by Emma Newman
They both jumped when a squeal came from next door. Will burst out of the empty bedroom and reached the doorway to the schoolroom in time to see his father pick up Sophia. He hadn’t heard him arrive! Where did he come through? “Father,” he said, taking a step into the room. “We need to talk.”
His father shook his head. “Too late for that, son. This has gone on long enough. Say goodbye to William, Sophia.”
Sophia’s bottom lip stuck out at the best angle to express displeasure. “No, Papa, I want to stay here.”
“Please,” Will stepped forwards. “Father, please just put her down and we’ll go and talk about this.”
“He knows, son.”
“I can hide her!” Will moved forwards again. “I can help!”
Sophia, seeing Will’s barely controlled panic, started wriggling. “I want to stay with Will-yum.”
“Now stop that,” Father said, adjusting his grip on her. “We’re going to go somewhere very exciting. You’ll love it there. It’s the prettiest place you can imagine.”
“You’re taking her to Iris?” Will yelled, not even believing it himself. How could his father even consider it?
His father’s glare made him nauseous. “Don’t make a fuss, William,” he said, then looked at Sophia. “Time to go.”
11
Tom looked at the brochure with its pictures of gravestones beneath a blue sky and trees laden with blossoms. Promises of peace and respectful treatment with a note on the back about different payment plans available. He threw it onto the fire. Why the Agency had sent it to him, he had no idea. It wasn’t as if there was a choice about where to bury Father. All the Papavers who had ever died were buried there. None of them close relatives. The thought of burying his father still had the edge of absurdity to it. His grandparents and great-grandparents were going to be at the funeral. Cousins he’d never met. Aunts and uncles he’d only heard stories about, brought back from places all over the world where they’d been sent to best serve their patron.
Would Lord Poppy be at the funeral? No, of course not, it would be in Mundanus. But at the reception afterwards, perhaps. He’d been expecting a summons, or at the very least a demand to know the circumstances, but Tom had only had one message from him, delivered by one of his tiny faeries, the day before. “My Lord says that he is aware of the events in Aquae Sulis and to tell you that the Irises will soon know a pain to rival your own,” the tiny creature had said with delight. All he could do was nod and sigh with relief when it disappeared in a shower of poppy petals.
The one person he’d been waiting to hear from—no, to arrive in person—had remained infuriatingly silent. He knew Cat and Father’s relationship had been difficult and he could understand how the news of his death would be a shock, but to not even send word? Such cowardly behaviour. Even selfish, spoiled Elizabeth had come to see him every day. She didn’t say much, just asked him how he was and if the arrangements for the funeral were progressing, whilst perched on the edge of the armchair cushion. She seemed utterly lost, poor thing.
“Are we orphans now?” she’d asked him the night before.
“Mother isn’t dead, darling. So, no.”
“She might as well be,” Elizabeth had said bitterly. “She and Cathy are the most hateful, selfish witches I’ve ever known. I’m so glad I have you, Thomas.”
She’d clung to him at the door, as if she hadn’t wanted to leave. When she finally went, Lucy had taken his hand, led him back to the living room, and draped a blanket around his shoulders. She’d listened when he talked through his thoughts about the funeral, made good suggestions, held his hand. When he’d moaned about Cat, she’d frowned a little, but said nothing. Now, two days after father had died, his patience was running out. Even if Cat couldn’t face coming to the family home—which was understandable, considering how she’d been treated there—surely she could take two minutes to dash off a note?
Lucy came in with the post, having realised how distressed it was making him the day before. There was a large stack of letters, tied with string, that she put on the coffee table. “These are all condolences, all very kind, nothing unusual.”
“Anything from Cat?”
She shook her head.
“William?”
“No. Nothing. Tom, I’m getting worried. What if something has happened to her? I know Cathy gets caught up in her own business, but she loves you. No matter what her relationship was with your father, she would want to know if you are okay.”
Tom grabbed the poker and stoked the fire. “We didn’t part on the best of terms, the last time I saw her,” he said. “I closed down her printing operation and exiled our former governess who’d been helping her distribute those damn pamphlets.” He saw Lucy wince. “I had to do it! I couldn’t let the Patroons trace the distribution of seditious material to the Duchess of Londinium! Cat didn’t see it that way. Obviously.” He jabbed at a partially burned log, watching chips of glowing wood spark up. “It seemed so important at the time. Now it just seems ridiculous.”
Lucy came over and rested her hand on his arm. “I think this sort of news would make Cathy feel the same way. That’s why I’m worried. I don’t think she’s petty enough to let something like that come between you at a time like this.”
Tom nodded, tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear affectionately, and stroked her cheek. He wanted to say how much it meant to him to have someone to talk to, someone to carry the load with him. He wanted to tell her that he was glad she was there, that she was making this all bearable. But somehow he couldn’t quite grasp the right words to express it all. So he looked back at the fire and put his arm around her, pulling her close, hoping she could tell.
“I was thinking that I should go back to Londinium for a few hours this afternoon,” Lucy said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I need to make sure Edwin is okay.”
Tom had forgotten about her cousin and felt wretched for doing so. “Of course,” he said. “I was planning to go through Father’s study. I think Edwin will be better company.”
“Are you sure? It’s very soon, darling.”
He didn’t want to do it, but he had to be certain those deeds hadn’t been misplaced. The Irises could have forged them, after all, and his uncle wasn’t going to wait for long to resolve the problem. Besides, it was Father’s last wish to take care of the family’s responsibilities. What kind of son would he be if he hid away whilst the Irises capitalised on his grief? “I need to face up to it at some point. It’s been…cleaned in there.”
Would he ever stop seeing his father slumped at that desk? He felt Lucy’s embrace tighten and placed the poker back in its rest so he could wrap his other arm around her too.
The rattling of a Letterboxer made them jump and separate. Lucy went over to collect the envelope as he readied himself for whatever could be within.
“It’s addressed to me,” Lucy said, sitting down.
“I’ll ring for tea,” Tom said, pulling the cord next to the fire.
He watched Lucy open it and turn straight over to the end to see whose signature lay there. “It’s from Cathy!” she said, frowning. “But it isn’t the usual paper, and it looks like it’s been written with a strange pen.”
“What does she say?”
Lucy read, her eyes growing large with shock. By the end of the first page her jaw had dropped open. She flipped over and read swiftly as Tom’s sense of dread built. What had Cat done now? He was certain it was something terrible.
“Oh, Cathy,” Lucy said, then covered her mouth. She looked horrified.
“What is it? Is she unwell? Does it say why she hasn’t come?”
Lucy held up her hand and Tom swallowed down his irritation at the gesture. When she reached the end of the letter, she rested it on her knee, staring into space for a moment. “Tom…Cathy has left Will.”
He swore under his breath. “She’s run away? Again? I cannot believe this!”
“Tom—”
“Ho
w can she think that is the best course of action? Can she not see how the Irises will—”
“Tom!” Lucy’s raised voice cut through his rant. “Darling, I don’t know how to say this. She…had good reason. Will did something terrible. Truly terrible, and she fled. She’s staying with someone she won’t name, being protected from Iris magic.”
He could see she was shaken. “What did William do to her? Did he hurt her?”
Lucy nodded. “He didn’t hit her. It was worse. He…made her…” She looked away and then after a slight nod to herself, looked back at him. “I think you need to know this, Tom, but it’s horrible.”
The sensation of rising anxiety filled him, just waiting for something to land on, like a flock of birds sent into the air by a farmer’s gun. “Tell me.”
“He gave her a Charm to make her unable to resist his advances and he raped her. Repeatedly. Whilst the Charm tricked her into thinking she was falling in love with him. Then when she wanted to delay having a child, he put a choker on her that contained a jewel to make her more…” her lips curled in disgust at the very thought of it, “…compliant. Like a slave, without her knowing it.”
Tom pressed his fist against his mouth, trying to separate out all of his tangled emotions.
“Tom?” Lucy sounded worried. “We’re not going to have a problem here, are we?”
“Why did he do that?”
“Which part?”
He was referring to all of it, but that wouldn’t help with the detangling. “The first Charm.”
“Because he thought his right to have sex with her was more important than the fact that she didn’t want to sleep with him. She didn’t want to marry him, remember? And she barely knew him.”
“But…they were married.”
He looked at Lucy and saw a glare so potent, so fierce, she looked like another person. “Are you seriously going to tell me she had no right to refuse? Because if you are, I don’t think I can handle that.”
Pressing his fist back against his lips, he wrestled with the conundrum. He’d always been taught that once you were married, you enjoyed conjugal rights. It was expected. Cathy would have known that. Lucy hadn’t resisted. They had both been nervous and there was a certain amount of embarrassed fumbling on his part, but there was never any question of whether Lucy was willing or not. In fact, she’d kissed him first. He remembered it clearly. He’d been worried about how to start and had been so shocked when she’d tugged on his cravat and pulled him down to kiss her, as if she’d waited long enough.
Had Lucy been reluctant, would he have forced her? A shiver went through him. He tried to imagine what was going through Will’s mind to cast magic upon his wife and take her against her will. Even with a Charm that removed the need for violence, having that intimacy and knowing it wasn’t real? His fist clenched tighter. It was disgusting.
“I could never do that to you,” he said, and Lucy’s glare melted. “I could never force you, even if it seemed you wanted to, not if I knew it was because of a Charm.” He couldn’t quite believe he was talking about such things with her. But nothing about the past two days had been normal. She leaned forwards and kissed his cheek. “Lucy, this is a terribly forward question and…I find this very difficult but…you didn’t mind…having to…with me…that night? And since?”
He hoped for an immediate denial, an instant soothing of his fears, but she said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. “I was relieved that you were so handsome,” she said. “And I would have preferred to know you better first. To have had the chance to fall in love before we consummated our marriage. But…but I’d prepared myself for it.”
“You make it sound like an exam!”
She laughed. “No, nothing like that! I meant emotionally. I mean, surely you must have, too?”
He knew he was blushing and he hated it. “I might have considered it when the engagement was announced, I suppose.”
Lucy laughed again, but it didn’t seem unkind. “Oh, Tom. You are so British it hurts.”
Not understanding what she meant, he just smiled. But then he remembered when he found Cat after all those years of searching, how he’d literally carried her out of her flat over his shoulder. While he hadn’t felt good when he did it, now was the first time he’d feared it had been the wrong thing to do. He’d dragged his own sister back to a world where she could be married against her wishes, to a man who had done that to her.
Then he thought of his mother and how he hadn’t once considered why she’d left. He’d just been furious at her for leaving Father and abandoning everything. But had she been married to him against her will? Had she been forced to endure years and years with a man she hated? With a man who might have— He stood up and went back to the fire, taking the poker from its rest and stabbing at the embers, trying to push such awful thoughts away.
“She says she’s never coming back,” Lucy said. “And that she’s just been told about your father, but she can’t believe it’s true; that’s why she wrote this and sent it to me. She didn’t want to upset you if it proved to be a mistake. She’s worried about you, Tom. So, you see, she isn’t as bad as you think.”
“No wonder Will has been so absent of late,” Tom said. “He must be distraught.”
“He must be feeling guilty as hell,” Lucy said, without sympathy. “He can’t hide this forever. This will be the end of him.”
Tom turned and looked at her, their eyes meeting in a moment of mutual understanding.
“We could make that happen,” Lucy said.
Tom shook his head. “No! That just wouldn’t be cricket.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It wouldn’t be the decent thing to do.”
“Tom, are you hearing yourself right now? This is the man that raped your sister and collared her like a slave! His dad stole your inheritance! Taking down William Iris is the only decent thing to do!”
It was too much, all at once. Everything he’d had an unshakeable faith in was crumbling around him. There was no desire to fight, nor to hurt another, despite the fact that at his core he agreed with her, and wanted to see Will destroyed for what he’d done. But what sort of a man would that make him, to give in to such base urges? His head hurt too much to think. “I have the most appalling headache,” he said, putting the poker back. “Tell Wilson to turn away any visitors. I need to lie down.”
• • •
Fearing that if he just snatched at Sophia, there would be violence, Will followed his father out of the schoolroom in the hope he could persuade him to leave her there. Sophia’s bottom lip wobbled as she stretched over their father’s shoulder towards him. “Father, does anyone know about the specifics here? Do you really need to fall on your sword?”
His father threw a puzzled glance over his shoulder. “Hardly falling on my sword. This is the best we can do in a difficult situation. I know this isn’t what you want, but I have to do what is best for our family.”
“But taking her to Iris isn’t the best for Sophia!”
“Where’s Iris?” Sophia sniffled. “I don’t want to go there! I want to stay with Will-yum!”
“You’re just upsetting her,” George said as he reached the green baize door. “I think it’s best you stay here. Once I’ve straightened everything out I’ll come back to you.”
George opened the door. Will looked behind him to see Vincent standing white-lipped down the corridor. Frustrated with his uncle’s weakness, Will beckoned him to follow with a scowl. Did his uncle not see that he needed him? That Sophia did too?
“How is taking Sophia to Iris straightening this out? Won’t he be furious with you? With all of us?”
“Better to face that head on. Did I not teach you anything?”
“How has hiding her for five years been facing this head on?” Will couldn’t help his voice rising at the flagrant hypocrisy. “And you always taught me to do everything I could to keep our patron happy. How is admitting this going to do that
?” Sophia started to cry and Will felt terrible for upsetting her. “It’s all right, darling. Father and I just disagree, that’s all.”
“I want to stay here!” she wailed, throwing her head back and arching her body, pushing against their father’s shoulders so suddenly that he almost dropped her as they crossed the landing.
George stopped and gave her a shake. “Stop it!” he said so sternly that she just stared with huge, horrified eyes. Will doubted she’d ever been told off by him before.
Will looked back, seeing that Vincent followed them like a shadow. “Uncle Vincent, tell him there’s another way!” Will said with desperation as George started to head downstairs. He remembered the doorway between his study and his parents’ house. No doubt George saw the covered mirror in there on his way through before. Vincent opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked like he could pass out any moment.
Getting over the shock of being chastened, Sophia sucked in a breath and started to sob, tears running down her cheeks as George reached the bottom step. Will raced down the stairs after them, reaching out to brush Sophia’s hand before George twisted her away.
“Iris will punish you, and Mother,” Will said as they went down the hallway. “Can’t you stop and think about Mother? How angry Iris will be with her? With both of you?”
“It will be nothing compared to his rage if we continue this charade,” George said, opening the door to the study. “It’s only a matter of time before he finds her, son, and you need to accept that and take it like a man. Like a duke.”
Will faltered at the doorway, feeling like he’d been gut punched, before rushing into the study to step in front of his father before he could get to the mirror. “Forgive me, Father, but I thought that being a man was all about protecting and fighting for those we love. As I fought for you when that Arbiter falsely arrested you. If I hadn’t gone to the Patroon, you’d be in Mundanus now, rotting away!”
His father’s eyes fixed him with an angry glare but then softened. He put his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Your loyalty is admirable. But in this case, Will, it is misplaced. Let it go.”
