His Lordship Possessed (9 page)

the attacks on his wife. Something happened last night

that made him terrifi ed of you.”

“What?” I thought back over the dinner. “I know I

spoke out of turn a few times, but he mostly ignored

me. Th e only time he became really agitated was when I

challenged him.”

“Lady Walsh is a pawn in a much larger game.”

He felt me shivering and pulled me closer, lifting one

side of the blanket over him in order to share his body

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heat. “When you spoke of the wound paste, he reacted

strangely. He stared at you for several moments.”

I remembered that look. “As if he were seeing me for

the fi rst time. But that old trick isn’t anything important.

Other than it’s being used to drive his wife mad.”

“I think it’s something else.” He looked out as the

coach came to a halt. “Th e snow is knee-deep. I’ll have

to carry you.”

I pushed off the blanket. “Should I struggle again for

the benefi t of the neighbors?”

“I have no neighbors.”

I saw why when he helped me out. “Dredmore, this is

Feathersound.”

“It is.” He swung me up into his arms.

I linked my hands behind his neck. “Th e lord mayor

allows you to make use of his private residence?”

“His former private residence.” He carried me up the

steps and through the door Connell had unlocked and

held open. “He signed the deed over to me for services

rendered.”

“Does the governor know about this?” I frowned as

I saw his driver lighting a candle to illuminate the dark

hall. “No servants?”

“Offi cially the house has been closed for two years.”

He set me down and instructed Connell to light the

fi res before taking my hand. “Unoffi cially, it’s haunted.

Legally, it’s mine.”

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Dredmore guided me into Feathersound’s library, which

appeared to be as large as my entire fl at. Every wall had

been fi tted with shelves from fl oor to ceiling, save the

center of one where space had been made for a massive

cherrywood secretary. “You cheated the mayor out of his

home by telling him it was haunted?”

“No. I saved his life from what he believed was the

vengeful spirit of his former business partner.” He went to

the hearth and lit the kindling under a large stack of split seasoned oak. “Th e specter turned out to be the gifted

and rather resourceful aide of the mayor’s opponent, who

had hoped to frighten away his competition before the

election.”

“But you didn’t tell the mayor that,” I guessed.

“After I assured His Honor that I had dispelled the

spirit from the premises, I discreetly arranged for the

mayor’s opponent to withdraw from the election.” He sat

back on his heels and watched the fl ames catch. “Directly

after that, he and his aide left Rumsen.”

He hadn’t killed them, as everyone had believed. “You

blackmailed him.”

“I persuaded him to relocate to a city in the east where

he might enjoy more success in the political arena.” He

rose and brushed some melting snow from his shoulders

before regarding me. “Why are you smiling at me like

that?”

“You don’t believe in magic any more than I do.” And

now I had proof of it. “You’re an investigator like me.

You only dress it up with spells and nonsense to hide your

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methods. So how did you disguise the blade you used on

the snuff mage outside court? Was it some sort of trick,

like the way you pretended to pop through the fl oors at

Morehaven?”

“Come here, Charmian.” He removed a dust drape

from a cushiony lady’s armchair by the fi re and gestured

for me to take a seat in it. When I did, he said, “I will

answer your questions, but you must fi rst do something

for me.”

My fi rst, automatic response was to refuse, but

Dredmore had just diverted Walsh’s men from harming

Rina and her gels, and had provided safe sanctuary for

me. I owed him some cooperation, and we both knew it.

“What do you want?”

“Take off your pendant and hand it to me.”

Th e moment I did, I knew Harry would appear, but

at least Dredmore wouldn’t be able to see him. I reached

up, unfastened the catch, and held out the chain to him.

Th e moment the pendant left my fi ngers, my

grandfather’s misty form appeared. He didn’t say a

word, but lunged at Dredmore, who quickly pocketed

the pendant. As soon as he did, Harry turned

semitransparent.

“Why on earth did you do that, you silly twit?” my

grandfather shouted.

“Because I asked her to.” Dredmore looked directly at

Harry. “Hello, Ehrich.”

“You know my grandfather?” I looked from Dredmore

to Harry and back again. “Hang on. You can
see
him?”

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“It’s a trick, Charm.” Harry solidifi ed enough to cast a

shadow on the faded but still colorful Turkish rug. “He’s

only making a pretense so he can use you. You must leave

here at once.”

“You’d rather send her out to die in the snow than tell

her the truth?” Dredmore came to stand behind me, and

I saw his angry expression refl ected in the oval mirror

above the mantel. “She’s your own fl esh and blood, old

man. She deserves to know more than the bits and pieces

that you’ve been feeding her.”

“He seems to be able to see and hear you quite well,”

I advised my grandfather. Th e thought of how he had

possessed Connell at Morehaven, and the prospect of

him doing the same to Dredmore, made me gesture at a

cluster of brass-studded bronze leather armchairs. “Why

don’t we all sit down and talk about this?”

“Sit down and talk. With him?” Harry uttered a bitter

laugh. “You don’t know what spawned him, or what his

sort can do.” He looked at Dredmore for the fi rst time,

and there was pure hatred in his eyes. “But I know, boy.

I know exactly what you are.”

“Have you told her what you’ve done?” Dredmore

asked this with exquisite courtesy. “Why don’t you

explain that, Ehrich? Or are you leaving that for others

to do, just as you did in France?”

“I know he was Houdini,” I told Dredmore, and

watched the white puff of my breath fl oat from my lips.

“Why is it so cold in here now?”

“Th at is his doing.” He eyed my grandfather. “No

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more half-truths, Ehrich. Tell her who you were before

you took possession of that Crown spy. Who you were

when Harry White led his regiment into the Bréchéliant,

and what you were when you came back out.” He waited,

but Harry said nothing, and the ticking of the great clock

by the door seemed to grow very loud. “I see. She’s good

enough to torment, to use, to manipulate, but not worthy

of the truth. Fortunately for you, Charmian is now under

my protection.”

“I beg your pardon.” I stared at him. “Your
what
?”

“Your
what
?” Harry strode forward without looking,

banged into an end table, and caught it before it

toppled. When he took his hand from it he left an icy

print of his palm and fi ngers. “Your father may have

wanted recompense for being taken. Like the others,

Jack deserved it. But his battle was never yours. You

can bloody well do as you like, but you won’t drag my

granddaughter into it.”

“She’s in it to her ears.” Dredmore was sneering

now. “You had your chance to do right by her, Ehrich.

More than a thousand of them, I should think. But you

sacrifi ced her, and her mother, and her grandmother on

the altar of Queen and country and your own pathetic

schemes.”

“So now you’ll cut her throat?” Harry’s eyes took on a

strange purple glow. “I will end you fi rst, boy.”

Th e mention of murder made it high time for me to

intervene. “Whatever quarrel you two have with each

other, it’s nothing to do with me. Lucien, I can look after

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myself, so stuff your protection. Harry, I’m not interested in carrying on whatever feud you have with Dredmore or

his father.” I remembered Hedger’s strange reaction to

learning that Harry was my grandfather. “Is there anyone

who likes you?”

“His name isn’t—” that was all my grandfather got out

before Lucien stepped between us. His broad back kept

me from seeing what he did, but his back muscles shifted,

and then Harry abruptly vanished.

“What did you do?” I asked, shuffl ing back a few steps.

“I banished him back to the netherside.” Dredmore

turned to face me. “As long as you are with me, he cannot

manifest or meddle with you.”

“Harry’s never meddled.” When he would have come

closer I went round behind the chair. “You, on the other

hand, have infl icted an excessive amount of damage to my

reputation, my person, and my life.”

He didn’t like that. “How have I harmed you,

Charmian? By wanting you? By taking what you freely

off ered me? Or by trying to shield you from Walsh and

dark forces that you cannot even begin to fathom?” He

extended his arms in a helpless fashion. “Please, enlighten

me as to which it was.”

I did. “You abducted me and held me prisoner against

my will. You raced about assassinating snuff mages, never

mind that I might be blamed for the murders. Oh, and

you also agreed to kill
me
for twenty thousand pounds.”

“I took that fool’s money to give to you,” he shouted.

“It was to help you settle into a new life—”

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“After I left Toriana with you for some secluded

lovers’ nest overseas,” I tacked on. “Where I could nightly

entertain you until you tired of me? I’d rather work for

Rina.”

“You might as well.” He turned away. “I’ve tired of

you already.”

Th at stung, more than I cared to admit. “Problem

solved, then.”

I came round and sat in the armchair. “Before I’m

forced to leave the country and fl ee for my life, perhaps

you should tell me about this thing between you and

Harry. Start with how you’re able to see his specter,

and exactly how you sent him off .” I was particularly

interested in the latter so that I might do the same if

Harry became troublesome.

Dredmore went to the overly large secretary and

opened the upper cabinet, sliding aside a panel. “He’s not

a specter. He’s a manifesting spirit.”

“Th ere’s a diff erence?” I frowned as he shifted and

I saw the rows of switches that the panel had hidden.

“What’s that for?”

Dredmore put his thumb beneath one switch and

glanced back at me. “You.” He fl ipped the switch.

Two velvet-covered bars shot out from the ends of

my chair’s arms, bending at hidden joints and locking

together at the ends. Before I could get to my feet,

they retracted, shoving me back against the cushions. A

smaller pair of bars swung out beneath my skirts and did

the same, trapping my ankles in place. When I pushed at

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the bars locked across my waist, two cuff s popped out of

them and snapped round my wrists.

“Don’t bother struggling,” Dredmore told me. “You

haven’t the strength.”

I tried but I couldn’t budge the chair’s automatic

manacles. I’d never heard of such mech, but Dredmore

could aff ord things other mortals could only have

nightmares about.

I looked up at him. “When you’re fi nished,” I said

pleasantly, “you’d better plan to sleep with one eye open

for the rest of your bleeding life.”

“Th at I do already, Charmian.” He turned his

attention to the panel, and I heard doors being bolted

and window latches fastening, and then a white-painted

board descended from the ceiling.

I had nothing to do but wait and plot his slow, painful

death, but still I jumped when the table beside me

sprouted a complicated pile of gears, pulleys, and lenses.

“Is it a torture device?” I asked, wondering if he meant

to feed my hands to it.

“It is called an illuminator. Let’s hope it lives up to its

name.” He left the secretary, going round to all the lamps

and turning them down until the room became shrouded

in darkness. He pulled the chair to the other side of the

table machine, and popped a matchit.

Th e bizarre rituals confused me, but the matchit

didn’t. Surely he wouldn’t set me on fi re, trapped as I was.

“Lucien, perhaps I’ve been too harsh. You and I should