A Matter of Magic (57 page)

“I can’t imagine why you thought I would be interested in Letitia Tarnower’s
amours
,” Mairelon said. “No doubt you had your reasons.”

“That wasn’t all they were talking about. I’ll tell you later.”

“Do you mean that?” Lord Starnes said, raising his head. His voice was suddenly hopeful.

“Of course she means it,” Mairelon said.

“No, did you mean what you said about Letitia—Miss Tarnower, that is?”

Mairelon frowned. “Do you know, I was under the impression that
I
was the one who was going to be asking questions and
you
were the one who was going to answer them. I can’t think how I made such a mistake. Possibly it has something to do with the brandy.”

“What brandy?” Lord Starnes said, bewildered. “I wasn’t drinking brandy; I was drinking gin.”

No wonder he hadn’t noticed the smell on Mairelon’s breath. Kim sighed and plopped into the nearest chair. If the two of them kept it up, this would take even longer than she had thought.

“Is that why you broke into my brother’s house?” Mairelon said politely. “Because you’ve been drinking gin?”

“Of course not,” Lord Starnes said. “Can’t expect to find Blue Ruin in a place like this.”

“Why not?” Mairelon said. “The cellars at Osterly House are half full of it, and the Racknetts practically bathe in the stuff. Not to mention—”

“Why
did
you come, then?” Kim interrupted before Mairelon ended up enumerating every gentry ken in town at which one could perfectly well expect to find gin in great quantities.

“I came for the book,” Lord Starnes said.

“That, we know,” Mairelon said. “The question is, why? It isn’t good for anything.”

“It is the key to a fortune!” Lord Starnes said dramatically, then broke out in a coughing fit. “Could you move your knee?” he asked Mairelon plaintively when he recovered.

“If I move my knee, I won’t be able to balance,” Mairelon said. “Get up, and we’ll sit down at the table and talk in comfort.”

“Oh, very well,” Lord Starnes said.

They rearranged themselves according to this program, while Kim shifted impatiently in her chair. Then Mairelon looked at Lord Starnes and said, “Now, about this fortune?”

“It was the wizards,” Lord Starnes explained. “The Frenchies. There were seven of ’em, and they knew the Terror was coming, so they put all their valuables in a secret vault and locked it with a spell. They each put part of the spell in a book, because they didn’t trust each other, y’see, and then they left France. And the vault is still there, with a fortune in it seven times over, because they never went back. But it takes all seven books to get in.”

“Fascinating,” Mairelon murmured. “And how do you come to know all this?”

“M’grandfather knew one of ’em,” Lord Starnes confessed. Having begun, he seemed almost eager to tell his story. “Fellow he met at a concert in Vienna, named d’Armand. They hit it off wonderfully, and d’Armand told him the whole story and gave my grandfather his book for fear of losing it.”

“That sounds extremely unlikely,” Mairelon said. “Especially since d’Armand was killed very soon after he left France. Have some brandy.”

Lord Starnes shrugged as he took the glass Mairelon proffered. “My grandfather had d’Armand’s book, and he said that d’Armand must have had a what-you-call-it, a vision that he was going to die, because a week later he drowned. And since Grandfather didn’t know any of the
other Frenchies, and had no idea how to get in touch with them, he didn’t do anything.”

“That sounds even more unlikely,” Mairelon said.

“You never met my grandfather.” Lord Starnes sighed. “Lucky man.”

“Me, or your grandfather? Never mind. What made you decide to collect the rest of the books? I assume that is what you have in mind—collect all seven of the books and claim the fortune.”

“Letitia Tarnower,” Kim said. “That’s what did it. I told you, she’s hanging out for a rich husband.”

“I will hear no word against Miss Tarnower,” Lord Starnes said belligerently.

“No one has spoken any,” Mairelon reassured him. “About these books—”

Lord Starnes heaved a sigh. “I would never have thought of it myself. But Mannering assured me that no one would know, and it would be the making of both of us.”

Kim’s eyes widened, and she and Mairelon exchanged glances. “Mannering?” Kim said in a careful tone.

“Yes, he’s a cent-per-cent, a moneylender, that I’ve done business with,” Lord Starnes said. Kim nodded, and helpfully refilled his glass. Lord Starnes took an absentminded pull and went on, “I gave him d’Armand’s book last year as collateral, along with some other things. I thought he’d take it because he has a great interest in wizardry, though I didn’t realize at the time that he was one himself.”

“He isn’t,” Kim said before she could stop herself.

“I’ve seen him work spells myself,” Lord Starnes contradicted her.

“When was that?” Mairelon said.

“About a month ago, right after he offered to take me into partnership over this French vault,” Lord Starnes answered. His shoulders sagged. “I didn’t realize he wanted a lot of poking and prying and sneaking into people’s houses. I thought we’d just quietly buy up the other books somehow, and then I’d go to France and . . . and . . . collect everything.”

“I see.” Mairelon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And when did you discover that the business was more complex than you had anticipated?”

“When Mannering sent me to get the first two books,” Lord Starnes
said. “I thought—but he gave me a couple of twigs that he’d set spells in and told me to break into the house. It was some awful place north of the city—”

“Not Hampstead?” Mairelon said.

“No, but near there, I think,” Starnes replied. “It took me forever to find it, and then when I got inside it was a regular rabbit’s warren. Books everywhere, stacks of them, in the drawing room and the dining room and even the
bedrooms
! I could only find one of the ones Mannering wanted. I think they only
had
one—they were the two wizards who were supposed to be married, you know, and what would they want with one each? Especially when they had all those others. But Mannering was very upset about it.”

“Ah, that would be the Comte du Franchard and the Comtesse de Beauvoix,” Mairelon said, refilling Starnes’s glass once more.

Lord Starnes didn’t notice. “Yes, that’s right, the comte and comtesse. And then we had to track down the book you have, and I didn’t manage to get hold of it, either.” Lord Starnes sighed. “Mannering was livid. Said that if I couldn’t get him the book, I’d have to make payments on the loan he’d given me! I had to go down to White’s and it’s a dashed good thing the cards were in my favor that night. Most of it.”

“Is that when you lost your ring to Lord Moule?” Mairelon said. “The gold one with the ruby center?”

“Now, how did you know about that?” Lord Starnes said, astonished.

“Magic,” Kim told him.

“Oh, of course.” Lord Starnes tried to look intelligent. Failing, he took another drink of brandy instead.

“It’s obvious how you were planning to, er, acquire the books that were here in England,” Mairelon said thoughtfully. “But how were you planning to get hold of the Russian book? And the Hungarian one? Or didn’t you know about them?”

“Oh, I knew the books weren’t all in England,” Lord Starnes said. “That’s one of the reasons I never bothered to try for the seven of them myself. But Mannering said he’d arrange for the other two to be brought to London, and Durmontov showed up right on schedule. Whatever it was, it doesn’t seem to have worked with the Hungarian, though.”

“So Prince Alexei Durmontov is also involved in this interesting scheme of yours?” Mairelon kept his voice carefully neutral.

Lord Starnes looked startled. “No, of course not. If we’d gotten him involved, we’d have to split the money with him. No, no, Mannering tricked him somehow.”

“That explains it,” Kim said, topping off Lord Starnes’s glass again.

“It didn’t occur to you, I suppose, that the surviving wizards might want their belongings themselves?” Mairelon said in a deceptively mild tone.

“They’ve gotten along without them for thirty years,” Starnes said sullenly. “If they wanted the treasure back, they should have made some push to get at it. And anyway, they can’t get in without d’Armand’s book.”

Kim shook her head incredulously. “So you and Mannering decided to lighten
six wizards
? Of all the cloth-headed notions! Nobody with any sense tries to crack a frog-maker’s ken, let alone six of ’em. It’s too chancy.”

“I’m a bit of a wizard myself,” Lord Starnes said with dignity. “I got past your wards tonight, after all.”

“It didn’t do you much good, did it?” Kim retorted. “And anyway, you didn’t get past them. You set off all the warning spells.”

“I was afraid it was three circles, and not two,” Lord Starnes muttered, suddenly deflated. “But if I’d gotten the spell right—”

Kim snorted. “It still wouldn’t have done you no good. Amateurs! Magic won’t help if you can’t even put your feet down careful.”

Mairelon’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Yes, well, no doubt he didn’t anticipate running across an expert on the crack lay,” he said to Kim.

“Part of the job is looking ahead,” Kim said crossly. “He should of known I was here.”

“Should have known,” Mairelon corrected. He leaned forward, and Kim saw an almost undetectable tension in his shoulders. “I don’t suppose you know where Mannering is at the moment?” he asked Lord Starnes in a casual tone.

Lord Starnes shook his head. “He’s gotten very . . . strange these last
few weeks,” he said in a confidential tone. “Flies out at people for no reason, that sort of thing. And then a week and a half ago, he closed his office. I was afraid he’d got hold of the other books without me and gone off to France, but it turned out it was no such thing.”

“And how do you know that, if you haven’t seen Mannering in a week and a half?” Mairelon said.

“Oh, I’ve
seen
him. Twice. I just don’t know where he is.”

Mairelon and Kim looked at him in wordless expectation.

“He sent me a note,” Lord Starnes explained. “And then I went down to meet him at some warehouse off the docks. It was a dreadful place, worse than Hampstead. Took my valet half a day to get the smell of fish out of my coat.”

“You said you’d seen him twice,” Mairelon said, emptying the last of the brandy into Lord Starnes’s glass. “Was it the same warehouse both times?”

“No. The second one was even worse.” Starnes shuddered in remembrance. “Mannering didn’t look well, either. I think his brain is turning. He talked of sending a couple of footpads after that Russian fellow. What’s the point in that, when we’ve already got his copy of the book?”

“Footpads?” Mairelon said thoughtfully. “What a good thing for the prince that he’s out of town.”

“I’ve thought a couple of times that I’d be better off out of it,” Lord Starnes said. “But there’s Letitia . . .”

“Yes, well, I doubt that Miss Tarnower will look favorably on your suit if you end up in gaol.”

Lord Starnes’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that. But you know, you’re right.” He emptied his glass and gazed mournfully into the bottom.

Kim rolled her eyes. Mairelon gave her a stern look and said to Starnes, “You go home and think it over. If you have any more messages from this Mannering fellow, let me know and I’ll deal with him. But if you do any more breaking into houses or stealing books—or even merely
trying
to steal them—I’ll be down in Bow Street the next morning. Is that clear?”

Lord Starnes was initially disposed to argue, but between them, Kim
and Mairelon got him out of the house at last, with the clear understanding that he was not to attempt any more amateur burglaries.

“Do you think he’ll remember in the morning?” Kim said as they watched Lord Starnes wobble off down the street.

“He’ll have the devil of a head after mixing gin and brandy, but he’s not so well to live that he’ll forget what happened.” Mairelon rubbed his forehead. “Neither am I, though I almost wish I were. The more we find out, the less sense any of it makes. If this keeps up, I’ll be ready for Bedlam by the end of the week.”

Kim swallowed hard as the memory of Ma Yanger rose unbidden in her mind. “Don’t joke about it.”

“What? No.” Mairelon sighed. “I’m too tired to think straight now; it’ll have to wait until morning. Don’t run off with one of your swains tomorrow until we’ve had a chance to talk.”

“I won’t,” Kim told his back as it retreated up the stairs.

Kim did not get to sleep for a long time; she had too much to think about. She was no more satisfied with Lord Starnes’s explanation than Mairelon had been—it left too many things unexplained. How could Mannering have so suddenly become a wizard? Who was the foreign wizard who had left those spells in English on Mannering’s desk? And if Mannering was working with a foreigner, which of them had ensorcelled Ma Yanger and Mairelon? And why had they bothered? There seemed to be no connection between the spells and the supposed fortune that Lord Starnes was so eager to obtain, though it was certainly plausible that Mannering would be more than a little interested in the money.

On top of Lord Starnes and Mannering, Kim was concerned about Mairelon. He was taking the loss of his magic even harder than she’d
realized, if he’d started drinking nights in the library. But the most disturbing thing of all, to which she kept returning like a tongue probing a sore tooth, was the realization that she had fallen in love with her guardian.

When had it happened? She wasn’t quite sure. At their first meeting, she had feared his magic, but that had not lasted more than fifteen or twenty minutes. The often-exasperated fondness that had replaced the fear wasn’t love. Nor was the gratitude she felt because he had taken her out of the precarious street life that was all she had known until then, nor the also-often-exasperated respect that she had learned for him as a teacher, nor the equally exasperated friendship that surfaced when they were poking around some problem together. Exasperation, in fact, seemed to be a keynote of her feelings toward Mairelon. Was that how you fell in love with someone, then—by getting exasperated with him?