by C. J. Archer
The magic began its work. The veins in his hand glowed, and I watched as the glow disappeared beneath his sleeve.
"God's balls, what the bleeding hell is that?" Eddie's high pitched shout had a strong Cockney accent that I'd never heard from his lips before. He'd finally shed the last layer of his mask, but it had taken a shock on a monumental scale to do it. "Jesus, get him off me! Get him off!" He tried to wriggle out from beneath Matt, and I struggled to keep the magic watch in place. If he didn't lie still, I would lose my grip.
I balled my free hand into a fist and smashed it into Eddie's jaw. His head hit the floor. His eyes rolled up and closed. The room fell blessedly silent, allowing me to listen.
I leaned closer to Matt, my ear to his lips. He breathed. Thank God, he still breathed, albeit shallowly. But his blood was everywhere, pooling on the carpet, over Eddie…
It seemed to take an interminably long time for the magic to reach Matt's face. Time in which I became acutely aware of the others watching us.
"Is he…" It was Willie, kneeling beside me. She, Duke and Cyclops must have rushed inside when they heard the gunshot.
Behind her, Miss Glass watched, her hand clasping her throat, her eyes huge. She did not speak, but she was aware of her surroundings now, of that I was sure. I became even more sure when she ordered the servants out.
They exited the room just as Matt's fingers twitched. He opened his eyes and his gaze fell on me. I tried not to cry. I really did try very hard. But it was hopeless. The tears ran down my cheeks unchecked.
Willie was the first to hug me, followed by Duke and Cyclops who then helped Matt to sit up.
Willie pointed her gun at Eddie, also regaining consciousness. "Shall I shoot him?" she said. "He shot you, so it's only right."
"Yes," Miss Glass said. "I, for one, would be happy if you shot him. I'll even tell the police I did it in self-defense. They won't arrest me."
I lay a hand on Willie's arm, just in case she thought Miss Glass's assurance gave her free rein to do as she pleased. She snatched up Eddie's gun and stepped back. She did not holster her weapon.
"Wh—what happened?" Eddie sat up unassisted, rubbing his jaw.
"India punched you," Miss Glass said, crossing her arms. "And you thoroughly deserved it."
Matt smiled weakly. "Good for you, India."
Willie patted my shoulder. "Feel better?"
"Somewhat," I said.
"You know what'll make you feel better?"
"Tea? Sherry?"
"Shooting him." She flipped her gun around and held it handle-out to me. "Go on. Miss Glass'll take the blame."
Eddie put his hands in the air. They were covered in Matt's blood. "Blimey, India, you won't, will you? You and me got too much history."
"We have no history," I said. "You're a different person to the one I thought I knew." I turned my back on him. There was nothing more to say, no words that could express how much I loathed him.
Matt offered up a small smile and touched his fingers to mine. He still sat on the floor, his face deathly pale except for the dark smudges beneath heavy-lidded eyes. He needed to rest.
He clasped Cyclops's offered hand and stood. Blood smeared down the front of his clothes, obscuring the hole the bullet made. I dearly wanted to inspect the wound, just so that I could see for myself that the watch had indeed worked its magic, but there were too many people in the room.
"Gawd almighty," Eddie murmured shakily. "You're…you're immortal."
"Take him to Scotland Yard," Matt said, tucking his magic watch back inside his waistcoat. "Tell Inspector Brockwell how Jack Sweet, also known as Eddie Hardacre, duped India and her father then tried to win India back. Having none of it, India refused him."
Eddie snorted. "They won't believe that."
"Upset at the rejection, Eddie took the household hostage in the hope that would force her to change her mind."
Cyclops grabbed one of Eddie's arms and Duke the other. They marched him out of the room, his feet hardly touching the floor.
"Put me down, you lumps of shite!" he growled.
"I'll go too and keep him in line," Willie said with glee. "I ain't going to let him speak to my friends like that."
"Be sure to hit him if he becomes too crass," Miss Glass said.
Willie patted the older woman's shoulder as she passed. "I like you more and more, Letty."
"It's Miss Glass to you."
Once they were gone, Matt took his aunt's hand. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was remarkably steady considering her ordeal. "I am now. I, I don't seem to recall very much before you got…" She went to touch his chest but pulled back.
"There's not much to tell," Matt said. "He wanted Chronos and was prepared to keep us all hostage until he got him. By the way, is he really gone?"
She nodded. "He left a note for India."
I blinked owlishly back at her, trying to take it in. Chronos gone? But I'd only just met him.
"India?" Matt frowned at me.
"I'm all right." It was the truth, and I smiled to reassure him. It wobbled a little, which was odd because I was completely unconcerned by the news. I'd never had a grandfather so his leaving didn't matter.
"I'll check on the servants," Matt said. "When I come back, we'll talk."
"Certainly not." Miss Glass patted his cheek. "I'll speak to the servants while you bathe and change. Do not sit on anything until you're clean. Is that understood?"
Matt sketched a small bow. "Yes, ma'am."
"Don't mock me." He lightly kissed her forehead and she smiled up at him. "You are all right, aren't you, Matthew?"
He nodded. "Completely unharmed."
"Then go and clean up before dinner."
I went to follow her out but Matt caught my arm. "Don't run off yet."
"I'm not running off." It was precisely what I was doing. Being alone with Matt at such an emotional time would play havoc on my nerves. We'd been alone all of three seconds already and my heart flipped wildly in my chest.
"You're avoiding me," he murmured in my ear. "And I know why."
He couldn't possibly read my mind that well. On the other hand, he often knew what I was thinking. I gulped, not ready for this discussion now.
"You don't want me to admonish you," he said.
Oh. Er… "Admonish me? For what?"
"You were about to tackle Hardacre on your own when he went to crush my watch. What did you plan to do? He had a gun, for Christ's sake."
"I…I don't know. I wasn't thinking, just reacting."
"He would have shot you before you could reach him."
"My watch would have saved me."
"Against a bullet?" He drew in an unsteady breath and shook his head. "Don't do anything so foolish again."
"You did something equally foolish, Matt. You may have been counting on your watch saving your life, but how could you know you wouldn't bleed out before the magic worked?"
"There was no other option."
He was right, of course. My shattered nerves simply needed to get it off my chest.
"You're going to cry, aren't you?" he said gently.
"No."
But his lopsided smile and warm eyes made a liar of me. Fresh tears welled. Happy tears. He was alive. We all were. Nothing else mattered.
He went to wipe away my tears with his thumb but noticed the blood on his fingers. "I would offer you my handkerchief but it's not in a fit state for a lady."
"You are not in a fit state for anyone," I said, attempting lightness.
He opened his jacket and waistcoat, and undid his shirt. I ought to look away but if he didn't mind revealing himself to me, then surely it was perfectly all right for me to look. After all, I'd seen his chest before so I wouldn't be overwhelmed by the sight.
Overwhelmed I was not. But mesmerized, yes. I couldn't take my gaze off the smoothness of his skin stretched over strapping muscle, the smattering of hair only enhancing his masculine p
hysique. My gaze dipped lower to the drying blood and the wound inflicted by the bullet at his stomach. It had already closed over, leaving only a small scar.
"It will vanish almost entirely in time," he said.
"Yes." My voice was thick with wonder and emotions I couldn't express for fear of opening the flood gates. "The bullet?" I said, concentrating on practical matters.
"It'll remain in me, I suppose. Dr. Parsons took out the last one, but it wasn't necessary."
I nodded and folded my arms lest I reach out and touch the scar. "You'd better do as your aunt suggests and bathe." I turned to go but he once again stopped me.
"India," he purred.
I blinked at him when he did not go on. Should I encourage him to say what he wanted to say? Or would that also open the floodgates?
"I want you to know that Eddie is wrong," he said. "Don't listen to him."
"I don't."
"You're clever and kind and beyond lovely."
"Thank you, Matt," I managed to say despite my welling emotions.
"I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. Ask any man. Christ, ask Barratt, if you like." He shook his head. "Eddie doesn't see you for your worth because there's something wrong with him. At first I thought him a misogynist, but I don't think that's the entire explanation. There is a fundamental flaw in him as a human, something that stops him having empathy for others. You cannot put any stock in what someone like that says."
My eyes burned, and once again my tears hovered on the brink. I could only manage a nod to show him I agreed with everything he said. Eddie's words did not affect me. How could I believe I was any of the things he called me when Matt believed the opposite?
"Go and read your letter from Chronos in private, and I'll see you soon." He kissed my cheek, somewhat shyly. "And thank you for saving my life. Again. I'm beginning to think I cannot live without you."
I watched him leave the drawing room, his shoulders a little rounded from exhaustion but his head up. He didn't look back and so did not see my tears flowing silently and freely.
"He left London altogether," I said as we sat at the dining table the following morning. We were all there except for Miss Glass, who chose to breakfast in her rooms. With the door shut, and Bristow told to keep the servants away, we could talk without being overheard.
"But not the country?" Matt asked.
"Just London. He did not mention where he was going or what he was doing. He might be looking for Dr. Millroy's illegitimate son or he might have given up."
"What else did his letter say?" Willie asked from the sideboard where she was collecting more bacon.
"You don't need to answer her, India," Duke said with a glare for Willie.
"She does if it's relevant," Willie shot back.
"It's her private letter!"
"Ain't nothing private 'round here."
"Is that so?" Duke pointed a butter knife at her. "Then why you being all secretive? Why are you always at the hospital lately when you ain't sick?"
"We ain't discussing me." She sat at the table directly opposite him. I didn't think it a safe place to sit, considering they were within kicking distance of each other. "We're discussing Chronos."
"He told me he taught me everything about my magic that he could," I said before they continued their argument. "He suspects that the spell in Dr. Millroy's diary, combined with the one he taught me, will fix Matt's watch when spoken by a doctor and timepiece magician at the same moment." Chronos had mentioned the problem of the medical spell's pronunciation—how Dr. Millroy had got it wrong but Dr. Parsons got it right. I didn't remind them that an untrained medical magician wouldn't know the right way when reading it.
"We're half way there," Cyclops said, stabbing at a sausage with his fork. "And we know where to start looking for Millroy's son."
"Not yet," Matt said. "After tonight, hopefully."
After yesterday's events, he'd decided to postpone breaking into Lady Buckland's house, but only by one night.
Chronos had written more in his parting letter to me. Aside from mentioning his fear of being caught by the guild or the police, he went on to apologize for abandoning my family when I was a baby. It was impossible to tell whether it was sincere but I appreciated it nevertheless. He added that he regretted leaving again now, and wished he'd had more time to get to know me, although he could tell from our short time together that I was "smart, capable and fierce." Glowing praise indeed, which he then spoiled by telling me that my morals were too strong and would get in the way of my happiness. In case there was any doubt what he was referring to, he told me not to leave it too late to secure Matt in marriage "or any other manner possible." If I did, there was a very real danger that he would give up and another woman would catch his eye, and my prospects for a comfortable life would diminish. My principles would not keep me warm and fed, Chronos wrote.
I received another letter after breakfast, this one from Patience Glass. It was more than an answer to the question I'd asked about her indiscretion. Not only did she admit it, but she went on to beg me to find Sheriff Payne and silence him. It took me several re-reads and a full five minutes to get over the shock. Patience was not the innocent I believed her to be. Of the three Glass sisters, she wasn't the one I expected to have had a secret dalliance.
"That is the exact phrase she used," I said to Matt when I showed him the letter in his study. "'Silence him.'"
"Her definition of silencing someone is unlikely to be the same as mine," he said as he read. "She must have spoken to Hope."
"And it seems Hope has told her everything, or at least the part about Payne blackmailing her. Poor Patience."
"Poor Patience indeed. I'd happily silence Payne if I knew where to find him."
I sat heavily on the chair and rubbed my aching forehead. "I'll write to her and encourage her to talk to Lord Cox. It would be better coming from her than a stranger or via the gossips."
"You know Englishmen better than I," he said. "Do you think Cox would end their engagement over this?"
"He might, particularly if he's marrying her because her reputation is faultless."
"And I thought love mattered above all else in a marriage," he muttered.
"Love doesn't come into the equation with the nobility."
"Then couples only have themselves to blame when they come to despise one another." Clearly he didn't count himself among the nobility.
He skirted the desk and perched on the edge near me. "India," he began. "A letter from my lawyer arrived today asking for your instructions about the Willesden cottage. A newlywed couple have expressed interest in leasing it."
"Oh." I'd almost forgotten about the cottage and the papers waiting for me to sign. I was no longer sure if moving into it and commuting to Mayfair was a good idea. Imagine if I hadn't been present to place the watch in Matt's hand? And then there was the extra time it would take for me to travel to and fro. Some days we couldn't afford to waste precious minutes.
"What would you like to do?" he asked, his voice bland, not giving away his thoughts. "Stay here and lease it, or move there?" He gripped the desk on either side of him, and tapped the underside of the surface with one twitchy finger.
"I don't want to move until I know your watch is fixed. When Dr. Millroy's son is found, and we've infused our magic into the watch, I'll move out."
His finger stopped tapping. His gaze narrowed. "There'll be no need to move then. I plan on giving you every reason to stay…as my wife."
My heart stopped dead in my chest. No, not now. I wasn't ready for this conversation or the argument that would follow when I explained that I cared too deeply about him and his aunt to bring him down to my level. I looked away because the confusion in his eyes clawed at my heart.
"India?"
I shook my head and stood. He caught my wrist and when I still wouldn't look at him, he repeated my name, only gruffer.
"Something is bothering you, and I want to know what," he said. "Is it because
you don't think I'll get better?" When I didn't respond, he went on. "Are you worried I'll want to return to America? Because I don't care where I live."
"Let me go, Matt."
"Is it the Johnson side of my family? I know they're a little frightening, but they won't bother to come here." He paused. "India, look at me. Talk to me."
Bristow cleared his throat from the doorway. I'd left the door open upon my entry to stop Matt broaching topics of a personal nature. I should have known the risk of being overheard wouldn't bother him.
"Yes, Bristow?" I said before Matt could dismiss him.
"Detective Inspector Brockwell is here to see you both," the butler said. "He's waiting in the drawing room."
"Thank you." I pulled free of Matt's grip and walked quickly to join Bristow.
"I took the liberty of asking Peter to bring in tea," the butler said.
"Thank you. Is he all right after yesterday's excitement?"
"I think he rather enjoyed it, miss."
I attempted a smile. "And the other servants?"
"Mr. Glass has promised to increase our wages to compensate for our trouble." He glanced behind us, but Matt had not followed. "Mrs. Bristow is anxious on account of our daughter."
"I'm sure she is. And if anyone wishes to leave, Mr. Glass will understand."
"Thank you, miss."
I reached the drawing room well before Matt and discussed the weather with the inspector until he arrived. He showed no signs that our conversation played on his mind. He was all smiles for Brockwell.
Peter brought in the tea then silently retreated, closing the door behind him.
"What can we do for you, Inspector?" Matt asked as I poured.
Brockwell accepted the teacup and sipped then sipped again. The delaying tactic was one he employed well and agitated me beyond measure. But Matt remained calm, a benign smile plastered on his lips. He let the silence stretch.
"Two things," Brockwell finally said. "I want to know what happened here yesterday evening that led to the arrest of Eddie Hardacre, also known as Jack Sweet."
"I believe my cousin and friends already informed you," Matt said. "I have nothing more to add."
"The thing is, Mr. Hardacre is saying it's all a lie and he was in fact here looking for a man who killed his father, Wilson Sweet."
