The Troublesome Apprentice (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 1)

by Liza O'Connor

  She stared at him. “If you are simply trying to get me out of the way so you can work on your secret case—”

  “I am requesting it because you appear to have acquired a very useful tool for our trade and I would like to understand it better.”

  “Oh…I’ll retrieve it at once,” she replied and left his office.

  God, the tension between them was unbearable. If he didn’t get this straightened out soon, he might lose the finest apprentice in England. If she decided to leave him, he’d recommend she be recruited into External Affairs, so her brilliance could help keep the country safe. But how the hell would he get on without her? She had become the center of his life.

  He left his office soon after Vic went to retrieve the box. He walked down the block and entered the bookstore. Ensuring the store was void of any customers, he selected a book, slipped a note inside and handed it to the owner of the store. “Wrap this please.”

  The man took the book into the back and returned a few minutes later with a wrapped package. Xavier paid him and returned to his office. After unlocking the back door, he returned to his inner sanctum.

  He had barely resumed his seat when his expected visitor, Raphael, arrived. “That was a fast response.”

  “I happened to be in the back picking up messages when you arrived.” The man sat down. “Your note said you needed to see me at once.”

  “Yes, I believe I will be able to track the Scarlet Nun regardless of his magic tricks next time. Let me know in advance where you believe he will strike so I can seed the area with my own magic dust.”

  Raphael’s right eyebrow rose. “You sound sure of yourself. I would have thought yesterday would have humbled you a bit.”

  “It only told me I need my own magic, which I believe I have.”

  “Would you care to explain?”

  “No, I would not.”

  “Without further information, it is possible you’ll be refused, since you are bearing the blame for losing our quarry yesterday.”

  Xavier’s temper flared at the unfairness of Raphael’s words, but he revealed nothing as he emptied his pipe and packed new tobacco inside. “You cannot say who allowed him to slip away, unless you know when and how he disappeared, which you don’t. However, I have strong reason to believe it won’t happen again with me.”

  “I need more than beliefs, my friend.”

  “By all means, attempt to find him without me, and when you continue to fail, try to recall I have the solution,” Xavier snapped and stormed to the door and opened it in a not too subtle gesture for him to leave.

  Raphael sighed and squeezed Xavier’s shoulder as he walked out. “I will try my hardest to have you included, but I wish you’d trust me with more details.”

  “I cannot. With a traitor among the Queen’s men, I dare not risk the inventor of my magic.”

  Anger flared in the man’s eyes. “You’ve no idea the damage your assumption of a traitor has caused. We all eye each other with mistrust. We’ve no cooperation or support and when matters go bad as they did yesterday, the fingers point in every direction.”

  “At me, evidently, who is the only person I’m certain is neither the spy nor traitor. If I had wished Mr. Schuhmeister killed, I had only to shoot him in the chest rather than the wrist when I arrested him.” Xavier heard the carriage pull up outside. “Leave, for my secretary has returned.”

  Raphael disappeared out the back before the front door opened and Vic entered with a wooden box. She carried it into Xavier’s office and placed it on his desk. He closed the door and took a position very close beside her to listen attentively as she explained how it worked again. She sprinkled a few grams of her chemical dust on a sheet of paper, turned the machine on and swung it near and away from the paper. “Do you see how the clicks lessen and increase as I move it about?

  “May we try the trail the boy left yesterday?” Xavier asked.

  Vic nodded and carefully replaced the dust into the container. She folded the paper and placed it inside her box as well.

  “Is the dust dangerous? You seem to be handling it with caution.”

  “It may be. According to my professor, people working with the metals are more likely to have chronic illnesses. This mixture is diluted with only a bit of radium, but I still prefer to be careful.”

  Xavier nodded and followed her outside. He smiled when the machine still registered the boy’s trail. After they had followed the trail for a block, he asked if he could handle the contraption. She paused only a moment before handing it over.

  “Please be careful for I cannot replace it.”

  “I will guard it with my life,” he assured her. He soon discovered following the trail far more difficult than she made it appear. Vic corrected him by turning him in the proper direction several times.

  “You are proving to be a more patient teacher than I.”

  She smiled. “Well, you forget, I know where the trail went from yesterday, if not I’d probably be running off in the wrong direction as well. I believe the lesson we’ve learned from today is the trail gets lost very quickly on crowded streets.”

  “I think I’ve learned more than that. I believe we’ve determined you’ll go to extraordinary lengths not to learn the more tedious parts of your occupation.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If you are insulted by the machine, I will take the offensive instrument back.”

  Xavier ignored her and motioned for Davy to meet them with the carriage. Once inside, he placed the machine beside him. “I wish to keep your device for the next week.” Before she could object, he added, “And I wish to know the details of the personal case you took on this morning.”

  “Are you going to tell me about yours?”

  He sighed. “If I could, I would, but I cannot.”

  “Are you planning to use my machine for the case?”

  He nodded.

  “Just remember what I said about the chemical dust. Don’t let it get on your hands or clothes and try not to breathe in while it is near your face. And remember, you only need a very light sprinkling.”

  “Have you ever tried it on carpets?” he asked.

  “No, but it should work. However if you care about the people who normally occupy the room, the carpet should be removed afterwards.”

  Xavier frowned. “If this powder is so dangerous, I am not keen about you handling it.” After a brief pause, he added, “I speak personally, not as your mast…employer.”

  She smiled at his self-correction. “Well, personally, I am very worried about you handling it, as well, for it is all too easy to disregard my concerns, since the dust appears quite harmless.”

  He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “We will work our way through these tangles.”

  “I appreciate your patience,” she said as she pulled her hand from his.

  “Don’t.” His tone turned harsh and angry.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t presume I possess patience. I am completely out of the commodity.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing will change between us professionally…at least on my part. I would like your word no matter how angry you become personally, professionally you will treat me the same as now.”

  “I am not ready for matters to change between us personally.”

  “Well, I fear it might, because regardless of how little you seem to want me, I suspect the moment I find release elsewhere you are going to be most angry.”

  Her eyes flared. No, she did not like the idea of sharing him at all. It gave him hope this battle would be short lived.

  “And just who do you plan to replace me with?”

  “I am not replacing you. Professionally, no one could.”

  “And personally?”

  “We have no personal relationship. You have completely withdrawn. You cannot even bear for me to hold your hand now.”

  “I have simply asked for time.”

  “And you shall have it. The moment you
are ready to share my bed, I will cease to be a member of Lady Anne’s club.”

  “Lady Anne? Mr. Hart’s Lady Anne?”

  “Yes. She is in the profession of relieving men’s needs and reputed to be a highly accomplished young woman, easy to respect. That appeals to me far more than other alternatives.”

  “But her estate is in the country.”

  “True, but we do not normally work on the weekends, and I have concluded you no longer wish to spend them with me.”

  Tears welled in Vic’s eyes, but he hardened his heart to her pain. Fortunately, the carriage pulled to a halt, and he escaped, leaving her to exit when she recovered.

  Chapter 30

  Lady Anne.

  From Xavier’s notes, Vic knew the siren could seduce any man she wished. She had won the heart of the Earl of Carlington, who preferred men, and Mr. Hart stood ready to risk everything to rescue her. The enchantress would seduce Xavier, as well.

  Nausea swept over her. She’d expected Xavier to threaten he’d visit a whorehouse, and she was prepared to call his bluff. She also doubted he would invest the time to obtain a mistress…but Lady Anne…she would have all the advantages of a mistress and none of the negatives. Worse yet, Vic might permanently lose Xavier to this siren.

  The next morning when she arrived to work, she spotted at once the wrapped object on her desk. A gift. She smiled, hoping it meant he had changed his mind and wanted to put matters right between them personally. As she unwrapped the thick paper and read the title “Treatment of Battle Wounds”, all hope of reconciliation died. No. The man she loved with all her heart had just declared war.

  Avoiding Xavier as much as possible, she remained focused on business. A messenger delivered a letter at three. She knocked on his door and handed it to him when he gave permission to enter. He thanked her.

  She turned to leave, but he asked her to wait. When he finished the note, he passed it on to her.

  The note was from Stone. He wrote Charles Kingsley had been captured today when he arrived at Edward Wimple’s house. He would remain in jail pending his trial for four murders. Stone asked whether he or Xavier should break the news to Mrs. Wimple before it came out in tomorrow’s paper.

  “Are you up to breaking bad news?” Xavier asked.

  “I would hardly call it such. He planned to kill her,” Vic reminded him.

  “Yes, but Mrs. Wimple didn’t know that, and even when you tell her, she is not likely to believe you.” He stared out the window. “We’ll receive no appreciation from our client. More likely, she will hate us for our involvement.” He turned his chair to face her. His eyes hard and unforgiving. “So I ask again. Do you tell her or shall we leave it up to Inspector Stone?”

  “I notice you didn’t include yourself in the choices,” Vic snapped.

  “Certainly not. I lack the skill of being kind and gracious to women who prefer to hear lies rather than face the truth, even when all common sense would indicate the truth would be more helpful.”

  Vic frowned, wondering if he still spoke of Mrs. Wimple. Was she avoiding the truth when she retreated from the intense love between them? Had the book been a last attempt to make her see that her fear only hurt them both.

  “I think we owe her a visit,” Vic replied.

  “Has she paid her bill?” he challenged.

  “No…”

  “Nor will she once she learns how we have ruined her life.”

  “That is her choice,” Vic said. “But I believe we have an obligation to finish this, to lay the whole truth out before her.”

  “Inspector Stone can do it as well.”

  “Nonetheless…”

  “All right. You should do it now. Take your gun and be prepared to use it if necessary.”

  “I’m not shooting Mrs. Wimple!” How could he suggest such a thing? But after the pain she has caused him, perhaps he thought her capable of any atrocity.

  “Even if in her grief, she pulls a gun and aims it at you?” he challenged with a raised brow.

  “Even then.”

  Xavier sighed and stood up. “I suppose both of our days must be wasted on the matter. Let us go now and get it over with.”

  “You are not going to shoot Mrs. Wimple either!”

  “Probably not. With two of us there, I hope she will not attempt such a foolish response,” he said. “Close up the office, Vic. You’ll be in no condition to work afterwards and will no doubt wish the comfort of those you love, so I will take you directly home.”

  His words tore at her heart. He made it sound as if no love remained between them anymore. She turned and left his office so he wouldn’t see her tears. If Davy heard her sniffles, he pretended otherwise, as he ran out to bring the carriage around to the front door.

  Sitting at her desk, she tallied Mrs. Wimple’s bill. She would do right by the lady, but in return, she expected the woman to pay her debt. She slipped the bill into her vest pocket and followed Xavier out, locking the door behind her.

  Vic hated the uneasy silence in the carriage. While, a part of her wished to accuse him of treating her differently since he had learned the truth, she could not. He had not change until she withdrew. Nor could she complain of his current behavior as an employer. He never yelled now or called her his pup. Instead, he remained quiet, respectful, and sad. His pain and misery radiated from him, and she held the blame for both. He couldn’t appreciate how difficult an act of love was for her! How much was at risk! Fear prevented her from moving forward. Yet, she hadn’t actually remained still, either. In truth, she had peddled backwards.

  Xavier proved to be irresistible. To escape his pull, Vic avoided him entirely. If the loss of his love broke her heart, she had no one to blame but herself.

  When they arrived at Mrs. Wimple’s house, Xavier exited the carriage before her and had given his card to the butler by the time she had joined him. For a moment, she wondered if he even remembered she accompanied him.

  Once the butler led them to the library, he pulled her to his side and whispered, “I recommend you begin with the good news that Edward is not dead.”

  Why had she insisted they do this?

  Mrs. Wimple smiled and grasped her hand. “Victor, come, sit, have tea with me.”

  Xavier took a seat far from Vic and Mrs. Wimple and asked to be ignored entirely.

  Vic graciously accepted Mrs. Wimple’s offer for tea and while they waited, she presented the woman her bill. “I apologize, it appears the previous invoice sent was lost in the mail.”

  The woman flushed. “Not a worry. I will write a check now if you like.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. One of my responsibilities is to ensure payment is received.”

  A moment later, Vic had a check in her hand for the entire amount owed. “Shall I give you more for a retainer to find who killed Edward?” Mrs. Wimple asked.

  “No. We have resolution to the matter.”

  Mrs. Wimple sat down beside her on the couch. “I can see by your face. The news is not good. Do not be afraid to tell me, no matter how ugly the details. I am stronger than I appear.”

  “Some of what I have to say I believe will comfort and please you, while I fear other news may break your heart.”

  She nodded and prepared herself.

  “First of all, Edward is not dead.”

  “But the inspector said—”

  “The man only resembled him. He’d been murdered and dressed in Edward’s clothes and jewelry.”

  “Dear God, I cannot believe Edward would do such a thing. I know he did not wish to be an Earl, but he would not murder to prevent it. He has the kindest heart in the world.”

  “He did not know his lover’s intent until after the deed was done,” Victor assured her.

  “Ollie wouldn’t do such a thing either. I know these men better than anyone. I loved them both. They may be abominations in the eyes of God, but they are gentle and kind.”

  “It was not Mr. Simpson. Another man, a very charismatic and charmin
g man had seduced Edward away from Mr. Simpson. Edward has been in his thrall for some time now.”

  Mrs. Wimple fluttered her fan, trying to comprehend Vic’s words. “Edward is truly alive?”

  “Yes, but he does not wish anyone but you to know. He has no desire to become the Earl. He wants you to leave him dead, for he is not Edward any longer.”

  “What is he?”

  “A beautiful lady, very much like you.”

  The woman grimaced, but after a moment, she nodded her acceptance. “Where does this leave me?”

  “A widow, in possession of a great fortune and young enough to live whatever life you want. You can marry and have children to carry on the title if you wish, or you can remain single and never worry about money again. Your life has been stunted for many years now, but once you recover from your grief, you can start over, and I hope you remember the promise of the future as you suffer the pain from what I must tell you now.”

  Mrs. Wimple stared at Vic in confusion. “But what else can there be? I asked you to find my husband and you have…and I am free. Now, I will marry Charles once he returns from his trip.”

  “Mr. Kingsley was not the man you thought.” Vic took hold of her hand. “He deceived you and he deceived Edward.”

  “Edward…he doesn’t even know him.”

  “He has been your husband’s lover for the past six months.”

  She yanked her hand away. “Impossible!”

  Vic sighed. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. I witnessed Charles Kingsley with Edward. He used both of you. As you know, he is most charming and seductive, but underneath lies an evil man who has murdered many people to get what he wants.”

  “Murder…Charles? It cannot be.”

  “He returned to England today and Scotland Yard arrested him on four murder charges. The Inspector says the case against him is very strong, and he will hang.”

  “But there must be a mistake,” she insisted. “Charles would not do such a thing. Yes…he has a temper, but he is not a murderer.”

  “You asked for the truth,” Vic reminded her as a preface to revealing the worst news; Charles intended to kill her as well.