The Toymaker's Curse (Glass and Steele Book 11) Page 7

“I ain’t jealous. I just…don’t like it.”

  Matt’s gaze connected with mine then he rolled his eyes.

  “Do you have feelings for Duke?” I pressed.

  She sighed. “It ain’t that. It’s like I said the other day. Cyclops is settling down and Farnsworth probably will too. I gave up on Matt long ago, but I always thought I’d have Duke to keep me company. The widow is just an occasional distraction, but maybe Charbonneau’s maid could be more.”

  Matt picked up his coffee cup. “You’re being selfish. You have to let Duke be with whomever he wants.”

  “It’s too soon to tell if the maid will prove to be more than an occasional distraction,” I said. “Besides, you’ve still got Brockwell for company.”

  “And I like my time with him, but he doesn’t go out gambling and drinking with me. I need a friend. I thought that would always be Duke.”

  “Everyone grows up at some point,” Matt said.

  “Not me.”

  “Amen to that,” he muttered into his cup.

  Duke strolled in at that moment, looking tired but pleased with himself. He bade us good morning and headed directly to the sideboard and the dishes laid out there. He filled a plate, poured himself a coffee, and joined us at the table. He ate two rashers of bacon before he finally looked up, fork paused halfway to his mouth.

  “Why are you all staring at me?”

  “We’re keen to hear how it went with Jane,” I said.

  He shoveled the third rasher of bacon into his mouth and chewed. Willie huffed her frustration at the delay. She drained her coffee cup then got up to pour another from the pot.

  “Jane was careful,” Duke finally told us. “She didn’t give much away. I had to resort to questioning the maid who works at the neighboring house. They’ve become friends.”

  “I hope you were discreet,” Matt said.

  “Her mistress was out so she had the evening off. I bought her a drink at the Hound and Thistle. She told me Jane’s infatuated with Charbonneau.”

  “Oh dear,” I said on a sigh. “The poor girl. Fabian isn’t likely to be serious about her.”

  “That’s what Betty reckons.”

  “Betty, eh?” Willie snorted. “You’re on first name basis already?”

  Duke gave her a smug smile. “Wouldn’t be right to call her Miss after spending the night with her.”

  Willie screwed up her nose.

  “Did you sneak into her employer’s house?” I asked, shocked.

  “She doesn’t live at her mistress’s house. She lives in Soho with her sister and her sister’s baby.” He sliced the top off his boiled egg. “Betty left early to return to work and I stayed a little longer to help with the baby while the sister did some chores.”

  Willie watched as he spooned egg into his mouth. “This is your second breakfast, ain’t it?”

  He smiled around his mouthful of egg.

  “You’re going to get fat.”

  He rubbed his stomach. “Fat but happy.”

  She made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat.

  “Can we talk about the investigation for a moment?” Matt said with a pointed glare for Willie. He turned back to Duke. “So Betty thinks Jane was in Charbonneau’s bedchamber on the night of the theft.”

  Duke nodded. “According to Betty, Jane spends most nights with him. I reckon she told you the truth about the coughs when you questioned her.”

  Matt drummed his fingers on the table in thought. “It seems so.” He stopped drumming. “Good work, Duke. Well done.”

  “You’re praising him for that?” Willie cried. “He hardly did a thing! I could have got that much out of the maid.”

  Duke set his cup down with a thunk on the table. “Don’t you go near her.”

  Willie sat back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Why not?”

  “Because I found her first and you’re supposed to be my friend.”

  She lowered her arms with a sigh. “Fine. But only because you’re so worried she’d like me more, which we all know she would.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You need a hobby.”

  “I got hobbies. It’s just that no one will join me in them.”

  “Come to my office after breakfast,” Matt said to her. “I’ve got something for you to do.”

  While they discussed his plans for her, I sat silently sipping my tea, thinking about Fabian and Jane. While I didn’t expect him to live like a monk, I was still a little surprised that he’d take his maid to bed.

  I could hear Willie’s voice in my head, telling me I was being a prude, that Jane knew what she was doing just much as Fabian did. It wasn’t my business anyway and I had no right to even dwell on it. Fabian would probably be embarrassed if he knew that I knew.

  I spent the morning with Aunt Letitia while Matt and Willie questioned Fabian’s neighbors. They returned after luncheon to report that nobody had heard anything on the night of the robbery, including coughs, nor had they seen anyone behaving suspiciously in the area.

  We were at a loss as to how to proceed. We had no witnesses, no evidence left behind by the thief, and the only suspect had an alibi.

  No, not the only suspect. Mr. Trentham had been Fabian’s suspect, but ours was Lord Coyle. If anyone coveted that spell, it was him. If anyone had the means to hire a skillful thief, it was Coyle. He must be top of our list.

  But how to prove that he was behind the theft?

  It was looking rather hopeless. Matt considered questioning Coyle’s coachman for locations where he’d taken his master lately, but I dismissed the idea. Coyle probably paid his servants handsomely for their loyalty. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d also threatened them if they ever spoke against him. Short of breaking into Coyle’s house and searching it, I had no other ideas.

  Matt, however, had one more. “We’ll ask Brockwell for the names of the city’s most skillful thieves. If Coyle hired one to break into Charbonneau’s house, he would hire the best.”

  It seemed like a good idea, and we resolved to visit the detective inspector at Scotland Yard. Unfortunately our plan was thwarted by unexpected visitors.

  “Are you home for Lord and Lady Coyle?” Bristow asked after answering the front door.

  Matt and I exchanged glances. “Speak of the devil,” Matt said, giving Bristow a nod to see our guests through to the drawing room.

  “Two devils,” I added.

  “Indeed,” Aunt Letitia said, rising from the sofa. “Please give them my apologies. I have a headache and need to lie down.”

  Willie rose too. “I ain’t got a headache, but I’m leaving. No need to give anyone my apologies on account of I ain’t sorry to miss them. Want me to go speak to Jasper, Matt?”

  “Invite him to dine with us tonight.”

  Duke followed Willie while Matt and I headed to the drawing room. I steeled myself for what I expected to be another trying meeting with the Coyles.

  “I wonder what they want?” I asked Matt before we reached the drawing room.

  “I don’t know but I doubt it’s merely a social call.”

  We greeted them curtly and received the same stiff manner in response. There was no point pretending civility anymore. We’d gone beyond polite niceties.

  “To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” Matt asked as he sat.

  Hope smiled at him as I sat beside her on the sofa. “I wanted to pay a call on my dearest cousin.” By the way she gazed upon Matt, clearly she wasn’t including me.

  Lord Coyle’s heavy lids lowered to half-mast as he regarded his wife. He’d detected the slight too. What he thought of it, however, was not obvious.

  “I doubt this is purely a social call,” Matt said to her.

  “It is for me. I like seeing you, very much.”

  Was she flirting with him? In front of both her husband and me? Hope had never been shy about her attraction to Matt, and while I doubted those feelings had been eliminated, I thought marriage would have made her set them aside. I
t would seem not.

  Matt was rarely unchivalrous where women were concerned, but he completely ignored Hope and focused his full attention on Lord Coyle. Hope’s chin slowly sank and she stared down at her clasped hands in her lap. An outside observer would think Matt’s slight had wounded her, but I suspected it was all part of her act.

  Lord Coyle shifted his weight in the chair. “How is your investigation into the spell theft proceeding?”

  Matt arched a brow. “You can’t possibly expect us to answer that considering you’re a suspect.”

  “Come now, Glass. I’m not a common thief. You know that.”

  “This is not a common theft.”

  Lord Coyle stroked his long white moustache. “Mind if I smoke?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you’d given up,” I said.

  Lord Coyle grunted. “I came to realize what a foolish mistake I’d made. Let it be a lesson to you younger ones. Don’t give up a habit you enjoy, particularly one you’ve had for many years. The change is…unpleasant.”

  I tried to watch for Hope’s reaction out of the corner of my eye, but her head was still bowed. The knuckles of her clasped hands turned white, however. She knew every word in her husband’s warning was directed at her and was about his bachelorhood, not his smoking.

  The exchange left me feeling uncomfortable. I shouldn’t feel sorry for Hope. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her. She’d married the earl for his money and power, and her greed had given her what she deserved. Yet a small part of me felt sympathy. I knew all too well from my past with Eddie Hardacre how a woman’s position in this man’s world was a precarious one. We were at the mercy of our fathers, brothers, employers and husbands, and if none championed you, life could be difficult. Indeed, if the man who was supposed to champion you worked against you instead, life could be a living nightmare. If Matt had not crossed my path when he did, everything would have turned out so differently for me.

  “What clues do you have?” Lord Coyle asked.

  “We’re not discussing the theft,” Matt said, voice raised. “If that’s all you came for, you may leave.”

  Lord Coyle stroked his moustache again. “We came for something else, as it happens.”

  Hope raised her head to look at her husband. Whatever he was about to say, she’d not been informed of it.

  Coyle turned to me. “You might be interested to know Chronos is selling his services to other magicians.”

  I frowned. “What services?”

  “He’ll use the time spell to extend the magic of others for a considerable sum.”

  Damnation. My grandfather was doing precisely what I refused to do. I’d been afraid every magician would come pounding on my door, demanding I extend their magic so that it didn’t fade too quickly. I’d refused for fear it would give magicians an even bigger advantage over the artless, therefore deepen divisions further.

  Chronos seemed to have no such dilemma. He could perform the spell as well as I could, being a horology magician, and yet I hadn’t expected him to do it. I thought he possessed enough common sense to see the dangers. He was a bigger fool than I thought, and more selfish.

  “How do you know?” Matt asked Coyle.

  Coyle smiled. “Come now, Glass, you can’t expect me to reveal my sources when you won’t give me information about your investigation. Tell Chronos to desist, Mrs. Glass. He might listen to you.” His eyes turned hard. “If not, I’m sure he’ll listen to me.”

  I bristled. “Why? What will you threaten him with?”

  Lord Coyle merely pushed himself to his feet with a grunt of exertion.

  “Why do you want him to stop?” I asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? He’s ruining the balance of magic. There’s an order in the magical collector’s world, a hierarchy. Rare magical objects have a higher value, naturally, and strong magic holds its value longer than weaker. But what happens when the extension spell is added to another’s magic? Chaos. Weak magic becomes strong. Objects with Chronos’s spell become rare when previously they might have had low value. I can’t allow it.”

  Matt scoffed. “You’re worried about your collection losing its value.”

  Lord Coyle picked up his walking stick from where it was leaning against the mantelpiece. “Balance is important. We can’t have chaos. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

  Hope gave him a tight smile. “You are correct, of course. But who is to say what the balance is and what is chaos? Does not chaos become the new balance, in time?”

  Lord Coyle passed her on his way to the door. “You are in a defiant frame of mind today, my dear. I do hope it changes by dinnertime.”

  The muscles in Hope’s face twitched, as if she were trying to suppress a physical reaction. Once Lord Coyle was gone from sight, she seemed to relax a little. She even managed a smile for Matt as they both stood. “I do hope your dislike of my husband doesn’t extend to me, Cousin.”

  “I’m afraid we won’t be seeing much of one another,” he said.

  She suddenly grasped his hand “Please, Matt. You’re my cousin, my father’s heir. Can we not be friends too?”

  “I doubt it.”

  She blinked rapidly at him and stepped away. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry to hear that. Very sorry indeed.” She gave him a rallying smile. “At least we will always be cousins, and one day you will be the head of the Glass family, which includes me.”

  “You’re a Coyle now.”

  She glanced at the door. “In name only.” She picked up her skirts and raced after her husband.

  Matt joined me on the sofa, shaking his head. “I always feel like a strong drink after an encounter with one of them. An encounter with both makes me want the entire bottle.”

  “Did you find Hope’s speech odd?” I asked, frowning at the door through which she’d left.

  “Very. Do you think she’s going mad?”

  “It’s possible. Marriage to Coyle would cause even a strong-willed woman to lose her mind.”

  “But she wanted to marry him, even knowing what he’s like.” He threw his hands in the air and let them fall to his sides. “I thought I understood women well, but she’s a mystery to me. I can’t decide if I ought to protect her from Coyle or wish her luck.”

  I tugged on the bell pull and when Bristow arrived, I asked him to bring tea as well as pen, ink and a sheet of stationery.

  “Who are you writing to?” Matt asked.

  “Chronos. I’m inviting him to dine with us tonight. When he’s comfortably full of Mrs. Potter’s delicious food, I’ll demand he cease using the extension spell.”

  “And if he won’t?”

  “I’ll tell him Coyle has him in his sights. That ought to be enough to frighten him into submission.”

  Dinner ended up being a grander affair than we’d anticipated. In addition to Chronos and Brockwell, Catherine and Lord Farnsworth joined us too. Farnsworth had come to visit in the late afternoon and simply never left, while Cyclops had invited Catherine when he’d called in to see her at the shop after his classes finished for the day.

  “I told my mother that you’d invited me, India,” she said before we entered the dining room. “She wouldn’t have let me come if I’d told the truth.”

  “Perhaps you should be honest with her,” I said.

  “Then Nate and I will never get to see one another.” She lifted her gaze to Cyclops’s and smiled. He smiled back. “Don’t worry about us, India. My mother will come around. You’ll see.”

  Her confidence gave me hope. If she could be positive, so could I. “Are you going to invite Cyclops to tea until she comes to realize he has a good heart?”

  “That’ll take too long, considering he can only come to tea on Sundays now that he’s joined the police. Besides, she can easily make her excuses then we’d have to cancel altogether.”

  “So what do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The dinner gong sounded and we filed into the dining room, taking o
ur seats as directed by Aunt Letitia. I’d prefer it if we sat next to whomever we wished, but she was a stickler for the correct order, although it was difficult with so many men compared to women, and with Willie being, well, Willie.

  We hadn’t all been together since Christmas, and as I gazed down the length of the table, I realized how much I enjoyed having everyone’s company. We were a family. A mismatched, strange kind of family, but one bound together as much as the regular kind. The only one missing was Fabian and I wished I’d thought to invite him.

  The food arrived and the many voices in conversation began to rise in volume as each tried to be heard over the other. At one point my gaze connected with Matt’s over the platters and tureens. He lifted his glass in salute and I smiled back.

  “You know, you ought to consider it, Brockwell,” Lord Farnsworth said in his clear, refined tones that somehow cut through the noise.

  The detective inspector, seated two places down from his lordship, hadn’t been listening. “Sorry, my lord, I missed what you were saying. What should I consider?”

  “Marriage.”

  All the other conversations stopped.

  Brockwell’s face turned scarlet. “I, er…” He studied his plate. Opposite him, Willie studied hers.

  “I’m considering it, you know,” Lord Farnsworth went on, oblivious to the awkward silence. “I’ve found myself a nice filly from good stock. She appears to be in excellent health and has a good temperament. I think she’ll do well.”

  “You realize she’s a woman, not a horse,” Matt said.

  “Even so, I’m prepared to take her on.” Lord Farnsworth chuckled. “What say you, Steele? You’ve got more experience than anyone here. Got any advice for a fellow considering the institution?”

  Chronos dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Institution is an appropriate word in the instance of marriage.” He hiccoughed at that very moment, giving me the opportunity to take over.

  “My grandfather’s advice on marriage shouldn’t be heeded. He wasn’t the best husband.”

  Chronos surprised me by nodding along. To be fair, he’d never claimed to be a good husband. He’d simply accused my grandmother of being an equally poor spouse.