A Little Knowledge (43 page)

“Catherine!” Elizabeth’s shrill voice cut through her. “Stop staring at William and arrange my train!”

As she fussed with Elizabeth’s dress under their mother’s watchful eye, a carriage arrived bearing the Iris crest. Cathy looked up, expecting to see Will’s parents emerge with Imogen, but only his mother stepped out, and she looked dreadfully pale.

“Where’s George Iris?” her father said, but her mother pretended not to hear, disinterested.

Will went over to his mother, who broke down as he got to her. Startled, he guided her away, out of sight round the corner of the building.

“Something’s wrong,” Cathy said, wondering if she should go and help.

“Is there a stain?” Elizabeth squeaked, thinking she was referring to the train of the dress.

Just as she was about to find Will, he came back into sight, looking grave. Cathy abandoned the hem of Elizabeth’s gown and went to him, tuning out her protestations.

“What’s happened?” she asked him.

“I have to go, my love; there’s a family emergency and I’m needed at home.”

Cathy saw her mother-in-law being guided back to her carriage by one of the footmen. “Is it Imogen?”

Will kissed her hands. “Please give my sincerest apologies to your family. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He started to go, then turned and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Go home after the wedding and wait for me, my love. I’m so sorry I can’t be with you.”

Wanting to go with him, but knowing she had to stay, Cathy watched Will climb into the carriage and give her a worried smile as it pulled away.

Elizabeth’s bottom lip was trembling when she returned. “Don’t tell me the Irises are going to snub my wedding too!”

“Something terrible has happened,” Cathy said, looking at her father. “I don’t know what, but Will’s mother was so upset. I’ve never seen her that way.”

“I can’t believe it!” Elizabeth moaned. “Surely this is a bad omen!”

“Hush now,” their father said. “Your groom is waiting inside, that’s the most important thing. The Irises wouldn’t miss this unless something extraordinary happened, which it evidently has and there’s nothing to be done about it. Now chin up, Elizabeth. Let’s see that beautiful smile. You’re about to become a Viola!”

Elizabeth smiled right on cue, no doubt thinking about how she was about to become a very wealthy young lady too.

Cathy started to head towards the wedding party but was held back by her mother, who judged it better to have Cathy drop out than there be an unbalanced group. Instead, they went inside to sit with the rest of the guests, Cathy feeling a guilty thankfulness that with Will absent, she didn’t have to walk up the aisle as part of the ceremony.

Being back in the huge building that surrounded the Oak brought back memories of her unhappiness on her wedding day, and her anger, but it seemed so distant now. She didn’t know then how happy she’d be with Will. If she had, would she have been less reluctant to marry? There were other reasons to strain against the bonds made that day, after all. Not that she could recall them easily now. Perhaps she had simply grown up, or rather grown into herself now.

Everyone else in the rows of seats nodded to her, though Cathy saw how many of them did it without any real warmth. All of them were respectful, at least. She saw her aunt, the Censor of Aquae Sulis, and gave her a polite nod, which earned the slightest one back. At least she had a beaming smile and merry wave from her Uncle Lavandula. He smiled at the scowl his sister gave him and winked at Cathy before turning to face front again.

The groom waited at the front, a fair-haired man who looked twice Elizabeth’s age and rather bemused by it all. Beside him stood Bertrand Viola and no matter how much she knew she must, Cathy couldn’t muster a smile for him. Charlotte sat in the front row, bolt upright, facing front. Oh, how she wanted to go over there and punch Bertrand in the face!

“That’s a beautiful choker, Catherine,” her mother whispered as the last guests took their places. “I’ve never seen a design quite like it.”

“Will gave it to me this morning,” she said, tracing the outline of the sapphire as she spoke.

Her mother reached across and squeezed her hand. “I do hope you find happiness with him, Catherine.”

The earnest words made tears prick in Cathy’s eyes. She leaned over. “I hope you find it too,” she whispered, and they shared a smile both sad and hopeful.

The wedding went smoothly without any drama, which was quite remarkable, considering Elizabeth was involved. Then again, Elizabeth was at the centre of attention, where she most liked to be, so she could be happy and even seem quite sweet without having to be shrill at any point.

Cathy tried to get to Charlotte during the reception, just to give her a smile or a whisper of reassurance that she hadn’t forgotten about her, but Bertrand kept steering her away. He wasn’t even trying to hide what he was doing. She resolved to go and visit her again soon.

After the tenth person enquired after Will’s health and the well-being of the Irises, Cathy had had enough. She made her goodbyes, kissed Elizabeth as she genuinely wished her well, and then climbed into the carriage with relief. She saw Bertrand escorting Charlotte out as the carriage pulled away and her heart ached to see how pale and thin she looked.

All the way home, Carter inside the carriage instead of on the back, Cathy chewed her thumbnail, trying to work out a way to free Charlotte from her odious husband. If only divorce were a possibility—but there was no way to make that permissible fast enough. With a sigh, she doubted any changes would happen to the law anytime soon. It all seemed so hopeless. She needed to talk to Will about the Ladies’ Court and about Gujarat and couldn’t believe they had slipped her mind. She was tired, that was all, and Will had been so affectionate that morning, it was hard to keep a thought in her head when he was like that. Keeping her mind on anything seemed—

“We’re home, your Grace,” Carter said, opening the carriage door for her.

She hadn’t even noticed. As she climbed down the step, Morgan opened the door, looking worried. “Is it Will? Is he back?” she asked, hurrying up the steps to him.

“No, your Grace. Is he not with you?”

“He was called away. What’s wrong?”

Morgan lowered his voice. “The Arbiter is here, your Grace, the one who visited before. He said he needs to speak with you on a matter of great importance and refused to leave until he saw you.”

Max? She realised she hadn’t checked her phone for a few days. “Is he in the drawing room?” At Morgan’s nod, she went straight to it and found Max waiting for her.

“Hi!” she said. “Long time no see. No tea for us, thanks,” she said to Morgan, who had trailed after her nervously. Carter took up his position outside the door, having had time to eye Max warily before Cathy shut it.

Max inserted something into the keyhole. “So we can’t be overheard,” he said.

“Is the gargoyle with you?”

“He’s nearby. I tried to reach you by using the mobile telephone but you never responded.”

“Sorry, I haven’t been able to get into Mundanus for a few days. What’s up?”

“You didn’t get my warning, then?”

Her first thought was of Will and how his mother had looked. “About what?”

“I had reason to believe you were going to be attacked.”

“Oh! I was. I mean, my carriage was. They ran away. How did you know that was going to happen?”

“It came up in an investigation,” Max said. “I take it you know a Mr Bertrand Persificola-Viola? He’s a resident of Londinium.”

“I do,” she said, not bothering to hide her feelings about him.

“I have intelligence that indicates he’s the head of a secret society called the Second Sons. They’re responsible for several breaches of the Split Worlds Treaty and the attack on your carriage. There’s evidence to suggest they’re targeting you specifically, and I have reason to believe they’re a threat to your person.”

Cathy’s heart felt as if it had jumped into her throat to pound there instead. “Bertrand Viola sent those men? Wait, you said ‘second sons’…is Will…?”

Max shook his head. “I have no reason to believe your husband is involved with them, and I’m confident I know all the members of the group now. I doubt he even knows they exist.”

Cathy breathed a sigh of relief, feeling terrible that she’d even contemplated his involvement. Of course Will wouldn’t be involved with anything like that. “Bertrand Viola? Shit, I bet his bloody goons were behind those letters, too!”

“Letters?”

“Hate mail, threats…nasty stuff. Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be without interrogating him myself.”

“Take a seat,” Cathy said, gesturing to the sofa. “I need all the details.”

Will paced in the waiting room, desperately hoping Sir Iris hadn’t passed his judgement yet. He’d left his mother with Imogen, who was just as distraught, after coaxing out a garbled account of his father being arrested for no reason. Will knew enough about Arbiters to know they didn’t arrest men as powerful as his father without good cause.

At first he considered contacting Faulkner and asking him to look into it. But Faulkner and the rest of the Arbiters who were willing to do his bidding were based in London; they wouldn’t have anything to do with events in Aquae Sulis. Besides, it would take time to arrange a meeting, time he felt would be put to better use trying to get an audience with the Patroon and working on a plan of his own.

After what felt like hours, he was finally collected and escorted to the Patroon’s study. Sir Iris was seated at his desk, as before, only younger-looking than the last time Will had sat in this chair.

“You’re here about your father, no doubt.”

“In part, Sir Iris. Have you passed your judgement on him?”

Sir Iris leaned back. “No. But I won’t lie to you, William. It’s very serious. Are you aware of the case against him?”

Will shook his head. “Whatever he has done, I am certain he did it for the family and our patron and that is enough for me.”

“Bold words, young man. The Arbiter has pushed for his expulsion from Society and exile into Mundanus, where he’d be kept under close surveillance until his death.”

The thought of his father’s ageing and death in Mundanus made Will feel nauseous. “Sir Iris, it is not my place to interfere in any of this, and please don’t think that I don’t trust your judgement…”

Sir Iris straightened. “Any other son and I would throw him out of my office now. I haven’t the time or inclination to listen to anyone pleading for their loved one.”

“Please don’t think so little of me, Sir Iris. I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time so. I come with critical information that I fear may not have reached your office. I simply ask that you hear me out before making your final decision.”

Sir Iris smiled, and this time, Will believed it. Perhaps having Eleanor returned to him had dusted off his heart. “You’ve certainly pulled rabbits out of hats in the past. Speak—I’m eager to see if you can impress me twice in one week.”

“My father was arrested at home, by an Arbiter claiming to work with the sanction of the Sorcerer of Wessex. Sir, I have good reason to believe that the Sorcerer of Wessex is dead and has not been replaced.”

Sir Iris looked genuinely shocked. “How could you possibly have come to know this?”

“I overheard a conversation between two Arbiters, sir, discussing the crisis.” Will kept his eyes fixed on Sir Iris and his breath as even as he possibly could. It was a hell of a risk he was taking, but he had to try to save his father and stretching the truth was a necessity. He could never say it was a conversation he’d received thirdhand between an Arbiter and his wife, but he could report the pertinent information from it.

“And you are certain of this?”

“As far as I can be, Sir Iris. My initial enquiries have confirmed this.” Sir Iris didn’t need to know that those were reports from the Agency staff, who were far from reliable. “It seems to me that this is a rogue Arbiter, acting without the support of a superior. If you were to be lenient with my father, I am confident”—his heart banged as he said it—“that there would be no further action taken. There is no Sorcerer watching over Aquae Sulis to press for a harsher punishment should yours be considered unsatisfactory.”

Sir Iris was staring at him, lips pressed tight together.

Will decided to make the most of the silence. “It isn’t just my filial devotion that drives this, Sir Iris, though of course as a loving son I want to see my father safe and well. There’s another factor, one I learned of only this morning, that makes my father’s survival more pressing.” He paused, but Sir Iris just waited, so he continued. “I’ve learned that Isabella Rhoeas-Papaver intends to leave her husband very soon, possibly within days. No doubt Charles would try to keep this hidden, fearing that if the news were to emerge that his marriage had failed, his patron would be displeased and he would lose the support of the Lavandulas as well as the other minor families who pay their tithes to him in Aquae Sulis. If you were to stand by my father, give him nothing more than a slapped wrist and send him home, he’d be able to maximise our gains from the Papaver family’s collapse in Aquae Sulis and tip the balance of the Council. We could take the city, Sir Iris, leaving the Lavandulas in place as figureheads if we chose.”

“If
we
chose?”

Will coughed. “I mean, the family, Sir Iris. It would of course be the decision of you and my father. If he were still able to profit from this intelligence.”

Sir Iris maintained his stare for a few seconds longer and then smiled broadly as he clapped. “Bravo, William, bravo. I see now why our patron favours you so, and why my dear wife speaks so fondly of you.”

Will dared to breathe normally again, giving a smile but not letting his guard down for a moment. “So you agree that it’s worth the risk to call the Arbiter’s bluff?”

“I do, William, I do.” Sir Iris stood. “Your father will be home for dinner and nothing will be said of this unfortunate incident. I will discuss your insights regarding the Papavers’ marriage with him, so he will ensure we emerge from their crisis with Aquae Sulis under the full control of the Irises.”