The Toymaker's Curse (Glass and Steele Book 11) Page 24

  “If the worst happens, we’ll go to America. Gabriel can come with us, since he’ll have to flee England too or risk being imprisoned.” I touched his shoulder until he looked at me. The hollowness in his eyes worried me. “But it won’t come to that, because I’m going to strike a bargain with the government.”

  He frowned. “What kind of bargain?”

  “I’m going to offer to make a list of all known magicians. If something ever goes wrong of a magical nature, then the list can be consulted and the appropriate magician brought to justice.”

  “Or they could use that list to round up every magician and imprison them.”

  “That’s why they’re not going to keep the list. We are.”

  Matt’s smile started out slowly, tentatively, and finished as a grin. “That might be a solution everyone can work with.”

  Matt and I spent the next two days starting our list and writing a document on its aims, benefits, and the rules surrounding its use and storage. We wanted it all in order before we approached Sir Charles Whittaker and the home secretary.

  During that time, the public’s interest in magic didn’t wane. If anything, it grew. Newspaper articles continued to print opinion pieces, although few were from the point of view of magicians. Not all the articles were against magicians. Indeed, some suggested they didn’t deserve to be vilified for something that was not their fault. There were calls for magicians to be allowed to belong to craft guilds and freely trade, to allow the commercial marketplace to decide what to pay for their products and those of their artless competitors.

  Those pieces were few and far between, however. Oscar’s journalistic voice was conspicuous by its absence. He’d not been commissioned by any newspapers to write an article, despite his experience. The reason was revealed the following morning.

  He’d been too busy getting his book published.

  A stack of copies first caught my eye as Aunt Letitia and I passed a bookshop window. The bright orange and black cover with the elaborate gilded border was striking enough, but the title would see the book fly off the shelves.

  THE BOOK OF MAGIC it said in large type. The subtitle stated it was a book about “The facts, myths, histories and rites of sorcery in England and around the world as written by a modern magician.”

  I purchased a copy and started reading on the way home. Upon arrival, I raced up to Matt’s office where Bristow said he was working. I deposited the book on his desk.

  “We need to visit Oscar,” I announced.

  He read the cover then flipped to the first page and began reading. “This will create even more of a sensation.”

  I perched on the edge of the desk. “I suppose that’s the whole point. He decided to rush through its publication to take advantage of the current press.”

  Matt continued to read. “Nash’s chapter on magical history is written in a rather dry style, although the content is fascinating. I hope he doesn’t suffer for his contribution. I’d hate for him to lose his position at the university.”

  “If anyone suffers, it will be the book’s author. I hope Oscar is ready for the backlash.”

  Matt turned the page. “He’s mad to put his name on it.”

  “It would be cowardly of him not to, and no matter what you think of him, he’s no coward. Nor is Louisa. I doubt she would let Oscar publish it under a pseudonym.”

  “That’s because she doesn’t have to bear the brunt of the reaction. He will. They’re not married yet, and I’m beginning to think they may never be.” He placed the book on the desk and tapped the cover. “He should have secured her before this was published. Now she has no reason to go through with the marriage.”

  “You think she’d break off the engagement? Why?”

  He indicated the book. “That’s what she wanted. By being engaged to him, she has been able to be at his side, ensuring he finished it quickly. She has also funded it, I expect, and supported him after he lost his job at the Gazette. But now, what else is in the marriage for her?”

  I shrugged. “The hope that her children by him will be magical? Isn’t that what we’ve always supposed she wanted from him?”

  “Let’s find out, shall we?” He rose and strode past me to the door, only to turn back and grab the book off the desk.

  I had to walk quickly to keep up with his pace. His keenness to leave probably wasn’t so much because he wanted to see Oscar, but more because he was desperate to get out of the house again.

  I insisted he dress like a coachman and sneak out to the coach house where he could instruct Woodall to take the day off. Fifteen minutes later, he drove the carriage around to the front where I climbed in alone. I was pleased to see Willie seated on one side of him and Duke on the other. Willie had a blanket over her lap and I wondered if she clutched her gun beneath it.

  The drive to Louisa’s house was uneventful, thankfully. Duke and Willie remained with the horses and carriage while Matt and I entered the house. As we expected, we found Oscar there too. They were all smiles as they shared a bottle of Bollinger Champagne.

  Oscar indicated Matt’s clothes. “Slumming it, Glass?” He didn’t wait for Matt to answer, but instead tapped the rim of the crystal flute clutched in his ink-stained fingers. “Care for a glass?”

  “It’s a little early in the day for me,” I said.

  Matt simply said, “No. Congratulations, by the way.”

  Oscar eyed him carefully. “Is this the point where you berate me? Tell me what a fool I am for endangering the lives of all magicians?”

  “You seem to have worked that out on your own.”

  Oscar chuckled. I suspected he was already a little drunk. “No, I was merely saying what you are thinking. I know you’ve never been in favor of the book.”

  Matt’s scowl darkened. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought him after all. He’d been cooped up in the house so long, I was beginning to worry that he’d gone a little mad.

  Louisa flitted from the drinks trolley, where she refilled her glass, to the sofa. “Come now, let’s set aside our differences. Today is a unique day, whatever you may think of the book.” She raised her glass.

  Oscar touched his glass to hers and they both sipped.

  Matt continued to scowl. I was worried he might not be able to contain his anger much longer. Perhaps we ought to get this meeting over with quickly and leave.

  “Did you decide to bring forward the book’s release to coincide with all the recent press surrounding magic?” I asked.

  Oscar grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “Since the book was finished, I asked the printer and he agreed. The good thing about being an ink magician is I can write rather fast. As fast as my thoughts form. And I make very few mistakes.”

  Louisa bestowed a somewhat condescending smile on him, like a teacher would a child who’d finally accomplished something he’d been struggling to achieve. “Oscar has been working like a demon since his dismissal from The Weekly Gazette. It was scheduled to be printed next week, but everything changed when we saw the reports in the newspapers. Thank goodness for that Trentham woman. If it weren’t for her magical automaton murdering her husband then we would have needed to find a way to get the bookshops to stock it, but as it turned out, they want more copies than we have.”

  “You do realize Mrs. Trentham died,” Matt growled. “And she murdered her husband with the automaton. It did not act of its own accord.”

  Louisa waved the hand holding the glass. A little Champagne sloshed over the sides. “The point is, we don’t need to do any publicity for the book. It will sell itself.”

  “Thank goodness for losing one’s job so I could finish the thing!” Oscar clinked his glass to Louisa’s again. “Now that it’s all over, I think I’ll ask for my job back. I miss it.”

  “Oh, don’t do that,” she said.

  “Why not? You always said you don’t mind if I continue to work.”

  “Yes, but not there.”

  He blinked at her. “What’s wrong
with the Gazette?”

  “They dismissed you. They don’t want you working there anymore.”

  “That was before. Now that magic is being talked about openly, they’ll want me back to write from a unique perspective. I’ll speak to the editor tomorrow.”

  “No!” Her vehemence seemed to surprise even her. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Don’t do that, Oscar.”

  He frowned. “Why don’t you want me working at the Gazette?”

  She turned to him and took his hand. He snatched it away and she sighed. “Stop acting like a child. All I’m saying is there’s a lot of water under the bridge between you and the Gazette’s editors. Don’t you wish to start afresh? Somewhere nobody knows you?”

  “No. And one or two people aside, the rest of the Gazette staff are magnificent, dedicated, intelligent individuals. I think they’d be happy to have me back to write about magic from my perspective as a magician.”

  Louisa’s smile became strained. “Let me speak to some people. My father was friends with a publisher of a magazine. I’m sure he’ll do a favor for me and hire you.”

  Oscar turned away from her. “I’d rather find my own work, and I wish to return to the Gazette, if they’ll have me.”

  “Well they won’t, will they? They dismissed you. Save yourself the bother and don’t speak to them.”

  “You don’t know they won’t rehire me. You can’t know.” His jaw hardened. “Can you?”

  She sipped.

  “Louisa! Why can’t I go back to the Gazette?”

  She swallowed. “You were dismissed and nobody likes a groveler.”

  Oscar’s nostrils flared “Why are you avoiding looking at me?”

  She looked up and held his gaze.

  “Did you have me dismissed?” he snapped.

  She swallowed.

  “DID YOU?”

  She jumped, sloshing Champagne over the sides of her glass. She switched it to her other hand and shook the spilled droplets from her fingers. She did not take her gaze off him. “It would have taken you an age to finish the book if you continued to work there. The newspaper was taking up too much of your time. This way you could concentrate on it fully, without distraction.”

  “Without distraction,” he bit off. “You’ve kept me holed up here, working my fingers to the bone, with hardly any sleep. And now I discover you had me dismissed!”

  “I’ll get you other employment, Oscar. Stop being silly. The book is all that matters.”

  “It is not all that matters! Not to me. And don’t try to find me other employment. I can find something without you and your bloody self-important connections looking down on me.”

  “Nobody looks down on you.” She plucked the flute from his hand. “Perhaps you’ve had enough to drink.”

  For a moment, I thought he’d snatch it back, but instead he seemed to recall they weren’t alone. He adjusted his tie and tugged on his cuffs. “We don’t usually fight like this. It’s just the surprise of learning that my fiancée has been manipulating my life without my knowledge. We do love one another, don’t we, darling.”

  Louisa sat with a smile plastered to her face. The moment stretched and awkward silence filled it.

  Oscar cleared his throat. “Perhaps not love but we’re fond of one another. Deeply fond. And, of course, there are mutual benefits to our union. We both want it.”

  The more he spoke, the more he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Or was he trying to convince her?

  “We look forward to the wedding.” As soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back. I was no longer sure there would be a wedding.

  Matt, however, didn’t seem to see the problem with my question. “Now that the book is released, you’ll want to focus on the happy occasion next.”

  “Certainly,” Oscar said with a great deal of enthusiasm. “We’re looking forward to it, aren’t we, my dear?” He took Louisa’s hand in his. She grimaced.

  Matt rose and buttoned up his jacket.

  “Going already?” Oscar asked, also rising. “Please stay. We enjoy your company.”

  “Yes, tell us about Fabian,” Louisa said, turning to me. “How is he? Have you seen him recently? Is he well?”

  Oscar huffed out a harsh laugh. “Do you care about me as much as you do about him?”

  “Don’t be so childish,” she spat.

  “Me? Childish? You’re the one who’s in love with another man who doesn’t want you. That’s the height of silliness.”

  Louisa drained her glass, stood and headed for the drinks trolley.

  Matt signaled that we should leave. I gladly followed him out. Their relationship was not a healthy one, and I worried for their future if they went through with the wedding.

  Oscar’s angry voice traveled down the stairs with us. “Do you love him? Or do you prefer him because his magic is stronger than mine? Is it because you wish to have children with iron magic instead of useless ink magic?”

  It was a relief to leave their bickering behind, but as the front door closed behind us, a thought occurred to me. “Coachman!” I called out as Matt settled on the driver’s seat. “I’d like to make a stop on the way home.”

  “Certainly, Mrs. Glass,” he said with mock seriousness. “Do you wish to stop at Lowell and Son to buy your husband a gift? They make fine gloves and Mr. Glass if a fine fellow. He deserves it.”

  “You shouldn’t listen to idle gossip. There’ll be no shopping for my husband today. I’d like to stop at Mr. Charbonneau’s residence.”

  Matt touched the brim of his hat. “Right you are, Mrs. Glass. And might I say how lovely you look today.”

  Willie, standing beside me with her hand on the open door, rolled her eyes. “Sometimes you two make me sick.”

  So much for her maturing.

  Chapter 16

  Fabian deserved to be kept informed of the final developments in the Trentham investigation, and I also wanted to discuss Oscar’s book and the newspaper articles with him. As the most knowledgeable magician of my acquaintance, his opinion was important to me. His first question upon seeing me, however, was about the stolen spell.

  “Has the original been recovered?” he asked after he got over his surprise at seeing Matt dressed in a coachman’s great coat.

  “Unfortunately not,” I said as I led the way into the drawing room. I stood by the fire and removed my gloves. The heat thawed my frozen fingers in an instant.

  “Are you sure you didn’t make another copy before it was stolen?” Matt asked.

  “Of course I am sure!” Fabian drew in a deep breath and put up a hand in apology. “I am sorry. I should not have shouted. I am upset.”

  “Of course you are,” I said gently. “I am too.”

  “What is the inspector doing about it? Has he searched Coyle’s residence?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he doesn’t have enough evidence,” Matt cut in. He sounded a little irritated with Fabian, most likely because he didn’t like me being hounded with questions. “Even if he did, the spell is probably somewhere no one will find it. Not to mention Coyle would have made copies by now.”

  “So we just give up? We do not confront Coyle?”

  Matt squared up to Fabian. Next to the immaculately tailored suit Fabian wore and his perfectly combed hair, Matt ought to look subservient in his coachman’s outfit, but it was the opposite. His height and manner gave him an air of superiority that Fabian did not possess in that moment. Indeed, Fabian seemed quite distressed.

  “I know it’s not what you want to hear,” I said gently. “But we can’t pursue the spell. We must accept that others are in possession of it.”

  “Coyle,” he bit off.

  I sat down, a signal for Fabian and Matt to sit too. “We have to hope he’s content to possess it and not try to find someone to use it in a way that will prove detrimental to the reputations of magicians.”

  “Like the Trentham woman.”

  �
��Like poor Mrs. Trentham.”

  “She was not ‘poor,’ India. She brought trouble on herself when she fell in with Coyle. She must take some of the blame.”

  He was right, and I couldn’t entirely lay the blame at Coyle’s feet. Mrs. Trentham had been greedy. Twice she’d coveted a husband who already belonged to another; not because she loved either of them but because they might be able to give her magician children. But how much of her situation had been her own fault and how much was Albina’s curse on Mr. Trentham to blame for Mrs. Trentham’s madness?

  “One thing to have come out of this was a certainty that we’re doing the right thing in stopping our experiments,” I said. “I know you want to continue to make new spells, Fabian, but we can’t.”

  Fabian rested his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers. “You are right. I agree. It is too dangerous.” He smiled a satisfied smile. “Coyle will be disappointed that there will be no more spells for him to steal.”

  “What will you do now?” I asked.

  “My brother has tasked me with making business contacts here in London.” He pulled a face. “I do not like the iron business, but if I wish for my allowance to continue, I must pull my weight, as you English say.” He winked. “I will also continue with magic research. According to Professor Nash, there are some excellent libraries with some very old books on the subject, but as many are in private hands, he has not been granted access. He hopes with my money and contacts, that will change. We will research together.”

  I rose and put out my hand. “I’m glad you’ve got something to do. I was worried about you being idle.”

  He took my hand and kissed it instead of shaking it. We walked out together, Matt behind us. “Have you read Mr. Barratt’s book?” Fabian asked.

  “Parts of it. Have you?”

  “Yes. It is very good but aimed at the reader with no knowledge of magic. I do not mingle very much in public, but my staff tell me there is a lot of talk about magic among the people now. They are hungry for knowledge. Some are against magicians, of course, but many are curious and in favor. It is an exciting time to be in London.”