swirled the brandy around his glass and stretched his bare feet toward the fire. "He met a man at the guild today. The man gave no name to the footman but Onslow clearly knew him. They spoke in whispers in the entrance hall then disappeared into an office with instructions not to be disturbed. When I disregarded orders and disturbed them, they were pouring over the treasury ledger. A ledger that I later discovered never leaves Onslow's hands. According to the servants I asked, no one else looks at the ledger, not even the guild master. Apparently he trusts Onslow and has no interest in figures."
"What do you think he's up to?" I asked.
"Stealing from the guild's treasury, most like," Willie said.
"It's easy enough to do," Duke said.
Cyclops nodded. "Especially if no one else sees the ledger, but even then, money can be hidden in plain sight."
I blinked at them in turn. "You sound as if you have experience in such matters."
Duke and Cyclops didn't meet my gaze while Willie flashed a grin around her pipe. "We ain't got no halo like you," she said. "Don't take offence, India."
I returned her smile. "You do have a halo. I've seen it. Only you pretend it's not there. Don't take offence, Willie."
She grunted but her smile remained.
Matt cleared his throat. "I wonder if the fellow Onslow met is a customer."
"Or if he has anything to do with Daniel's disappearance," Duke added. "Maybe he's paying for a magic map too, but unofficial like." His face brightened and he half rose from his chair. "Maybe Onslow kidnapped Daniel and is keeping him somewhere, forcing him to make magic maps for special customers who'll pay big."
It was a sound theory, and going by the nods of agreement, I wasn't the only one to think so. "We should investigate Onslow and perhaps follow him," I said. "If he is keeping Daniel somewhere, he must be visiting him from time to time."
"I'll follow him," Duke said.
Matt shook his head. "I need you and Willie to share duties at Worthey's factory, at least until we're completely sure that DuPont isn't coming back."
"I'll follow Onslow," I said. "There's no need for you and I to investigate together. We might as well split up and—"
"No. We are not splitting up. If something happens to you…" He sliced his hand through the air in a cutting motion. "We're not splitting up. Don't suggest it again."
I straightened and squared my shoulders. "Is this because I'm a woman? Do you think I'm incapable of following someone without being noticed?"
"No. I think you incapable of protecting yourself against someone who wishes to do you harm."
"Would you like to add 'no offence' to that to soften the blow?"
He winced. "I'm sorry, India, but no. I don't care if that offends you or not. I'm responsible for you, now that you live and work here."
I was about to argue that he wasn't responsible for me when Willie cut in first. "It ain't because you're a woman. It's because you can't fight like a man. And you don't carry Mr. Colt like I do."
"I could carry a gun if I wanted to."
"But you wouldn't use it."
She had me there. With a sigh of resignation, I nodded. "Very well. We'll work together."
Matt watched me a moment longer then finally said, "Good. Cyclops, continue at the Mapmakers' Guild, but be careful. Let me know if anything else happens, or if you discover that man's identity."
We told them what we'd learned from Daniel's family and showed them the button from McArdle's landlady. They couldn't think of a use for a magical button either. There seemed to be no point to it, particularly if it only lasted a brief time, like other magic.
"Do you think your time magic can work with it to extend its magic?" Cyclops asked, handing the button back to me.
"I don't know," I said. "Not that it matters, since I don't know how. Even if I did, why would anyone want to do such a thing for a button?"
"By the same token, why would anyone want any magical object if the magic is fleeting?" Matt said, touching the pocket where he kept his watch. "As far as I can see, most magic is useless without longevity."
"Except for map-making magic. Even if the magic only lasted a few minutes, the hidden route would still become visible long enough for someone to memorize it."
He nodded thoughtfully.
"We have to find Daniel," I said heavily. "His poor mother is so upset. Munro too, I imagine."
"We'll start afresh tomorrow by following Onslow." He stood and bade us goodnight.
I glanced at the clock on the mantel, forgetting that it had been turned to face the wall. He noticed and smiled. If I were a child, I would poke my tongue out at him. Instead, I raised my chin.
"Anyone want to play?" Duke asked after Matt left. He pulled the cards and matches out of the card table drawer.
Willie pulled a face. "Not me. It ain't no fun when the stakes aren't real."
"What are you going to do instead? Read a book?" He snorted.
"I might." She pulled out her pipe. "India, what's a good one?"
I handed her The Three Musketeers which I'd borrowed from Matt's library but hadn't yet begun. "Try this. I hear it's quite fun."
"Does it have battles and lots of blood?"
"I do hope so. We innocents need to get our fun somehow."
She chuckled.
"India?" Duke asked. "You want to play?"
"I think I'll retire. Goodnight."
Instead of going directly to my room, I headed for Matt's and knocked lightly on his door. He opened it and I swallowed heavily, forcing my gaze to meet his and not look at his bare chest. It was not an easy task.
He stepped aside and indicated I should enter.
"No, thank you," I said in a prim voice. I winced. I sounded exactly like the naive prude Willie accused me of being.
He leaned his forearm against the doorframe and crossed his legs at the ankles. "This must be important," he drawled. "Come to see what time it is?"
"Very amusing. You do know that I can simply turn one of the clocks around if I want to."
"But you won't because you're an honorable person."
<
br /> "Not that honorable. I won't do it because I suspect you'll catch me if I do. You have a tendency to sneak up on people."
He grinned a positively wicked grin. He didn't care in the least that he was half naked. I should have known he wouldn't, based on prior experience. Despite having seen his impressive physique already, I did not tire of it. This time, however, I resolved not to succumb to temptation and gawp. It was unladylike to let him know I liked what I saw.
"I do wish you wouldn't smirk like that," I said, holding his gaze hard and not looking down.
"I'm not smirking, I'm smiling. I'm smiling because you look like you're trying not to blink."
I blinked.
"I can't think what you have against blinking," he went on. "Are you sure you won't come in? I promise to put a shirt on."
I lifted a shoulder. "I don't care if you do or not. You seem to be under the impression that your nakedness affects me. It does not. I'm hardly a sensitive chit."
His lips twitched. "Is that so? Then why won't you look below my chin?"
"You have a nice chin, and I have no need to look below it. I happen to prefer meeting the gaze of the person I'm speaking to. Stop smirking!"
He didn't. "Well?" he asked.
"Well what?"
"You came to my room for a reason. Or was it simply to catch me in a state of undress?"
I had the distinct feeling I was losing a battle I hadn't known I was participating in until it was too late. "I came to ask you about the note from Munro."
The smirk vanished. He lowered his arm and crossed them over his chest. "What about it?"
"What was in it?"
"I told you. He wanted me to update him on our progress. I'll visit him tomorrow in person."
"I'll join you."
"No."
"I thought we were going to remain together during our investigation," I said, throwing his words back at him.
"You can remain here while I go out. I'll pick you up when I'm finished."
"Matt, what else was in that note? Don't lie to me," I said before he could speak.
His brows crashed together. "I don't think I've ever lied to you."
"Perhaps not lie, but I know you'll certainly avoid trying to answer. As you are now. Well? What was in that note?"
