The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele Book 1) (23 page)

"I wonder if he did ever meet another."

Matt shrugged. "Parsons couldn't help me fix the watch. As the problem is in the horology magic, not the medical magic, a timepiece magician is required to service the watch. No ordinary watchmaker can do it."

"What about a different magic watchmaker?" I asked, curling my fingers around my own watch. "One who isn't Chronos, but is a magician?"

"Parsons seemed to think only the original magician can fix it."

I looked down at my fist. My watch's case felt cool now, not warm as it had been the evening before, when McTierney attacked me. I swallowed heavily. My mind was a jumble of questions and theories, all vying for attention. I managed to sort through them. There was only one pressing point. What if Parsons was wrong?

"Matt," I whispered, looking up at him.

He crouched before me. His gaze searched mine, worried and yet curious too. "What is it, India?"

"Last night…my watch wrapped itself around McTierney's wrist and shocked him. It almost killed him."

I opened my fist and he plucked the watch off my palm. He inspected it and opened the case. "Did your father make it?"

I nodded.

"Do you think he could have been a magician?"

"I don't know. But that watch chimed and moved of its own accord. I think the clock in the gambling house saved me too." I told him how it had dipped unexpectedly when I threw it to knock over Lord Dennison.

"That reminds me," he said darkly. "I ought to pay him a visit."

"You'll do no such thing. The incident is in the past. Anyway, what I'm trying to tell you is, I handled that clock. I toyed with its mechanisms for something to do while Willie played. Just as I've taken this watch apart and put it back together dozens of times."

His eyes widened. "You think
you're
a magician? I admit that I have wondered. My watch feels warmer when you're near, as if it's responding to your presence."

I lifted one shoulder. "I don't know what to think. The entire concept of magic is so new to me, and so very strange. I know nothing about it."

He placed the watch back in my palm and closed his hand around mine. "I know so little as well."

"Matt…if I am…I might be able to help you." I placed my hand over the pocket of his waistcoat. His watch heated at my touch. We both felt it.

He swallowed hard and nodded. Then he pulled the watch out. "Take it apart. Do whatever you did to your watch and that clock and we'll see if it makes a difference."

I didn't tell him I already had done so before taking it to him at Vine Street Police Station. Perhaps now that I knew a little more, my magic would show me what to do. I set to work immediately. He didn't stay. I removed the parts and laid them out. I cleaned them, inspected them, and returned them to their place again. It was easy; the mechanism was uncomplicated. But I felt no strange pull, no magic at work.

Matt returned carrying tea and sandwiches on a tray. "Aunt is asking when you'll be ready to go shopping," he said, setting it down beside me. "You're finished?"

I snapped the watch case closed and held it out to him by the chain. He accepted it and closed his fist around it. It immediately glowed and the magic flowed into him, lighting his veins. I watched its progress up his throat, over his face to his hairline. He breathed, breathed again, then returned it to his pocket. His color returned to normal.

"Well?" I prompted, no longer able to sit. "How do you feel?"

"Like I could kiss you."

My breath hitched. "So it works more efficiently now?"

"I don't know. I won't know for a few more hours, but I still want to kiss you." He smiled. He looked happier than I'd ever seen him. "I've shocked you."

"Yes," I said, turning away so he couldn't see my flushed face. "Tell me how you feel later."

* * *

M
att's watch
was not fixed. He still needed to use it every few hours, instead of every week, like it had once been. He told me in private in the library after dinner.

"I just used it again," he said.

I clasped my brandy tumbler in both hands and stared into the liquid. My vision blurred. I swallowed the entire contents. "I'm sorry, Matt."

He plucked the glass out of my hand. "It's not your fault."

"I know," I said heavily. Yet I felt like I'd failed him. "Do you think my magic is different to Chronos's?"

"I've been considering that, but I honestly don't know. I wonder if your magic is simply raw. Perhaps, with training, you could extend the life of my watch."

But there was no one to train me. And with magic being such a deep secret, we were unlikely to find a magician in the newspaper advertisements. Even worse, we were unlikely to find Chronos himself.

"Perhaps if we discuss this development with the guild—"

"No." He slammed the glass down on the table. "No, India, you are not to mention magic to them. You saw their faces. They already dislike you. This will make it worse for you. Besides, from what Dr. Parsons told me, the authorities are the most fearful of magicians. We don't have guilds in America, but there are committees and other groups that govern trades and crafts. He claimed magicians are not welcome. They're reviled, in fact. You must keep your magic a secret, India. Understand?"

I nodded. "Since Abercrombie and the other members were fearful of me, they must have suspected I possessed magic," I said. "But how? Did they sense it, do you think?"

"Perhaps. Or did they know your father was magic, even though he didn't use it? Perhaps they learned as much when he was dying, since you said it wasn't until around that time that they became fearful of you."

"A little before, when he tried to get them to admit me to the guild," I said, absently. "But Father wasn't a magician. I would have known, or suspected. He was never anything but normal."

He refilled my glass from the decanter on the sideboard and handed it to me. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation."

I sighed. "I suppose there must be." I drank in silence, feeling his intense gaze on me but not daring to meet it. My cheeks were warm enough. "Tell me what you said to Abercrombie to get him to cease accusing me of theft. He claimed you threatened him."

"It was hardly a threat. I merely explained that I work for the police on two continents and am a personal friend to Commissioner Munro. As such, Munro is more likely to believe my account of events over his."

"That's it? There were no threats made to his person?"

"I may have used language and a tone of voice that seems to scare some people easily."

"Ah yes,
that
voice. I've heard it." I smiled. "Thank you, Matt. I appreciate it."

He waved a hand. "It's nothing."

It didn't feel like nothing, but I let the matter rest. "Do the others know that I tried to fix your watch?"

He nodded. "They've been urging me to ask you." He fished in his inside jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. "There's another reason I called you in here."

"Oh?"

"This arrived for you while you were out. I wanted to give it to you in private."

It was a telegram, all the way from America. "It says that Dorchester is indeed Patrick McTierney." I read on and gasped. "The reward will be sent to me at this address in gold bullion!" I bit my lip but couldn't stop my smile. I re-read the telegram then looked up at Matt. He smiled. "I am to get the reward?"

"Of course."

"But…he was here because of you."

"You caught him."

"It's your job, and you have all these people to support."

"India, I'm a man of independent means. My father saw to that. He worked hard after he escaped his family here, and built a property empire that spans the globe. I don't need the reward money." His eyes sparkled as he perched on the table next to me. "So what will you do with it?"

"I don't know. How much is two thousand dollars in English money?"

"About four hundred pounds."

"Four hundred!" I downed the rest of my brandy in one gulp.

Matt took the glass off me. "Steady, India, or I'll have to carry you to your room."

I hardly heard him. Four hundred pounds was more than my father earned in a year. Was it enough to buy my own shop and equipment? Was it enough to buy out Eddie?

Perhaps, but I still couldn't be a shopkeeper. The guild would never grant me a license. I could buy myself a small house and rent out a spare room to lodgers. The possibilities were endless and rather exciting. Even better, I didn't have to make a decision yet. For now, I would remain as Miss Glass's companion and live at Park Street.

"Matt, do you know a man of business here in London who can help me invest the gold for the time being?"

"My father's lawyer will know someone."

"Nothing risky. I don't want to lose it."

"Then perhaps a bank vault for now, until such time as you need it." He lifted his glass in salute. "Congratulations, India, you are now a woman of independent means. You deserve it."

Warmth spread through me at his crooked smile. The brandy must be taking effect.

"Matt!" Duke shouted from just outside the door. "Matt, you in here?" He pushed open the door and grunted. "Good. Go and stop your hare-brained cousin from ruining her life."

Matt glanced at me and sighed. He set his glass down and pushed off from the table. "What's she doing now?"

"Going to meet Lord Travers to try and win back her locket."

"How?" Matt asked. "She hasn't got anything left to gamble with."

"She's wearing a dress."

"Hell." Matt stormed out of the library, leaving me wondering how Willie wearing a dress was a problem.

And then it struck me. She was going to offer
herself
to Lord Travers as payment.

I picked up my skirts and raced after Duke and Matt. I found them confronting Willie in her room. She'd applied some color to her cheeks and lips, and her hair flowed around her shoulders. She was beautiful.

"You look like a whore!" Duke snarled.

"That's the point," she shot back. She eyed Matt, standing with rigid shoulders, his entire body expanding with his deep breaths. I suspected the deep breathing was an attempt to control his temper, but it wasn't working particularly well. I was glad the hard gleam in his eye wasn't directed at me.

I stepped between them. "I'll lend you the money," I told Willie. "I have some coming to me shortly. Perhaps Lord Travers will accept a promissory for now."

Willie blinked at me, but it didn't stop her eyes filling with tears. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course."

"I can't accept it. This is my predicament, and I'll get myself out of it. Thank you, but I don't want your money. Or yours, Matt."

"I'm not offering you any," he snarled. "I'm going to win the locket back for you. Get your coat." He turned and marched out of the room.

"Is he a good poker player?" I asked when he was out of earshot.

"He's the best there is," Willie said quietly.

"Was," Duke said. "He hasn't played since the gunfight with his grandfather. He gave up all his gambling and drinking ways after that."

"It's not something you forget," Willie told him.

"You better hope not. Come on, let's go."

"I'll get my coat," I said, hurrying to my own room.

* * *

M
r. Unger agreed
to the private game between Lord Travers and Matt. The hush that had descended upon our entrance lifted as excited voices eagerly placed wagers on who would win. All the games were suspended so everyone could watch. Unger rearranged the furniture and Travers and Matt took their seats.

Lord Dennison wedged himself between me and Duke. The scar on his forehead from the wound inflicted by the clock looked red and raw.

"What a pleasant surprise," he murmured thickly in my ear. "If your friend loses, will you wager yourself this time? I'll be tempted to play—"

He was suddenly ripped away. Matt held him by the collar, pulling it tight and high at Dennison's throat. Dennison's struggles only managed to give him a red face, and score a few laughs from the others at his expense. "Is this the fellow?" Matt growled at me.