Chapter 2

Bristow entered but didn't have a chance to inform us that Catherine Mason had arrived before she barreled past him. She ran to Cyclops and threw her arms around him.

"Thank goodness you're all right." She cupped his face and inspected him thoroughly. "We were closing the shop for the day when we heard about the riot in your district. I came here directly. I was so worried." Satisfied that he was unharmed, she embraced him again.

His lips twitched as he tried to contain his smile. "I'm fine. You didn't have to come here. You could have sent a message."

She drew back and tilted her head to the side to regard him critically. "And you could have sent back a reply that said you were fine when you weren't, so that I wouldn't worry. I prefer to see you in person and judge for myself."

"What will your parents think when your brother arrives home without you? Is he going to tell them India invited you to dine here?" He glanced over her head at me.

"Of course you can stay for dinner, Catherine, and I will tell your parents that if they ask."

She shook her head. "I told Ronnie to tell them the truth. That I came here to see if you were all right, Nate. But I did say that I would stay to dine if invited."

"Then I'll tell Bristow to set another place at the table."

The butler suddenly appeared at the door again, but not because he heard his name or sensed that I wished to speak to him. He announced the arrival of another uninvited, but no less welcome, guest.

"Detective Inspector Brockwell has arrived. Shall I set another two places for dinner, madam?"

"Thank you, Bristow."

Willie greeted Brockwell with almost as much enthusiasm as Catherine had greeted Cyclops. He seemed surprised by her public display of affection, but not unhappy. He, too, warred with a smile.

"Well, this is nice. Is there a particular reason I'm being greeted with an embrace?"

"Can't a woman hug her man?" Willie asked.

"It's not like you. Not in front of the others."

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Cyclops just told us about the riot and I got worried about you."

"I didn't attend the scene. The uniformed men had it under control."

She patted his chest. "Good." She led him by the hand to the sofa then sat beside him.

We all watched her with curious expressions, including Brockwell, but she failed to notice.

"Cyclops was just telling us about the riot," Matt said.

"News reached us at the Yard some time ago." Brockwell turned to Cyclops. "Did you make any arrests?"

"Five," Cyclops said.

"Including Abercrombie?" Matt asked.

Cyclops shook his head. "He didn't commit any of the violence himself."

I couldn't imagine the aloof and somewhat delicate man throwing a brick through a window, but I also had trouble envisaging him involving himself with such a violent group, yet Cyclops said he led them. "Couldn't he be arrested for inciting violence?"

Cyclops shook his head. "He claims he wanted the protest to be peaceful. In fact, he called for calm, but it fell on deaf ears. I witnessed his attempts myself."

"He should still be arrested for organizing it," Matt said.

"A detective from my district will make inquiries. If he can prove Abercrombie did organize it, he'll be arrested."

Willie nudged Brockwell with her elbow. "You should be heading up the investigation. It involves magic."

"I think we're past the point of assigning crimes related to magic to me," Brockwell said. "This is just the beginning."

Matt agreed. "It's no longer a secret, best kept to a small group at the Yard."

"Dashed ugly business," Farnsworth muttered. "Why can't everyone just get along?"

"Because people's livelihoods are at stake," I said.

"Money is the root of evil."

Willie snorted. "Says the man who owns two houses, acres of land, and dozens of racing horses and magical objects."

Farnsworth sniffed. "Yes. Well. I'm a generous employer, too. Everybody likes working for me."

Willie and Duke rolled their eyes.

Catherine left Cyclops's side to come and sit with me. She handed me a piece of paper. "Seeing as it's just us, I'll take the opportunity to give you this now rather than wait until your aunt returns."

With Aunt Letitia getting dressed for dinner and only our friends present, we all felt comfortable talking freely. While Lord Farnsworth was a new friend, we trusted him after he'd helped Matt become acquainted with the home secretary. He knew all about Sir Charles Whittaker's position as a spy, our suspicions about Lord Coyle, and the attempts on Matt's life. While his opinion was usually an unconventional one, his help as a nobleman was invaluable. Matt hadn't made many powerful connections among the nobility yet, but he was starting to, thanks to Lord Farnsworth.

That was why Catherine felt comfortable giving me the piece of paper with names on it for my list of magicians in front of him. I'd begun the list a mere week ago and asked my friends to help contribute to it where possible. While it was still a short list, I hoped to expand it so that it became a definitive catalogue. The trouble we'd experienced with Mrs. Trentham the toymaker magician and Amelia Moreton the fireworks magician proved that we needed to know who wielded magic for those times when it was used as a weapon.

But I would not share the list with the authorities unless and until it became necessary. It would be kept here, locked away in a secret place, with only myself, Matt, Cyclops, Willie and Duke knowing where to find it.

I unfolded the paper and scanned the three names. I recognized one. "Are these all woolen magicians?"

Catherine nodded. "I heard the woolen guild revoked the membership of suspected magicians, effective immediately. I asked a few questions of an acquaintance and discovered these men were identified by their superior workmanship and rumor."

Willie scoffed. "So a person is deemed guilty based on rumor now?"

"This isn't the work of the police," Brockwell reminded her.

She huffed and folded her arms. "It should be a crime to take a person's livelihood away from them without a trial."

"Or a thorough investigation or process of appeal," Cyclops added.

I handed the paper to Matt. "My Pyke's name is on there."

Mr. Pyke was a rug maker who used his woolen magic to make his carpets stronger and last longer. He'd given Fabian and me a spell which I'd changed to include the relevant words for the moving spell. The subsequent new spell had made Fabian's woolen rug fly.

The wool magic didn't work for long, however, so Mr. Pyke rarely used it. Despite that, he'd been correctly identified by his guild as a magician, and now he couldn't trade at all. He'd have to close his shop. It would be utterly devastating for him.

"The woolen guild has gone too far," Lord Farnsworth declared. "They ought to be punished for such a travesty."

"How?" Duke asked.

Lord Farnsworth had no answer.

"There may be public backlash," Cyclops said. "The locals were none too pleased with the riot in High Street today. They'll blame the organizers."

Willie smacked her fist on her knee. "Good. Abercrombie should be made to suffer the consequences. Maybe I'll spread the word myself that he was involved."

"Willie," I warned. "Don't cause trouble."

"He started it."

Bristow sounded the dinner gong at seven-thirty and we set aside grim conversations for more agreeable ones. It was such a companionable evening that I forgot all about the troubles beyond our doorstep, including the attempt on Matt's life. I exchanged glances and smiles with him, seated at the other end of the table. He seemed happy, too. Perhaps the forced confinement wasn't so difficult for him after all.

"I'm jealous." Lord Farnsworth's quiet declaration was intended only for my ears, and not Aunt Letitia, sitting on his other side.

I followed his gaze to Willie and Brockwell, seated next to one another. They looked comfortable, even going so far as to complete one another's sentences. Or, rather, Willie completed Brockwell's when he took too long to finish, which was something of a peculiarity of his.

"I thought you and Willie decided not to pursue anything further," I said.

"I'm not jealous of the inspector, you understand. I'm jealous of their relationship."

I used to think Willie and Duke would make a good couple, but I now knew how wrong that pairing would be. While they were firm friends, they'd make terrible lovers. They seemed to bring out the childishness in each other, and their constant bickering would wear thin. They reminded me of siblings, often arguing yet always there for one another if necessary. Willie and Brockwell were an odd couple on the surface, yet they were actually better suited.

"I want what they have," Lord Farnsworth said in an earnest tone I'd never heard him use before. "

"Companionship?"

"Yes, but something else too."

"Love?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Not necessarily love, no."

Now I was intrigued. "Then what, aside from companionship, do you want in a relationship?"

"The freedom to do as I please."

"Oh. I'm afraid not all relationships are as free as theirs."

"That's why I referenced them only, and not you and Glass, or Cyclops and Miss Mason. I want freedom to…" He waggled his fingers in the air. "To be myself."

I suspected he meant the freedom to be with other women, but I didn't say so. Some things were better left unsaid between friends. "I'm sure you'll find the right girl one day, Davide. She's out there waiting for you to sweep her off her feet."

He picked up his glass and saluted me with it. "And until I find her, I'm going to flirt with Charity Glass."

I sighed.

I wasn't sure whether I ought to be worried for Charity's reputation or not, but I soon forgot about her and Lord Farnsworth altogether as we moved into the drawing room. We played cards until eleven, when Aunt Letitia retired.

Lord Farnsworth decided it was time to go too. "There's a boxing match in the basement of the George Inn starting at midnight. Anyone want to come? It promises to be a jolly good bout with that American fellow, Sullivan, up against a local contender."

"I'll go," Duke said, throwing in his cards. "Got to support my fellow countryman. Come on, Willie, Brockwell. I won't bother asking you, Cyclops, I know you won't."

"I have to work tomorrow," Cyclops pointed out.

"As do I," Brockwell said. "Besides, if it's in a basement at midnight, I doubt it's legal."

Lord Farnsworth rocked back on his heels and tried to look innocent.

Willie looked disappointed. "Come on, Jasper, you never go out with me."

"Because I don't like gambling or pugilism." He kissed her cheek. "But you enjoy yourself."

Willie nodded, but I could tell she was disappointed.

"May we offer you a ride home, Miss Mason?" Lord Farnsworth asked.

We escorted them to the door where they put on coats and hats to wrap themselves up against the cold February night. I took the opportunity to speak quietly to Catherine away from Cyclops.

"How are things at home?" I asked. "Particularly in regard to your parents accepting Cyclops?"

"It's fine."

I waited but she offered no more. "You mentioned you had a plan that would change your parents' opinions of him. Has that failed?"

She leaned closer. "I haven't set it in motion yet. But I will soon."

"Can you tell me what it is?"

"No."

"Not even a hint?"

She grinned. "It's more fun if you don't know."

"Not for me."

She kissed my cheek. "Thank you for the lovely evening. I always feel so at home here, more than I do in my parents' house."

I hugged her. "Let me know how your plan goes."

"I won't have to tell you. You'll just know."

We waved them off from the entrance hall then Matt closed the door. Cyclops bade us goodnight and disappeared upstairs. Bristow locked up before he too said goodnight.

Matt and I headed up the stairs slowly, hand in hand. "What were you and Farnsworth talking about at dinner?" he asked when we reached the landing. "You had such a strange look on your face."

"He was telling me how much he was looking forward to flirting with Charity."

"That explains why you looked like you'd heard a rude joke. You seemed shocked and yet on the verge of laughter too."

"Should we worry about her? It's not right that he wants to flirt with her. It could ruin her reputation."

"I'm not worried. He's the one who should be careful. He doesn't know what he's dealing with." He suddenly scooped me up in his arms and continued up the stairs. "Enough about other people's relationships. Let's concentrate on ours for the next little while."

I pouted. "Little while?"

"That sounds like a challenge and you know I can't resist one."

He took the rest of the stairs two at a time with me in his arms; he wasn't even puffed when we reached our bedroom door.

* * *

Breakfast was a quiet affair.Cyclops left for work early, Willie had spent the night goodness knows where and not come home yet, and Duke was still asleep. Aunt Letitia joined Matt and me in the dining room, and we were soon joined by my grandfather.

Chronos often arrived unannounced these days, and usually at meal times, although rarely this early. He looked as though he hadn't slept.

"Are you unwell?" I asked as he took a seat opposite me with a plate of toast and sausages. "There are dark circles under your eyes and your hair is wilder than usual."

"What little there is of it," Aunt Letitia muttered without looking up from the open magazine beside her plate.

Chronos smoothed a hand over his head but the flimsy white strands refused to be tamed and stuck straight up again. "I'm not sleeping well lately."

"Something troubling you?" Matt asked.

"You mean aside from the riots and magicians being thrown out of their guilds?"

"So you heard about that," I said with a warning tilt of my head in Aunt Letitia's direction. She didn't appear to be listening, however, and continued to read her magazine, teacup in hand.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

"What can we do?"

He waved his fork in the air. "Something! Come on, Glass, you're an important fellow, these days. Stand up for your wife's rights."

"I can stand up for myself, thank you. And Matt is doing everything he can, but he can't work miracles. No one can make these problems go away overnight."

He grunted and cut into the sausage.

Matt sat back, his own breakfast finished. "I seem to recall you wanting magic to be exposed to the world."

"Not like this. It should have been done in a much grander fashion, in a way that would showcase magic in all its splendor." He paused in thought. "Something like the Great Exhibition of fifty-one."

I barked a laugh. "Nothing too modest, then."

"Something as magnificent and important as magic deserves pomp and ceremony. We just need a royal champion to get behind it, as Prince Albert did for the Great Exhibition. Do you know anyone from royalty, Glass?"

Matt regarded him with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow. "We don't move in the same circles."

Chronos didn't leave after breakfast. He'd brought a clock with him that he was having trouble fixing and asked me to take a look at it. We worked in the library and I soon had all the watch parts spread out on the table. Chronos gave no assistance, and instead he sat with a book by the fire, his hand spread over his belly. He looked a little pale.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Just a little nausea. It happens after eating."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"I have. He diagnosed indigestion. I take a tonic but I left it at home."

"Do you want me to send the footman to retrieve it?"

He shook his head. "Don't bother. It doesn't work."

I picked up my tweezers, but my mind wasn't completely on the task. Chronos was in his seventies and was going to get ill from time to time, but he'd always seemed strong and healthy. He'd not even experienced a head cold this winter. I'd never considered that one day he'd have an illness he couldn't recover from.

That thought shook me. Fortunately the clock wasn't a complicated piece, and I put it back together without really thinking about it. "It seems to be working now."

"Well done, India," he said without looking up from the book.

"You could have fixed it yourself."

"Could I?"

I pulled the book from his hands to force him to look at me. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. May I have my book back, please?"

I hid it behind my back. "Not until you tell me why you're pretending to need my help when you don't."

He picked at the seam on the leather chair arm and didn't meet my gaze. "I wanted to spend time with you. I miss your company."

"Oh."

Chronos and I weren't particularly close. Considering I thought he was dead up until last year, it was perhaps understandable. We were also very different people, with opposing views about magic's place in the world. He'd been upset with me for abandoning the spell-making sessions with Fabian.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" I asked.

He glanced at the window. "It's raining."

I sat on the other armchair, angled toward the fire. "Then we'll stay warm in here and talk."

"Or we could just read quietly." He held out his hand and I gave him the book. He opened it and continued reading.

It would seem he didn't particularly want my company. Anyone would have done just as well. I suspected it was loneliness that really ailed my grandfather.

I didn't have an opportunity to ask him if that were true. Bristow entered and announced the arrival of Oscar Barratt.

I stood to greet him and asked Bristow to inform Matt who was upstairs in his study. "Oscar, come in and sit by the fire. You look half-drowned."

"Just a little damp." He joined me at the fireplace, stretching out his fingers towards the coals. "How do you do, Mr. Steele?"

"Morning, Barratt," Chronos said, setting aside the book. His demeanor instantly improved upon seeing Oscar. Here was a man who thought like him, who wanted to see magic brought into the open and celebrated. "You must be very pleased with the reception of your book. Excellent title by the way: The Book of Magic."

Oscar ran his hand through his dark brown hair, the ends of which were damp. He mustn't have used an umbrella and only the hair covered by his hat had stayed dry. "Thank you. I am happy with how it turned out. Sales are brisk and early reviews are mostly favorable. What more can an author ask for?"

Despite his words, there was an undercurrent of sadness to his tone, although I wasn't sure Chronos detected it. He smiled and congratulated Oscar on his success.

Oscar eased into the armchair and stretched out his legs toward the fire. "It's not all roses. There's a lot of negativity aimed at me, too. I've received threats."

"What sort of threats?" I asked.

"The kind that wish me harm."

Matt entered, hearing Oscar's comment. "How did they find out where you live?"

"The threats were sent to The Weekly Gazette, who passed them on to me. Although I no longer work there, my biography mentions I used to be one of their staff writers."

"How horrid for you," I said. "Although you must admit that a negative reception was not unexpected."

I didn't dare look at Matt but I could feel his temper simmering beneath the surface as he came to stand beside me. He'd been against the book from the start.

"The threats don't particularly worry me," Oscar said. "My home address isn't public knowledge." He offered a smile but it was unconvincing. Something certainly bothered him. If it wasn't the threats, then what?

"You heard about the riot yesterday?" Matt asked.

"I did. Nasty business. I hope they arrested the offenders."

"That riot was a direct result of your book and the added exposure it has given magicians."

Oscar put up his hands. "Come, now, Glass, be reasonable. I didn't force anyone to smash windows. I'm not forcing anyone to hate magicians. You can't blame me for that any more than you blame one of those poor victims for being stabbed by the Ripper."

Matt's entire body tensed. He blinked hard at Oscar and, for once, was rendered speechless.

"Steady on," Chronos said with a frown. "That's a little over the top."

Oscar blew out a deep breath. "You're right. Sorry. I know you're just trying to protect India and this business is worrying for you. Don't mind me. I'm a little out of sorts, these days." He cleared his throat. "Louisa and I have ended our engagement."

That explained the glumness. "I am sorry." I did mean it, even though I'd had my doubts about them from the start. Louisa wanted to marry a magician so that she could hopefully have magician children. Her feelings had never been engaged. I had suspected Oscar's might have been in the beginning, but I also suspected Louisa's money played a significant part in keeping them together, particularly after he learned she had asked Fabian to marry her first. Oscar needed that money to fund the printing of his book.

"I ended it, although I'll let everyone think she did. It's the honorable thing to do." He shifted his weight in the chair. "The dismissal was the last straw. I could have put up with her having feelings for another man. I never loved her, you see, so I didn't expect love in return. But I was devoted to her. I would never betray my wife, never say a bad word against her. Unfortunately she proved she doesn't have the same devotion to me."

"What dismissal?" Chronos asked.

"She had me fired from The Weekly Gazette so that I'd have more time to finish the book."

Chronos's eyes widened. "And I thought my wife was out to thwart me."

I gave him a quelling look.

"At least you learned Louisa's true nature before you married," Matt said, finally taking a seat by the table. "Better now than later."

Oscar sighed. "Better never at all."

"How did Louisa take the news?" I asked.

"She accepted it very well." His tone was bitter. "Very well indeed. No doubt she'll make another play for Charbonneau."

"I don't think he'd accept her."

"So what will you do now?" Matt asked.

"I'll see if the Gazette will take me back. I have to do something, and I enjoyed working there. If they won't, perhaps I'll go on a speaking tour around the country. Not all of the messages that came to me via the Gazette's office were threats. One asked me to speak at a women's institute about magic."

"What have some of the other positive letters said?" I asked.

"I've received quite a number from magicians who've reached out simply to speak to another like-minded individual. It's surprising to think they've never mentioned their magic to anyone, not even to their spouse in some instances. They've lived in fear for so long."

"Your book won't change that," Matt pointed out, somewhat gruffly. "The riots only prove they were right to stay hidden."

"You know my view on that, Glass. It will be hard in the short term as the artless must concede business to those more skilled than themselves, but in the long term, things will settle down. There will be changes, of course. Magicians will come out on top. The market will see to it."

Matt shook his head in disgust, and I thought he was about to protest, but it was Chronos who snorted in derision.

"Acceptance by the artless won't happen in my lifetime, Barratt."

"But perhaps it will in India's."

I thought Oscar a little insensitive for saying so to my grandfather, but Chronos didn't seem to take it that way. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Do you still have the letters those magicians sent to you?" Matt asked.

"I do."

"Can we take a look at them?"

I held my breath. We'd not told Oscar about our list of magicians, nor Chronos, and I didn't think informing them was a good idea. I didn't quite trust either with such valuable information, although I couldn't imagine what they'd do with the names.

"Why?" Oscar asked.

"India might like to write to them and offer some supporting words. As the most powerful magician in the city, some might know of her and look up to her."

I managed not to roll my eyes at him and continued to smile at Oscar.

Oscar agreed it was a good idea. "I'll collect them now, shall I?"

"There's no hurry," I told him.

He pushed himself to his feet. "I might as well. It's not like I have anything better to do."

I invited him to return with the letters at lunchtime and to eat with us. Willie and Duke were awake by then, and Aunt Letitia was in a good mood, having decided on an outfit to wear to Lady Rycroft's soiree that evening.

At the mention of the evening's entertainment, Matt turned to me. "I feel a sore throat coming on." He coughed for good measure.

Considering the danger posed by him leaving the house, I was happy to go along with the ruse. "I'll pass on your regrets."

Aunt Letitia patted his hand. "Do get an early night, dear boy. You'll be missed."

"Thank you, Aunt."

"Only because it means there'll be one less person I can rely on for good conversation. India and Davide being the others, of course."

Duke barked a laugh as he plucked a sandwich off the silver tray balanced on the tips of the footman's fingers. "Farnsworth? Good conversation? Ha!"

As usual, Willie chose the moment she shoved a sandwich into her mouth to speak. "At least you never know what he'll say. Keeps you on your toes."

Oscar gave me the letters after lunch then departed at the same time as Chronos. I got the feeling both would have stayed longer if I hadn't told them Matt and I had to go out. Oscar seemed to want company just as much Chronos.

I spent the next little while seated at Matt's desk, reading the letters and transcribing the names, addresses and a note about each writer's magical craft to our list. He brought me a cup of tea twenty minutes later.

"How many more?" he asked.

"Four. These will double our list." I picked up the teacup but didn't sip. I regarded him over the rim. "I think I should inform Sir Charles today. It's time the government knew of its existence."

Matt sat slowly, rubbing his jawline. "Very well. We'll go when you finish those."

"You're not coming with me, Matt."

"I am."

"I can handle Sir Charles without you. I've done it before."

"It's nothing to do with how wily Sir Charles can be, and everything to do with—" He shut his mouth.

"With what?"

He shrugged as he stared down at the desk.

"With what, Matt?"

He sighed. "With me wanting to get out of this damned house!"

I stood and rounded the desk then sat on his lap. I looped my arms around his neck. "I know you're bored, but you need to stay indoors until the shooter is caught."

He settled his hands on my hips. "And how will we catch him? The police investigation led nowhere. We have no clues. We need to draw him out and that won't happen if I stay in here, hiding away."

He was right, but I wasn't going to admit it. He'd leap at the opportunity to leave the house, and I wasn't ready for him to risk his life again. Not yet. But I knew that day must come. Matt couldn't go on like this.

I stroked my thumb along his cheek. "Is it really worth getting into an argument with me over a simple outing? Save it for something really important. If we're going to have a falling out, it should at least be over something of vital importance."

He tilted his head to the side. "That's the most persuasive case you can come up with?"

"Yes."

He glared at me so I kissed him lightly on the lips. When I pulled away, he sighed.

"Very well, I'll stay here and choose an outfit for you to wear to Aunt Beatrice's soiree." If any more sarcasm dripped from his tone, I would have drowned.

I stood and returned to the other side of the desk. "Thank you. Don't forget jewelry."

He sighed again, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Take Willie and Duke with you."

"I will."

"And don't let Sir Charles bully you into giving up the location of the list or who knows of its existence."

"I won't."

"And press upon him that this is for his superiors' ears only, not Coyle's."

"I will."

"Make him promise you and get him to shake on it. He's a gentleman; a handshake still means something to him."

I glanced at him over the rim of my teacup. "Anything else?"

"Make sure he knows I'll come for him if I find out that Coyle knows."

"I will put as much threat into it as possible. Or Willie will."

"And—"

"Matt! I know what I'm doing." I pointed at the door. "Go."

He rose and strode off without uttering another word, although I could practically see steam rising from his ears. He would calm down soon. He was only angry because he was worried about me. Not that either of us considered Sir Charles an enemy, but he wasn't a friend either. We weren't entirely sure if he could be trusted. We were taking a leap of faith in informing him about the list.

But we'd agreed to do it, if for no other reason than it would prove if he was working for Coyle as well as the government. We had suspected he was feeding Coyle secret information ever since we'd overhead them talking in the garden outside Coyle's house.

We would know soon enough. If Coyle came for the list after we informed Sir Charles of its existence, we'd have our answer.

I studied the next letter, written by a carpenter magician. Even though we weren't giving the list to anyone, and never would, I worried that we were putting these people in danger just by adding their names.