All Good Things

by Emma Newman

  There was no point arguing with him, so Cathy headed out of the Circus towards the Royal Crescent. “This is the plan,” Cathy said. “I have a sorcerous door handle that we’ll use to go through the wall, so we aren’t seen by any servants. I’ve got a Charm to deal with the safe, I get the deeds, I get out. I can’t see the point of putting us both at risk. What if he has wards in use? Traps?”

  His uncle laughed. “My dear girl, George Iris is dreadfully dull and one of the most unimaginative men in Albion. It simply won’t have occurred to him that anyone in the worlds would ever dream enter his study without his permission, so he won’t have taken precautions. Be thankful it wasn’t a Digitalis who stole your brother’s inheritance. That would be another kettle of fish altogether.”

  Cathy decided it would be best to stay silent for the rest of the walk. When the Royal Crescent came into view her step faltered. This was madness.

  But then she remembered the suicide note. If she walked away from this now, her father’s last wish to protect his family would not be honoured, Tom would not have his inheritance, and he would have to bow to that disgusting man and accept this injustice. No. She had to help Tom to take the Irises down, publicly, before the worlds were rejoined and they lost the opportunity.

  Uncle Lavandula was strolling as if they were promenading, and any moment Cathy expected someone to emerge from one of the many doors in the crescent. No doubt her uncle would simply bow and wish whoever it was good day. She wasn’t confident she’d be able to handle it with as much grace.

  Cathy sneaked up to the correct space on the wall of the sweeping crescent of houses and pushed the pin in. She twisted it and then stood back as the outline of a doorway burned its way into the stone. When the new door appeared she stepped inside with her uncle and pulled out the handle. The fake entrance disappeared as if it had never existed.

  The study was so neat it felt as if it wasn’t actually used day to day. There were the usual bookshelves, large desk, chair, but not a single thing out of place. “Very tidy people, the Irises,” Uncle Lavandula commented. “Keep your gloves on, dear girl.”

  “Fingerprints…yes, of course,” Cathy had been so focused on the magical aspects she’d forgotten about leaving mundane clues behind.

  “More to maintain the thrill of thievery,” her uncle said. “I’ll look through the desk, you look for a safe.”

  “The deeds won’t be in there,” Cathy said, heading over to the nearest painting of bleak moorland.

  “I agree. I just want to see what he keeps in here.”

  Trying her best to ignore her uncle’s dreadful nosiness, Cathy tried to move the painting aside, but it was so large the frame had been screwed to the wall in several places. Not willing to waste any more time, Cathy pulled out the pouch containing the Charm Tom had given her. “Look away, Uncle,” she whispered. “I’m going to use a Charm.” She jiggled the pouch from its strings and her uncle nodded.

  Once he was looking away—magical dust in the eye was dreadfully painful—Cathy emptied the contents onto the palm of her hand. “I seek the deeds of the Aquae Sulis properties,” she whispered into it, and then blew it as hard as she could, sending a sparkling plume of dust into the air.

  It swirled randomly for a moment and then swiftly coalesced, reminding Cathy of a murmuration of starlings she’d seen in Mundanus. It rose up, twisted back on itself, and then shot towards a section of wooden panelling on the wall opposite the window, sticking to the wood and making it sparkle. The sparkling faded when she touched the panel.

  There was no obvious opening, so she ran her fingers around the edge, hoping for a groove or button. Perhaps it would only open for someone of Iris blood. Maybe her protection against the Irises would prove to be a disadvantage here.

  “Press the top right corner,” Uncle Lavandula said as he thumbed through a stack of papers he had pulled from a drawer. “Then the bottom right, then top left, bottom left.”

  Cathy followed the instructions and with a click the panel slid across, revealing a simple safe with a keyhole, rather than a numbered dial.

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  Her uncle chuckled. “I didn’t just get this outfit made to prepare for this,” he said with an appalling smugness. “I had a…special conversation with Imogen. Before her father declared himself Duke, fortunately, otherwise she never would have told me.”

  “Imogen knows we are doing this?”

  “Of course not, silly girl. She thought I was planning to do something completely different. There aren’t merely property deeds in there, as you’ll see.” He tossed a tiny key over.

  There was more to her uncle than she’d appreciated. How could she have done this without his help? She was so woefully underprepared.

  Inside the safe was a familiar wallet, and with a pang in her chest Cathy saw that it still bore the simple red poppy on the clasp that held it shut. It rested on top of another containing the Iris properties and beneath that was a separate piece of paper. She took it out, along with the top wallet, leaving the Iris property folder inside.

  There was a list of ten names, most crossed out, all men’s names with surnames abbreviated. She saw her uncle’s name right at the top, and Oliver M-P at the bottom, but didn’t recognise any others. “Your name is on this list, uncle, with others that are crossed out. Shit, this isn’t a list of people to kill, is it?”

  Uncle Lavandula stifled a laugh and took it from her hand. “No, dear girl, this is the fabled list of suitors that has kept Imogen awake at night. And I am still at the top.”

  Cathy wrinkled her nose. “She’s far too young for you, even by Nether Society standards.”

  Her uncle glared at her. “How rude! Besides, the Master of Ceremonies is never too old to constitute an excellent match. I suppose George was too busy imposing his wishes on his newly acquired empire to take the time to cross me off. Well, it’s irrelevant now. Pop it back inside, Cathy dear, so George can find it tomorrow and fully appreciate just how difficult it will be to marry off his daughter when his reputation is worth less than that of a Buttercup.”

  Cathy did so and closed the safe before sliding the panel back into place. After checking that the deeds were in fact in the wallet as expected, she went back to the wall. “I have them; we should go.” Her uncle was reading something so absorbing he didn’t hear her. “Uncle! We need to go and meet Max.”

  He tutted at the page, shaking his head in theatrical disapproval. “Well, well, well. I knew George Iris was a dutiful son, but I had no idea he’d stolen so many from Mundanus. It seems Lord Iris has a great appetite for rebellious mundanes. How interesting.”

  Cathy frowned, mentally filing away the information to discuss with Max. Then, thinking there was no point in worrying about her father-in-law discovering the robbery, she took the list from her uncle and stuffed it into the waistband of her trousers. Catching a glimpse of the mundane clothing previously hidden by the large cloak, her uncle raised an eyebrow. “Catherine, dear, I assumed that all was not well in your marriage, considering your eagerness to expose your father-in-law’s crime, but…trousers? Are you quite well?”

  She put the pin of the Opener into the wall. “Everything is just fine,” she said. “Max is waiting down the road for us; I want to get these documents to him right away. Once he’s confirmed the forgeries, you need to get the evidence to Tom as soon as you can. Come on! Let’s go!”

  19

  Will stifled a yawn, uninterested in the ball. Hiding his anger at his father over Sophia was exhausting, especially now he was Duke of Aquae Sulis, and he was thoroughly bored of deflecting enquiries about Cathy. Even the former Master of Ceremonies had been unable to fake his interest in the event; Will had spotted him slinking back into the room after presumably finding a distraction. He was just about to make his own excuses and leave when there was a gasp from the far side of the ballroom, near where the former Censor stood. The guests swiftly parted to reveal Lady Lavender stepping from Exi
lium, through a gilded mirror. She wore a ball gown made of a lilac fabric so fine it looked like layered mist. Her hair, a rich dark blonde, tumbled in tight curls swept away from her face and down her back, reaching the floor. She smiled at Claudia Lavandula, then Richard, both of whom were bowing more deeply than Will had ever seen. He too bowed, as any sensible man would in the presence of the Fae. The smile their patron gave them made him worry. Surely she would be angered by the fact that they’d lost control of Aquae Sulis?

  “We are honoured by your presence,” said the Duke of Aquae Sulis. Lady Lavender barely acknowledged him. When her gaze fell upon Will he bowed his head again, not prepared to stare it out with one of the Fae.

  When he straightened, he saw Lord Iris and Lord Poppy step through the glass just before the mirror rippled and was restored to showing a reflection again. Lord Iris was as cold as usual, while Lord Poppy looked utterly delighted by the shocked expressions around him.

  “My Lord,” Tom said, stepping forwards from the crowd. “I have an announcement to make, with your permission?”

  Will frowned at the way Tom ignored the Duke. “Oh, please, entertain us!” Lord Poppy said with a wave of his black cane. Seeing the look in Tom’s eyes, Will knew he was about to be betrayed.

  “I am not an orator, nor a showman, so I will get straight to the point,” Tom said. “I have indisputable proof that my inheritance has been stolen by George Reticulata-Iris, who, having exploited the untimely death of my father, has seized power in Aquae Sulis by means of forgery and deception.”

  As an excited murmur rippled across the crowd, Will looked at his father, who was glaring at Tom, ready to defend himself. When he opened his mouth to do so, Lord Poppy held up his hand, crossing the room in a few graceful steps to stand between him and Tom. “No, little Iris, I want to hear more about this from my favourite’s brother.”

  “I have obtained the deeds to the properties owned by my family and an Arbiter of the Bath Chapter verified that powerful Iris magic was used to forge the name written on the transfer document for each one. This has been verified by Lady Lavender. My name was replaced with that of George Iris, who claimed that my father signed over his properties to him before his death, giving the Irises the majority in Aquae Sulis. He used this imbalance to force out a power structure that has kept this city civilised and stable for centuries, claiming that my father’s last act was to support his coup.” Tom’s face crumpled for a second, then he regained control of himself. “My father’s last wish was that I protect the tenants that my family have managed with the same care and fairness that we always have, and, specifically, protect them from the likes of you!” He jabbed a finger at Will’s father. “You have stolen my inheritance, twisted my father’s last wishes, and lied to everyone in this city for your own personal gain. You do not deserve the title of gentleman, let alone Duke of Aquae Sulis.”

  When Poppy twisted round to look at the accused, his face was a picture of theatrical shock, his blood-red lips forming a large O shape and his black eyes wide. “You took from my family?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “You stole what was rightfully ours? You stole from the Lavandulas?” He held out a hand towards Lady Lavender, who swept across the ballroom to come to his side as Lord Iris looked on, excluded. “Oh, George. This simply won’t do. Will it, my dear?”

  Lady Lavender’s pure violet eyes darkened to a deep purple. “It. Will. Not.”

  Will’s father looked to their patron for support, only to see Iris turn away, seemingly disinterested. His mother hung her head, looking as though she wished she could disappear. Imogen, who had been enjoying her new status as daughter of a Duke mere moments before, stared in horror.

  It felt as if he’d somehow tumbled into a nightmare. He’d had several since destroying the Rosas, where it was his own family being condemned instead of theirs. Now it was playing out around him, Will could only appreciate how inaccurate those nightmares had been. This was far more terrifying than anything he’d ever woken up from.

  “Do you deny it, sir?” Tom asked, his voice hard.

  “I do not,” was George’s reply, and Will couldn’t bear to look at him as the room reacted with shock. “I sought only to further the interests of my patron and for this I have no regrets.”

  “Well, your patron doesn’t seem very interested in you anymore, Mr Iris,” Poppy said. “I, however, am extraordinarily interested in your punishment. What shall it be?” he said, looking to Lady Lavender. “Perhaps we should curse him to smell like rotting flesh, or simply—”

  “I will decide,” Lady Lavender said. “My family has suffered far worse than yours.”

  Lord Poppy laughed. “I think not. But out of love for you, Lady Lavender, I will accept that we need to discuss the punishment at length.” Poppy smiled at Will’s father. “You may remain intact for now. But we will be seeing each other again, little Iris. And it will not be a day you will enjoy.”

  “Claudia, Richard.” Lady Lavender beckoned to them and both went to attend her with another bow and curtsy. “Even when the Irises appeared to have taken the city, you never failed in your vigilance. This pleases me. You remain, and have always been, Censor and Master of Ceremonies of Aquae Sulis. And may another Iris never seek to take that from you ever again.”

  Will focused on the back of Lord Iris’s head, silently begging for an intervention. How could he abandon them now, when all they’d done was what he’d asked?

  “We are, as ever, your humble servants, Lady Lavender,” the Censor said. “Let it be known that the Irises are exiled from Aquae Sulis. All of their properties are now forfeit and compensation to the Papavers will be discussed forthwith. The Irises will never own property here again, nor will they be permitted to attend salons, balls, or any private social event within the boundaries of this city. All of the properties once owned by Charles Rhoeas-Papaver are now the property of Thomas Rhoeas-Papaver, by right of inheritance. And let no man declare it otherwise.” She turned to look at Will’s father. “You failed, George. Now take your foul family and get out of my city.”

  Imogen glared at Tom with the purest hate before bursting into tears. She and their mother were guided out of the room by the former duke. Surely, Will thought, the Collectors would be here any moment? Or were they to be spared, seeing as his father hadn’t physically hurt anybody? Terrified, Will felt like his feet were rooted to the floor. He didn’t know where to look or how to contain the tumult of shame and embarrassment. Feeling someone’s eyes upon him, he glanced up to see that Tom’s stare was now focused on him.

  “With your permission, my lords and ladies, I have a question to ask of a certain Iris before he leaves.” After their nods, he asked, “William, where is my sister?”

  Lord Poppy’s dark eyes fell upon Will. “Yes! Where is my favourite?”

  For the first time, no clever rebuff, no witty evasion presented itself. There was nothing but fear. Tom was looking at him with the purest of hate, and Will realised he knew that Cathy had left him.

  “Well?” Poppy prompted. “Where is she?”

  A strange relief flowed through Will as the constant fear that his shame would be uncovered evaporated. It was no longer needed, after all; that which he had dreaded for so long was happening. Will rallied, pride surging once more. He wasn’t willing to go down without speaking a few home truths first. “Cathy has proven that Papaver women are flighty creatures with no sense of loyalty. Just like her mother, she has run away, abandoning her duties to the residents of Londinium and to me.” He tried his best to ignore the murmurs fluttering around the room, trapped behind fans, keeping his attention firmly on Tom. “I should have known she’d do this. After all, it’s not the first time Cathy’s run away, is it? Didn’t you spend years hunting her down, Thomas?”

  “Don’t try to distract us from the fact that you have failed as a husband,” Tom said. “I’m sure the residents of Londinium would agree with me when I say a man who cannot maintain his marriage cannot be expected to maintai
n his rule over a city.”

  “You attack me for the same failings as your own father?” Will gave a bitter laugh. “It seems that Papaver men have problems with loyalty, too.”

  “I merely hold you to the same standards as I held my father,” Tom said evenly. “He suffered for his failure. I see no reason why it should be any different for you.”

  “You promised to keep her safe. You said you loved her,” Poppy said. “And yet you couldn’t keep her happy. Unless there is another reason behind this? Iris?”

  Will felt the attention of his patron upon him. “I was told a different story,” Lord Iris said, glaring. “I have been patient. No more. You are no longer an Iris.”

  It felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs, and Will staggered back a step, struggling to breathe. One by one, every person in the room turned their backs on him, all save Nathaniel, who looked like he’d gone into shock. Their eyes met and Nathaniel looked at the doors, pointedly, before walking out of them himself. His brother was telling him to leave. There was no coming back from this.

  Lord Poppy narrowed his eyes at him, as if promising something awful, and then even he turned his back, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Only Tom looked at him now. There was no smug self-satisfaction, no sense of gloating, in Tom’s expression. He simply appeared to be burning the moment in his memory. He gave the slightest nod, as if all was as it should be, and turned his back too.

  Will knew how the Rosas had felt, and it was so much worse than he’d imagined. He felt a sting of tears and then clamped down on his emotions, pushing them down as best he could. There was nothing to be said. Nothing to be done. Will forced his legs to move, one step, then the next, towards the door. He’d allow himself to think later. He’d allow himself to feel later. He left the ballroom, then the Guildhall. Down the steps he went, seeing no one else until he heard Nathaniel call his name.