The Female Charm (4 page)

For a few seconds,
she considered leaving her hair around her shoulders but knew Myron
might be annoyed by this. The comment he'd made about her hair
looking better down was associated with a more playful, almost
date-like moment. She'd been summoned for work, not pleasure, and
she should appear as if she was taking it seriously. Ten minutes
later it was in a bun and underneath a deep green net she'd picked
up the week before.

Breakfast was a
hurried affair, and putting together a couple of snacks for the
journey was even swifter, yet she still wasn't quite ready when the
taxi she'd ordered beeped briefly outside her front door. She
yanked on her boots, took one last glance in the mirror and rushed
outside to the waiting car.

As she slipped
into the passenger seat, she breathed a sigh of relief. She still
had half an hour to get to the train station and buy her ticket. At
that time of the morning, it should be more than enough. Any other
delays once she was sat on her train were beyond her control.

Just as she
expected, it didn't take many minutes to get to the train station,
where she paid the taxi fare and rushed inside. The area was almost
devoid of life, and it only served to remind Amelia that she'd been
roused from bed at an ungodly time.

It was still too
early for most people; even the London commuters didn't get up this
early. A British Rail employee stood off to one side, looking
rather unimpressed with the time of the morning, so Amelia went to
the automatic ticket machines and punched in the details for her
destination. She tried not to flinch at the price and briefly
wondered if Myron intended to refund her. So far, he'd paid for
everything related to her lessons except a few minor costs to do
with things like stationery, but she never knew quite what he would
or wouldn't cover. It probably didn't help that she didn't dare
ask.

The whole trip was
rather unexpected, and when Sebastian had first told her that Myron
needed her help today of all days she'd wondered if it was a joke.
It was Valentine's Day and not something she'd expect either Holmes
brother to take part in. Given that she really was going to
Scotland, she could only assume it was a coincidence.

With her ticket in
hand, Amelia scanned over the train departure screen, looking for
the Birmingham train. She would switch there to one going to
Carlisle, even if she got off before. The train was officially
meant to leave at nine past six, but for some reason it said
seventeen instead.

Amelia sighed but
decided to wait out the delay on the platform. Hopefully, it
wouldn't annoy Myron too much if the train was late. It wasn't
something under her control but she wouldn't put it past the Holmes
brother to be disgruntled. She doubted he'd take his temper out on
her but the atmosphere would be decidedly less pleasant.

When she noticed
the signs on the platform, she raised her eyebrows. Both of those
said the train was on time and the next expected to arrive. If
she'd had time, she'd have gone back to the ticket office and
re-checked it, but she didn't and would have to file away the
anomaly as an unexplained event, something never satisfying to
do.

Only a few minutes
later, Amelia was on the train and in her seat. She had four hours
before seeing Myron again and found herself already feeling a small
flutter in her stomach. It always felt like the beginning of an
adventure every time he summoned her. The last one had resulted in
her stealing a USB stick from terrorists, while she and the Holmes
brothers were being held prisoner. Whatever happened today, she
doubted it would be dull.

For a few minutes,
Amelia tried to focus on the people around her in the carriage,
wondering if this might be a lesson of some kind, but her interest
soon waned, and she realised she was looking over the same people
again and coming up with nothing. Instead, she decided to write
until she reached another stop. There were few on the journey, and
the little she might need to notice was likely to happen in between
them.

As she suspected,
the journey to Birmingham was uneventful, and her only moment of
panic was when the first train arrived in Birmingham so delayed she
had to run to get on her connecting train to Lancaster. This train
was busier, and she found it difficult to get a seat, but as the
few stops passed by, and the commuters came and went, she soon
found herself almost alone in her carriage.

Not long before
ten, she tucked away her belongings and took a glance at her
appearance in her compact mirror. She smoothed some stray strands
of hair and made sure her jacket was straight. This might not be a
date, but, given the day, she still wanted to make a good
impression. Until Myron made it very clear he wasn't interested,
she wouldn't give up trying to entice him.

A few minutes
before the train was due to arrive at Lancaster, a young chap,
dressed in a suit and carrying a bunch of roses, came walking down
the carriage, glancing at the passengers more intently than a
normal person would. He stopped right by her and pulled one of the
fresh, long-stemmed roses out of the bunch.

“For you, my fair
lady. Happy Valentine's,” he said with a dramatic bow as he
presented it to her. She laughed and took it, amused by the
Shakespearian antics.

“Thank you, kind
sir, but may I ask as to the reason? We're strangers to each
other.”

“It's a sad tale,
I'm afraid. I had seventeen of them, meant for my true love, but
alas, it seems I am not hers. She made her distaste for my
affections quite clear.”

“I'm so sorry;
that is a sad tale.” Amelia pulled her most sympathetic unhappy
face.

“I have decided to
bestow one on the next seventeen beautiful women I see.”

“Then I shall
treasure it. I hope your day ends better than it started.” Amelia
gave the man a smile as he backed off and then grabbed her handbag.
While they were talking, the train had pulled into the station, and
as sweet as the man had been, she could spare him no more thought.
She hurried to the door and got there just as the last people were
getting on the train. As soon as they were clear, she hopped
off.

Hoping to catch up
with the rest of the departing passengers, Amelia hurried down the
platform and towards the train station exit. A grin spread across
her face as soon as she saw Daniels leaning against the driver door
of Myron's sleek black car. The chauffeur smiled back and doffed
his cap with one hand while he opened the back door for her.

“Good morning,
Daniels,” she said on her way past him and into the interior. She
tried not to let her nervousness at seeing Myron get the better of
her and kept the smile on her face.

“Good morning,
Myron,” she added a few seconds later, noticing that he wasn't
looking at her but out of the opposite car window. He was
impeccably dressed, as always, in a deep green three-piece suit,
with his short black hair slicked back on the sides of his
head.

A small moment of
smugness enveloped her as she realised she'd picked the perfect
colour for all her accessories. They matched. She opened her mouth
to say something related before her brain caught up and reminded
her that he would find the thoughts far too feminine and probably
childish. As she closed her mouth over the words, he finally looked
her way, his eyes stopping when they caught sight of the rose in
her hands. He frowned.

“I do hope that's
not for me?” he asked.

Uhh... No... It's
mine. I mean, I was given it.” She leant forward to tuck the stem
into the side of her handbag, feeling the intensity of Myron's gaze
and wanting to gather her thoughts.

“Valentine's Day,”
he sneered. “I hope whoever gave you that rose won't distract you
from why you're really here. I don't have time for that sort of
sentimentality.”

Amelia wasn't
sure, but she thought she heard a hint of jealousy in his voice.
But if it was jealousy, was it because he didn't have a Valentine
of his own or because he wasn't hers?

“It was just some
gentleman on the train. He had some going spare and offered me
one,” she explained, wondering if she really ought to justify it,
but she plunged on anyway. “I have no Valentine of my own.”

Myron turned back
to the window and what was now moving scenery, hiding any possible
reaction to her words. It didn't take her long to realise she was
being silly. Neither Holmes brother was sentimental, just like he'd
said.

“Anyway, I am
here, as you summoned. What would you have me do?”

“As my brother
summoned,” he replied, correcting her. Her eyes widened before she
could hide her reaction. Myron was in a very unpleasant mood.
Several angry responses flashed through her head, but she held them
all back. It would do no good to antagonise him more, despite
wanting to.

“What would you
have me do?” she asked again as gently as she could. He sighed and
met her eyes, this time acknowledging that she was really
there.

“You're here to
observe and learn. I would normally send my brother to handle these
tasks, but he insists he is busy today.”

“Of course he
does,” she sighed and shook her head. “And, of course, he then
phoned me to let me know how much I was required to assist you
today,” she said, reacting to feeling played by Sebastian before
she could stop herself. Immediately, she regretted interrupting
Myron, but for once he nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps you
should have been more careful about keeping our arrangement from
him.”

“You know about
that, then.” She looked down, knowing he'd be angry.

“Of course. It was
obvious. I'm surprised you thought hiding it was a good idea.”

Amelia let out
another sigh. At the time she'd told Sebastian that his brother
would find out, she had just expected to be able to tell Myron
before he did. She knew, in retrospect, it was a very stupid
mistake to make.

“You aren't going
to try and justify your actions?” he asked when she didn't say
anything more.

“No. There's no
point. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have. It is as simple as
that.”

“My brother seems
to think it's his fault and that I shouldn't blame you. But we both
know, you underestimated his intelligence.”

“So our agreement
is broken.”

“Yes, again.”

So far, seeing
Myron again was going as badly as it could. She felt her insides
squirm and had to will herself not to show her discomfort any
further. It wouldn't stop him dismissing her, but it might help her
think.

Amelia looked up
from her hands as she realised it made no sense. Why was she here
if she'd broken their agreement again? Myron must have some other
reason for keeping her around.

A few seconds
later, he met her gaze and they stared at each other, the unspoken
question of why lingering between them, but neither of them voicing
it or the answer.

“You've shown that
you have talent, Amelia, even if it isn't quite at the level of my
brother, but you must be aware of how dangerous our line of work
is. There may come a time when neither I nor Sebastian will be able
to come to your rescue. Do you truly understand the level of
intelligence you need to have just to survive what we do?”

This wasn't what
Amelia had expected Myron to say next but she knew it was
important. She tilted her head to the side, trying to read the
expression on his face as well as consider the words carefully. She
knew he had disobeyed a command to save her only weeks earlier and
paid a high price, and now he was letting her know he couldn't do
that again.

“I don't think I
understood that the first time I asked you to teach me, although
I'm beginning to now. I want to continue.”

“Then no more
mistakes, Amelia. You can't afford them,” he said and finally broke
their eye contact. She let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd
been holding and fought back the grin wanting to run rampant across
her face. He cared; it was the only explanation.

“To our task,
then?” she asked once she was in full control of her emotions.

“Yes. I hope I
don't have to remind you that what I'm about to tell you is in the
strictest confidence?”

She shook her
head. Myron wasn't someone she'd ever betray.

It didn't take
long to tell Amelia everything that Mycroft knew so far. Just
before he'd left the house, his secretary had informed him of the
account used to pay Mr McGregory. It was owned by a small, but
well-read, Scottish newspaper, although they'd tried to cover their
tracks. Now he needed to ensure the information they had never made
it to print.

Immediately,
Amelia pulled out her phone and tapped in the key details.

“I'll see if we
can work out which reporter it's likely to be,” she said. “It will
at least make use of our travel time.”

He nodded, glad
she would do something useful while he gathered his thoughts. Their
conversation so far had been little to the plan he'd made. Somehow,
his anger at being forced from London had bubbled over into his
warning for her. Thankfully, she appeared to have taken it
well.

How long until
we're in Scotland?” Mycroft said loudly enough that Daniels would
hear him.

“I'm estimating
seventeen past the hour, but it will take another half-hour or so
before we're in Lockerbie,” Daniels replied, not taking his eyes
off the road or pausing for a second.

Out of the corner
of his eye, Mycroft noticed Amelia look up from her phone and raise
her eyebrows. Satisfaction rippled through him. It appeared she was
noticing everything she ought to.

Although he
already suspected a particular reporter at the newspaper, it was
also good that Amelia was trying to figure it out. Hopefully, she
would arrive at the same conclusion before they reached Lockerbie,
and they could pay a visit to both the source and the reporter in
one short space of time.