The Kidnapper's Accomplice (Glass and Steele Book 10) Page 4

  Willie backed away so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet. “I ain’t signing that,” she said with horror.

  Mrs. Delancey shoved the leaflet into Willie’s chest. Willie took the leaflet and tossed it away then rubbed her chest as if she’d been stabbed.

  The footman re-entered carrying a tray with slices of cake on plates. He handed them around and we resumed our seats. When Mrs. Delancey passed a plate to Willie, she turned her face away and shook her head. She swallowed heavily but thankfully her color remained merely grey rather than green.

  “Speaking of magic,” Mrs. Delancey said to me while I tried to think of a way to extract more information about Sir Charles from her. “How is your work with Mr. Charbonneau progressing?”

  “Slowly,” I said.

  “But you must have advanced. That’s why you asked me about my husband’s family, isn’t it? You needed a wool magician. Did you find one?”

  “Er…”

  “They gave up,” Willie said. “They couldn’t find a wool magician but they did find a jeweler who can do magic.”

  Mrs. Delancey gave a little gasp. “Jewelry magic,” she cooed. “How lovely.”

  I shot a glare in Willie’s direction, but she didn’t notice. She looked rather pleased with herself. “Diamonds, to be exact.”

  Mrs. Delancey clutched her throat, as if she could feel a magical diamond necklace nestled there. “What spell are they trying to create?”

  “Turning gold into diamonds.”

  Mrs. Delancey gasped. “Why gold?”

  Willie shrugged and Mrs. Delancey turned to me for an answer. I stared back at her, utterly lost for words.

  “Only something precious can be turned into a more precious thing,” Willie said with authority.

  Mrs. Delancey nodded in earnest. “Yes, of course. That makes sense.”

  “They’ve got a problem, though.”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  “Willie,” I warned.

  “I know you don’t want me to say, India,” Willie said with a very smug look in her eyes. “But I think Mrs. D. can help.”

  “Oh yes, I’d be glad to help,” Mrs. Delancey said. “Tell me what to do.”

  “You can donate some of your gold jewelry to India to continue the experiment. It takes rather a lot to perfect the diamond creating spell and, well, India has run out of gold.”

  “But Mr. Glass is wealthy, as is Mr. Charbonneau. Can’t they just purchase more?”

  Willie paused ever so slightly, before recovering. “Don’t you want to help with the most incredible magical breakthrough of all time?”

  “Yes, of course I do. Let me fetch something from my jewelry case.”

  “Don’t be surprised if it gets ruined in the process,” Willie said as Mrs. Delancey rose.

  “Willie,” I snapped. “Mrs. Delancey, we have enough gold, thank you.” I cringed. Why was I going along with this? Was there even such a thing as diamond magic? “Willie, we have to go.”

  Willie reached for the cake. “But I haven’t eaten yet.” She took a large bite, only to turn violently green again. She raced to the vase and threw up once more.

  When she finished, she agreed to leave without objection. Mrs. Delancey handed her the leaflet. Willie accepted it, much to Mrs. Delancey’s satisfaction, then wiped her mouth on it and threw it into the vase as she passed on her way out.

  I couldn’t leave quickly enough. “I have never been more embarrassed in my life,” I snapped at her as we drove off. “You threw up in a vase in front of our host!”

  Willie sank into the seat and crossed her arms. “It’s Farnsworth’s fault. Blame him. He made me drink a home-made whiskey at a low-down tavern in Shoreditch. It was so strong it was practically poison.”

  “First of all, no one can make you drink if you don’t want to. Secondly, why didn’t you stop after a sip if it tasted so awful?”

  She answered me with a pout and turned to look out of the window. The view of the scenery speeding past combined with the movement of the carriage must have upset her stomach again. She clamped a hand over her mouth.

  I thumped on the carriage ceiling to let Woodall know we needed to stop. “Do not throw up inside!”

  “I agree with you,” I said to Matt over a light luncheon served in the dining room. It was just the two of us. Cyclops was out, Duke and Aunt Letitia had gone for a walk together, and Willie had retreated to her bed as soon as we arrived home. “Willie is spending too much time with Lord Farnsworth. He’s a bad influence on her.”

  Matt chuckled. “Usually it’s the other way around.”

  “This isn’t funny. She threw up in Mrs. Delancey’s vase. Twice. It was a magical vase, too. She was very upset about it.”

  “Did she get angry?”

  “Worse. She tried to get Willie to sign a declaration of abstinence.”

  Matt laughed harder.

  I smiled too, despite myself. “Willie blames Lord Farnsworth for encouraging her to consume a rather poor yet lethal whiskey.”

  “That seems more likely than she simply drank too much. She knows when to stop,” he added somberly.

  I was a terrible wife. I’d forgotten Matt used to drink to excess. Because it had been some time before he met me, and he never brought it up, I’d put it from my mind. On one of the few occasions he had discussed it, he claimed he didn’t know when to stop. He would recognize the signs in others, particularly someone he was as close to as Willie. I reached across the table and grasped his hand.

  He squeezed. “So Farnsworth is a bad influence,” he said. “What can we do about it?”

  “Warning her to stay away won’t work.”

  Matt agreed. “She needs a distraction. Someone more interesting to her than Farnsworth currently is.”

  “A new paramour?”

  He set down his knife and fork and met my gaze. “Do you think she and Farnsworth are…together?”

  I considered it then shook my head. “She would have told us. She’s not shy about her lovers.”

  Matt picked up his knife and fork again and attacked the slice of beef on his plate. “That’ll make it easier. We just have to find her a new lover; someone who’ll take her attention away from Farnsworth.”

  “Or we could invite an old lover to dine with us. I know she misses the detective inspector.”

  “But does he miss her?”

  The door opened and Cyclops entered followed by Willie, yawning. She lifted the domed cover on the platter then promptly put it back again.

  “I’ll eat later,” she said.

  Cyclops removed the cover and dragged the entire platter towards him. He tucked into beef and potatoes as if he hadn’t eaten for a week.

  “Doesn’t Catherine feed you?” Willie asked.

  “She goes home to her parents at midday. Besides, it ain’t her responsibility to feed me,” he all but snapped. “I’ve got my own home and that’s right here under this roof. I ain’t going nowhere.” His bitter tone had the three of us exchanging glances while he wasn’t looking.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “Catherine’s parents found out that she and I are…” He waved his knife about, trying to find the right word. “That we’re involved.”

  “And they’ve forbidden her to see you?”

  “Not forbidden her. Not yet. They’ve lectured her about what it would mean to marry someone like me, someone so different.”

  Willie threw her hands in the air. “As if she doesn’t already know!”

  “They’re just concerned for her,” I said. “It’s a good sign they haven’t forbidden her from seeing you, Cyclops. It means they’re not completely against you two marrying.”

  He didn’t look convinced and, in truth, neither was I. I suspected ordering her to stay away from Cyclops was the next step, if their lectures didn’t work. They had, after all, forbidden her to see me when they discovered I was a magician. Thankfully Catherine hadn’t heeded their order then, and I doubted sh
e would now and I told Cyclops so.

  “I know,” he said on a sigh. “But I don’t want her to be estranged from her family. It’ll make her unhappy.”

  I touched his arm. “Do you want me to talk to them?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. See if she can convince them herself, first.”

  “She shouldn’t be the one talking to them,” Matt said. “It should be you, Cyclops.”

  Cyclops frowned. “But they don’t like me.”

  “They don’t know you. Let them find out for themselves what a good man you are and they’ll change their tune.”

  I agreed. Willie, however, was silent.

  “What is it, Willie?” Cyclops said darkly.

  “’Course I agree with Matt,” she said. “I like you, and I’m real picky when it comes to letting folk be my friend. I was just wondering who told Catherine’s parents about you.”

  “Does it matter?” he asked.

  “’Course it matters. You gotta find out who did it and string ‘em up.”

  “Cowboy justice is for the Wild West. I don’t care who told them. The fact is, they know.”

  Willie drummed her fingers on the table and twisted her mouth to the side in thought. “One of her brothers, maybe. Not Ronnie, he’s a good man and it doesn’t serve his purpose. But the older one? He’s jealous of Ronnie getting a shop on his own and annoyed their sister’s helping him.”

  “He’s not jealous of Catherine,” I pointed out. “I don’t think it was him.”

  “Who else would care?” Willie suddenly sat up straight and clicked her fingers. “Charity Glass! She’s jealous of their relationship and is mad enough to think Cyclops would care for her if Catherine weren’t around.”

  Matt pointed his fork at her. “You will not speak to her.”

  “But she’s hurting one of our friends!” She waved a hand at Cyclops.

  “Leave it, Willie,” Cyclops said. “Don’t go stirring up trouble.”

  “Trouble’s already been stirred up.” She rose and stormed off.

  “Don’t do it, Willie,” Cyclops called out.

  “I’m just going to see Farnsworth,” she grumbled over her shoulder. “You folk are no fun.”

  Matt sighed. “The sooner you invite Brockwell over for dinner, India, the better.”

  The arrival of Mr. Bunn after lunch dampened our already rather soggy mood further. The last time the leather magician had called, we’d thrown him out. He’d stridently asked me to infuse my extension magic with his to make the leather in the shoes and boots he manufactured last longer. Like Mr. Pyke, he saw nothing wrong with the idea.

  This time, however, he was not alone. He brought a young woman with him. Her dark brown hair was fixed high on her head with what appeared to be two pencils poking through the arrangement. She was petite with a sober mouth and dark eyes that settled on me as soon as Bristow opened the door.

  Bristow had tried to shut the door immediately upon seeing Mr. Bunn, but Mr. Bunn had inserted himself into the gap and forced it back. Since Matt, Cyclops and I were passing through the entrance hall, we stopped to assist the poor butler.

  “Before I shut the door in your face,” Matt said to Mr. Bunn, “I should warn you that my patience has worn very thin. We made it clear that you’re not welcome here.”

  “What’re you going to do?” the woman asked, hand on hip. “Tell Scotland Yard?”

  “Nothing so conventional,” Matt said icily. “Continue to pester my wife, and you will find out precisely what I’m going to do to you.”

  Mr. Bunn swallowed but the woman merely huffed. She sounded impressed by the warning rather than worried.

  “I’ve only come to beg you one more time, Mrs. Glass,” Mr. Bunn said. “Please, use your time spell on my magic.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But I cannot. You know why. My reasons have not changed since last we spoke.”

  Matt went to close the door, but Mr. Bunn blocked it again. “You have to do this! Please! My debts are mounting. I borrowed on the assumption you would use your extension spell, Mrs. Glass.”

  “Then you’re a fool,” Matt said. “Kindly leave or be forcibly moved.”

  The woman snorted and crossed her arms. She reminded me of Willie, a small, courageous, belligerent woman with a big mouth that tended to get her into trouble. “You think you can move both of us?” she spat.

  Matt merely smiled.

  Cyclops opened the door wider so they could see him better. Mr. Bunn suddenly backed away from the door, hands in the air. The woman eyed Cyclops up and down and licked her top lip. Then she too backed away, but with a bravado her companion didn’t possess.

  “You’re being selfish, Mrs. Glass,” she said. “You should be helping your own kind.” She pushed past Mr. Bunn but didn’t try to cross the threshold. “We magicians should stick together. You don’t belong with these artless.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” I said calmly. “Not my husband, not my grandfather, and certainly not you.”

  The woman pointed at me. “You’ll regret not helping us.”

  Matt closed the door in their faces.

  “Want me to make sure they leave the area?” Cyclops asked.

  “No,” Matt said, taking me in his arms. “Are you all right, India?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just a little rattled.” It wasn’t the incident that had rattled me. At least, not this particular time. It was all the incidents together that had me worried. This was the third time Mr. Bunn had come here demanding I use my magic with his, and then there had been Mr. Pyke the other day at Fabian’s. When would it end?

  “I’ll have Fossett answer the door with me from now on, sir,” Bristow said.

  “Thank you,” Matt said. “Have tea brought into the sitting room, please.”

  Bristow bowed and headed to the back of the house while I entered the sitting room ahead of Matt and Cyclops.

  “I think we should tell the police,” Cyclops said. “Maybe Brockwell can send someone to Bunn’s house and let him know he’s being watched.”

  “I’ll visit the inspector later,” Matt said, taking my hand. “This has to stop.”

  “Mr. Bunn is just one magician,” I said. “What about the others? That woman also knows where I live now. How many more has Bunn told?”

  Matt dragged a hand over his face and settled into the sofa. For the first time in a while, he looked worried.

  Duke arrived home with Aunt Letitia, and they joined us in the sitting room. We didn’t tell them what had happened, and she seemed quite oblivious to our dark mood, but Duke eyed us all with suspicion. Thankfully he didn’t prompt us for answers.

  Willie’s entry took everyone’s mind off the incident with her remarkable attire: she wore a dress. Duke whooped with laughter and Cyclops chuckled his deep, throaty laugh. Even Matt grinned.

  “Don’t any of you say a god damned word,” Willie snapped, picking up her skirts to reveal her sturdy cowboy boots. She all but stomped to the fireplace where she stretched her hands to the warmth.

  “You look very pretty, Willemina,” Aunt Letitia said. “Are you in mourning?”

  Willie looked down at her black dress and plucked at the lace sleeve. “It was all I had. My other dress has a stain on it.”

  “From what?” Cyclops asked. “You never wear it.”

  “Jasper spilled something on it.” She faced us fully and thrust her hands on her hips. “Will this do?”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to stand out. I want to blend into a crowd like you, India.”

  “India doesn’t blend in,” Matt said. “She’s far too remarkable.”

  I suspected he was referring to my height, which was a little more than most women, but it was sweet of him to say so, and I smiled. He didn’t notice. He was too busy trying not to laugh at Willie as she checked her hair in the mirror.

  “You look fine,” I told her. “You will blend into a crowd nicely.”

  “A
funeral crowd,” Duke muttered.

  Cyclops snickered, setting Duke off again. His eyes filled with tears of laughter.

  Willie spun around and glared at Cyclops. “Shut your hole. I’m doing this for you.”

  Cyclops’s smile vanished. “Me? I never asked you to wear a dress. I like you better in man’s clothes. You’re less irritable in buckskins.”

  “I’m doing this so I can follow Charity without being noticed. I want to see where she goes, who she talks to. I reckon I’ll ask her coachman if he took her to the Masons recently, and maybe talk to the maids and see if anyone accompanied her.”

  Cyclops groaned. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Matt said. “What if it wasn’t Charity?”

  “Then I’ll find out for sure. If it ain’t her then we can look for the culprit elsewhere.” She picked up her skirts and marched out of the room.

  “Have a lovely time,” Aunt Letitia called out to her. Once Willie was gone, she picked up her sewing basket. “Isn’t it wonderful that she’s finally becoming more feminine? Don’t let her excuse fool any of you. I think she’s wearing a dress because she wants to, not for some scheme involving Charity.”

  We filled Duke and Aunt Letitia in on Cyclops’s problem then we went our different ways for the remainder of the afternoon. Matt had business matters to attend to in his study while Cyclops returned to Charity and Ronnie’s shop. Duke went out again and I spent the rest of the day in Aunt Letitia’s company.

  Willie didn’t return home that night. That wasn’t too alarming. She often stayed out all night, particularly lately. Even when Lord Farnsworth showed up at breakfast, we still didn’t worry. He claimed he hadn’t seen her, and we assumed she was still following Charity or perhaps had decided to rendezvous with one of her old lovers.

  It wasn’t until a message arrived via the late morning post that we knew something was very wrong. Matt read it and swore then he handed it to me and I gasped as I read.

  According to the note, Willie had been kidnapped and she would be killed unless I agreed to use my extension magic.

  Chapter 4

  I pointed to the letter in Detective Inspector Brockwell’s hand. “It states that Willie will die if I don’t send word to Mr. Bunn’s workshop by midnight tonight that I agree to infuse his magic with an extension spell.”