The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele Book 1) (19 page)

"For church, of course," Miss Glass said. She had joined us for breakfast today, whereas she usually ate alone in her room. She seemed particularly spritely and alert. Perhaps she enjoyed church—or simply getting out of the house. I ought to walk with her later, if Mr. Glass didn't need me.

"Church? It's Sunday already?" Mr. Glass pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

"You will go, won't you, Matthew?"

"No, he won't," Willie said. "He doesn't have the time."

"I beg your pardon, young lady." Miss Glass's lips pursed so tight they went white. "Are you a heathen?"

"I'm as godly as you, and I pray as regular as anyone.
I'll
go, but Matt's too busy."

"Nobody is too busy to worship."

"Enough," Mr. Glass said on a long sigh. "Do you wish to attend church this morning, Miss Steele?"

"Me?"

"I need you to continue our search today, but if you prefer to attend the service…"

Mr. Dorchester had hinted that he might attend church to see me, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to see him. Miss Glass may have been correct and he may be interested in being more than a friend. I wasn't prepared to take that path. "Yet," a little voice in my head said.

"Most watchmakers will be in church too, so I don't think we'll have much luck if we pay calls this morning."

Willie clicked her tongue and huffed out a breath. "We're running out of time," she muttered to the fried eggs on her plate.

Mr. Glass folded his hand over hers. "It'll be an hour and a half, at the most. And Miss Steele is correct. No one will be home this morning."

"I have news," I said. "I went to the Watchmakers' Guild meeting last night and—"

"You did
what
?" Mr. Glass's bellow made his aunt jump, and every one else look at him warily. "Why did you go without me?"

"You weren't here. I had planned—"

"Then you should not have gone at all. Going alone was dangerous, considering what Abercrombie tried to do."

I swallowed. "I was aware of that, but after due consideration, I decided he was no longer going to follow up on his accusation. Thanks to whatever it was you said—or did—to him."

He grunted. "Nevertheless, it was a risk you shouldn't have taken."

"It was a risk that paid off. I learned that the members in attendance don't know of any watchmakers who traveled overseas five years ago. That's twenty we no longer need to visit. I recognized them all and wrote their names down as soon as I returned home."

"Damn good work, India," Willie said, with more admiration in her voice than I'd ever heard when she addressed me.

Both Duke and Cyclops praised me too. Miss Glass seemed to have fallen into one of her dazes, and Mr. Glass continued to scowl at me but a little more softly.

"Not only that," I went on, "but Mr. Abercrombie informed me that he knows Mirth and believes he's not the man you seek."

"How so?"

"Mirth traveled to Prussia, not America, in search of his wayward daughter. He returned a broken man without her and had no interest in his shop anymore."

"He could be lying."

"Why would he lie?"

His gaze slid away.

"Because he doesn't like you," Duke said with a shrug.

Cyclops shifted in his seat and Duke winced then glared at him. I suspected his friend had just kicked him under the table.

"Yes," I said, deciding to tackle the issue head on. "But
why
doesn't he like me?"

"Because you're a woman," Willie said quickly. "You're cleverer than he is and you challenge the rules he lives by. You threaten the foundations of the patriarchal system he profits from."

"Patri-what?" Duke asked, screwing up his face. "Willie, you going all educated on me?"

Cyclops grinned. "She's been hiding her light from you, Duke."

"She's been hiding something. Not sure it's a light though."

"And I'm not sure that explains why Mr. Abercrombie dislikes me so intensely," I said. "But I can see that no one wishes to tell me." I pushed back my chair and made my exit. I didn't turn around, even though I could feel their gazes boring into me.

* * *

I
nodded
at Mr. Dorchester when I spotted him sitting at the back of Grosvenor Chapel as we walked past. He smiled.

"Who's that?" Mr. Glass whispered.

"An acquaintance we met at the gambling house," I said as we took our seats three pews in front of Mr. Dorchester.

Mr. Glass looked over his shoulder and nodded a greeting then turned back to me. "Was he involved in the incident that caused Willie to draw her Colt?"

"He'd left by then."

I didn't speak to Mr. Glass again until after the service as we made our way out. As we exited the narthex, he suddenly caught my elbow and steered me to the right. It wasn't until we drew clear of the crowd of parishioners that I saw Mr. Dorchester on the left, waiting.

He spotted me and waved. I waved back. "One moment," I said to Mr. Glass. Mr. Dorchester had come to Grosvenor Chapel specifically to see me. The least I could do was exchange a few pleasantries with him. It would be rude not to.

I pulled away from Mr. Glass and met Mr. Dorchester as he approached. "Good morning," I said, smiling.

"Good morning, Miss Steele." He doffed his hat. "It's lovely to see you again. I'm glad I came." His gaze rose. He nodded in greeting.

I turned to see Mr. Glass standing behind me, all dark scowl and hard features. I made the introductions.

"You play poker?" Mr. Glass asked.

"Not at all," Mr. Dorchester said on a laugh. "I went to learn what it was all about, but decided the game is not for me. It was an, er, interesting night though. Wasn't it, Miss Steele?" His cheerful manner had me wondering if he was referring to something I'd not been aware of. As far as I was concerned, nothing cheery happened that night.

Mr. Dorchester's gaze flicked from my face to that of Mr. Glass behind me. He cleared his throat more than once, and the silence stretched. It seemed rude to leave immediately, so I searched for something to say.

"It looks like being a pleasant afternoon," I began.

Mr. Dorchester smiled. "It does. Perfect for a walk around Hyde Park. Miss Steele, may I be so bold as to invite you to join me?"

I opened and shut my mouth without words coming out. Then suddenly Mr. Glass was right at my back, so close that I could feel his warmth. Fortunately he didn't answer for me. If he had, I would have been quite cross.

"I'm afraid I'm busy all afternoon," I told Mr. Dorchester. "But thank you for the invitation. It's appreciated."

He lifted his brows, not at me, but at Mr. Glass. His jaw hardened. "I see." He touched the brim of his hat. "Good day, Miss Steele. Mr. Glass." He strode off.

Mr. Glass came up beside me and offered me his elbow. "Ready?"

I hesitated. Now that the moment had arrived, I wasn't sure if leaving with him was a wise idea. We would be alone in the carriage the entire afternoon. There would be no opportunity to go to the police and tell them my suspicions about him being the Dark Rider.

And there would be no opportunity to escape.

Duke, Willie and Miss Glass decided to walk back to the house, while Cyclops climbed onto the driver's seat. He pulled his crumpled map out and I pointed to the areas we would cover. Mr. Glass held the door open for me then shut it as he sat opposite. As the carriage lurched onward, he scanned the street out the window.

"Every time we go out, your nose is glued to the window," I said. "Are you expecting the intruder to follow us?"

I thought he wouldn't answer, or would dismiss me with a story, but he sat back with a resigned sigh. "I've had word that someone I know is looking for me."

The sheriff. I nodded quickly, but could no longer meet his gaze. Why had I not gone to the police before now, particularly after learning about the lawman who'd followed Matt here? I was a bloody fool, that's why.

"That fellow, Dorchester," he said stiffly. "What interest does he have in you?"

The question caught me off guard but not as much as his earnest, piercing stare. There wasn't a hint of tiredness in it now as he focused on me. "I know you Americans are bolder than we English, but I think even you know that your question is overstepping the boundaries of our relationship." I sounded like a prim schoolmistress, and yet I couldn't help my clipped tone. "His interest in me is none of your affair."

My admonishment had no effect on him. His gaze didn't waver, his jaw didn't soften. "It
is
my affair."

"Why?"

Finally, he blinked. He looked away and rubbed his chin. "What if he's the intruder?"

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Clearly you need more sleep if that's the direction your mind is wandering."

"I am simply worried about your welfare."

"Don't be. I can take care of myself where the likes of Mr. Dorchester are concerned. He's quite harmless."

His gaze snapped back to mine. "How can you be sure?"

"He's been very nice to me. He saved me from a brute the other night, if you must know. That's not the action of someone intent on doing me harm. Quite the opposite."

"What do you mean, he saved you?"

I waved his question off. "It no longer matters. Mr. Dorchester is a good man, and I think he likes me. That's all. Or are you telling me that I'm not the sort of woman who would interest a gentleman?"

"That is not what I'm saying at all," he ground out through a rigid jaw.

"Then what are you saying?"

He planted his hands on his knees and leaned forward. "I'm saying that not everyone is as they seem. You hardly know him."

My blood turned to ice in my veins. A foggy sensation descended over me, and I felt somewhat disembodied, like I wasn't in control of my mind any longer. "I hardly know
you
, either." My voice sounded hard, sharp. "And the facts I do know frighten me. Yet you dare to call
him
the untrustworthy one."

He straightened. "What facts?"

"The fact that your mother's family are outlaws. The fact that a sheriff is chasing you. The fact that you arrived in England at the same time as the Dark Rider." Each sentence was like a punch, pushing him a little further toward the back of the seat. "The fact that your special watch temporarily reinvigorates you by injecting a…substance into your veins that makes them glow."

His hands gripped the seat edge on either side of him. The knuckles turned white. "You are an observant woman."

I pressed a hand to my stomach and waited for him to refute my facts. He did not. Not even one. He turned to look out the window and declined to speak to me for the remainder of the journey.

We ended our search well before the sun set. Mr. Glass was too tired to continue, despite using his watch to re-energize himself a little after we paused for lunch at an inn in Hampstead. He pretended he needed to speak to Cyclops in the yard, but I knew he'd gone to use his watch in private. Why else would he close the carriage curtains?

We had no success. Some of the watchmakers we visited weren't home, and those that were treated us with reservation. We were not offered tea, and children and wives were ordered to leave our presence. One watchmaker shut the door upon spying me approaching. I remained in the carriage after that and allowed Mr. Glass to do all the talking.

We returned to the house and he went immediately to his rooms. Willie and Duke must have noticed the carriage roll up. They greeted us at the door, hope lifting their faces. Their expressions soon fell when they saw Mr. Glass's stooped shoulders and heavy eyelids. He didn't exchange a single word with them and headed straight for the stairs. Every step seemed to take enormous effort, as if he could barely put one foot in front of the other. We watched him until he disappeared.

"It's hopeless, isn't it?" Willie looked to Duke, tears in her eyes.

"There's always hope." He turned to look at me and frowned. I waited, but he said nothing, he simply looked.

"Do you think…?" Willie asked him.

"I don't know," he said.

"Ask her."

"Ask me what?" I looked from one to the other, but it was as if I wasn't there anymore. Unspoken words seemed to pass between them, and I hadn't a clue as to their nature. I cleared my throat.

"He'll be furious if we do," Duke cautioned.

"Only if she doesn't know," Willie said. "If she does know, then no harm done. In fact, if she does know then it could change everything. She could cure him."

"What?" I blurted out, half laughing.

"But if she does know, wouldn't she have said something already?" Duke said. "That's what he says."

I stamped my hands on my hips. "Will you tell me what you're talking about!"

"I'm asking her," Willie declared.

Duke clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I don't think—"

"India, are you magical?"

M
agical
? Had Willie lost her mind? Duke too?

"I don't know what stories your government tells you in America, but magic doesn't exist," I said. "Not here and not there." I laughed and waited for them to join in. They didn't. "It's the stuff of children's fantasies," I added, sobering.

The hope glinting in their eyes vanished. Willie looked as if she were trying not to cry. "Do you, or do you not, possess magic?" she said again in a thin, strained voice.

"Going by her shocked expression, she doesn't." Duke sighed. "Forget we said anything, Miss Steele. And don't tell Mr. Glass about this discussion. He'd have our heads."

"But Matt said it's warmer when she's near, like it's responding to her."

She believed his watch reacted to my presence too? And I'd thought Miss Glass was the mad one.

"Don't," Duke warned. "Enough now. He was mistaken."

"He's never mistaken." Willie's face crumpled. "About anything. Ever." She turned and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.

I stared after her. I didn't know for how long. Time slowed. The air thickened. My breaths sounded labored and my blood felt sluggish.

Magic.

The word rattled around in my head. I grappled for some clear thoughts, but they were like ribbons tossed by the breeze. I would grasp the end of one, only to have it ripped from my fingers before I could gather it all.

The hand on my arm brought me out of my trance. "Miss Steele?" Duke said gently. "Are you all right?"

I nodded numbly. "Duke…what did Willie mean when she asked about Mr. Glass's watch responding to me?"

"So you've felt it?" His fingers tightened. "It does speak to you?"

"No. So…what is it? How does it work? Why does it glow like that and make his veins glow too?"

If he said magic, then I'd…what? Pack my things and leave?

"So you've seen it," he said. "You've seen it work on him."

I nodded. "But how does that watch help Mr. Glass feel better? I don't understand."

"It doesn't," he said heavily. "That's the problem. It used to, and now it's broken."

"Broken?"

"It used to make him feel better for longer. He could go days without needing to use it again. Now it's only a few hours."

"I see."

"Do you?"

I shook my head.

He sighed. "Thought not." He glanced up the staircase. "Best forget this conversation ever happened, Miss Steele. Best not mention it to Matt. He won't like that we told you about magic."

"Why not?" Because he didn't want me to know he was as mad as them? As mad as his aunt?

"Because it's a secret."

"From me?"

"From everyone."

* * *

I
t was
clear from the expressions at the breakfast table that they held little hope of finding the watchmaker on the final day of the search. Even Miss Glass seemed forlorn, and she wasn't aware of what was at stake. Perhaps she was simply anxious because she knew her nephew was leaving the following day; although she continued to deny it. When she caught Duke and Cyclops discussing departure plans, she scolded them for wasting time on "nonsense."

As we were about to leave, Willie signaled me to speak with her in private. If she started spouting about magic again, I would walk away. I refused to be taken for a fool. After spending many hours lying in bed thinking about what she and Duke had said, I'd managed to see through the veils they'd been trying to cast over my eyes. What I saw was just as worrying, however, as Mr. Glass being the Dark Rider.

He must be an opium addict. Or if not opium, some other potent substance that made his veins glow. The watch was a clever device that hid the substance in liquid form. It likely also hid a tiny syringe that he used to inject the liquid into himself as he held the watch in his palm. Whether it was also a functioning timepiece remained to be seen.

Clearly the device had stopped working properly and so he needed the original maker to fix it. I'd never seen such a watch before, so it most likely required special care. I hadn't yet worked out why he couldn't inject the substance into himself without using the watch, but there must be a reason.

I did not plan to tell any of them that I knew their secret.

I did plan on telling the police that I'd found the Dark Rider. Just as soon as I could get away.

"You must do your absolute best to find the watchmaker today," Willie told me. She took my hands and wrung them so hard I had to ask her to let go. "You know how important this is. You
know
."

I didn't tell her that it was almost hopeless. Or that the police would be stopping them from leaving tomorrow.

Perhaps.

Oh, I didn't know what to do! Perhaps I ought to remain silent. No one had harmed me. Indeed, Mr. Glass had saved me from Abercrombie and the thugs and seen that I was well cared for. To betray his trust would be cruel. Besides, if they left tomorrow, they would no longer be England's problem. As far as I could see, they'd done nothing illegal here anyway.

He tried to engage me in conversation in the carriage, but I wasn't keen to talk. I was in turmoil. Not only about telling the police but also about his addiction. Should I try to help him? Could it explain his outlaw ways? If he was desperate for opium and couldn't afford it, then he would need to steal to pay for it. Perhaps if his addiction went away, there would be no need for criminal activity.

"You're very quiet today," he said.

"Am I?"

He smiled crookedly. "Thinking about how much you'll miss me when I'm gone?"

I rolled my eyes. "Thinking about where I'll live and what I'll do." Which only reminded me that I hadn't asked him for a reference yet.

I was about to when he said, "Perhaps we'll need to postpone our journey. Even if we do find the watchmaker, there's no need to hurry back. I like it here. London intrigues me. And, to be honest, there's not much to keep me in America."

"Your friends and Willie will be disappointed."

"They don't have to stay."

"Disappointed to leave you behind, I mean. They're very fond of you."

"And I them."

"If you stay, you will require my assistance." It wasn't a question, for I knew the answer before he spoke.

He nodded. "I would like you to help me. Would you, on the same terms?"

My gaze slid to the window. "I don't know. I…I don't know what to think anymore. About anything."

He leaned forward and rested his hand on mine. It was probably meant to be a reassuring gesture, but it made my heart skip to a more erratic beat. "I'm sorry I'm not the easiest of men at times."

I blinked at him. He did not remove his hand, nor did I want him to. "You have nothing to apologize for." Not to me. He'd been the perfect gentleman at all times. Hot tears rushed to my eyes and I had to once again look out the window so he couldn't see.

His thumb stroked mine, gentle and insistent. My breath hitched at the intimacy of it. I shouldn't want him to touch me like that. Not this…outlaw, this addict. But I couldn't bring myself to tell him to stop. I simply sat there and allowed him to do it.

"India," he said, his voice low and rough. "May I call you that?"

I nodded.

He let me go, but only to touch my chin and gently force me to look at him. "Then you must call me Matt or Matthew from now on."

I nodded again.

"I know we're not friends," he said. "Not really. But…I feel a connection to you, and I hope you feel the same with me."

I sucked on the inside of my cheek. I nodded again, unable to speak, and not daring to disagree. Not wanting to.

"Good. Then…I need to say something to you." He let my chin go and rested his hand on his knee. His lowered his head and shook it slightly. After a moment, he looked up. "Why is a remarkable woman like you not married?"

That wasn't what he wanted to say. For starters, it had been a question and yet he'd said he wanted to
say
something to me. So what had been on his mind? Was he going to tell me a magical watch was keeping him alive? That he was addicted to opium? Or that he was an outlaw?

The carriage slowed and he leaned back. He wasn't even interested in my answer.

The first watchmaker on the list was a Mr. Ingham, a short, round man with a bald head and a pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He took one look at me and inched away from the counter. I stood to one side as Mr. Glass—Matt—spoke to him about Chronos.

As Mr. Ingham told him he didn't know anyone fitting that description, my gaze fell on the newspaper spread out on the counter nearby. The main article was about the Dark Rider again; the police believed he was here in London, based on information received from their American counterparts.

As Matt turned to go, Mr. Ingham glanced at me then down at the paper and up at me again. He scooped it up. "Good day, Miss Steele."

"Good day, Mr. Ingham," I said and followed Matt out of the shop.

We accomplished a great deal, visiting many shops and only stopping for a quick bite to eat and for Matt to use his watch while I powdered my nose in a Wandsworth inn. We did not have any luck, however, and headed back to Mayfair in a thoughtfully grim mood.

"That's all the watchmakers I know in the city," I said. "There are others, of course, but I've never met them. Even if you do remain in London to continue your search, you don't require my services anymore. I can't help you."

He'd closed his eyes upon settling in the carriage, and now he raised his eyelids slowly, half way. The effect lent him a lazy, dissolute air. "I beg to differ. You're familiar with London. I'll need a guide."

"Cyclops knows where we haven't been. He can drive you without my guidance."

He closed his eyes again and I thought he'd fallen asleep, when his eyes suddenly reopened. He grinned. It was so unexpected that I couldn't help smiling back at seeing the change in him. "I've got it! You can be my aunt's companion."

"Me? A lady's companion?" I snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Why not? You're honest." He held up a finger. "Easy to get along with." Another finger rose. "Kind." He lifted a third. "And my aunt likes you. There. It's settled. You'll live with her."

"Where? At your house, or is she moving back to Lord Rycroft's after you've gone?"

He rubbed his forehead. "It looks like I'll be staying. I want you both to live with me."

I didn't say anything, and he didn't seem to require an answer. He closed his eyes again and tipped his head back. After a moment, his head tilted to the side and his breathing became even. He'd fallen asleep.

I had to shake him awake when we arrived back at the house. He didn't look at all refreshed; rather, he looked wearier than ever.

"Why didn't you use your watch again?" I asked before I realized that I'd just told him I knew what he used it for.

He eyed me closely and my heart stopped. I swallowed. Would he hate me for knowing about his addiction?

He didn't answer me, but got out and unfolded the step for me. I took his offered hand and climbed down. He did not let me go when my feet hit the pavement but tightened his grip.

"Matthew." I didn't know why I said his name. If I'd planned on asking or saying something, it immediately flew from my mind when he drew me closer.

"Yes?" he murmured.

His small finger hooked mine. We stood as close as my skirts would allow, his face only inches above me. He looked exhausted, and yet he was still so handsome. His illness didn't lessen that.

"You should go inside to rest," I said, stepping back.

He didn't let go of my finger. "India—"

"She's right," Cyclops called down from the driver's seat. "Go inside, Matt. Rest."

Matt turned his frosty glare onto his friend but let me go. As Cyclops drove the carriage off, I headed up the steps. Willie opened the door, but the hope in her eyes soon vanished.

"You look awful," she said. "You should rest."

"I know," he snapped.

Willie's chin wobbled.

Matt sighed and drew her into a hug. He kissed her forehead. "Sorry. I'm going up now."

"I'll leave some supper on your desk," she said, as he headed to the staircase with plodding footsteps.

Duke and Miss Glass emerged from the dining room. Embroidery thread looped around Duke’s hands and connected to the spool Miss Glass held. At my raised brows, he said, "Tangles," with a shrug.

Someone knocked on the door, and Willie opened it. A grizzly looking man in a brown coat and skewed mustard colored tie stood on the stoop. No less than five police constables, dressed in their distinctive blue uniform and helmet, squeezed onto the porch behind him.

"Is Mr. Matthew Glass here?" demanded the man in front.

"Who's asking?" Willie said, hands on hips.

"Detective Inspector Nunce, Scotland Yard."

"There's no one here by—"

"I'm Matthew Glass," Matt said, placing a hand on Willie's shoulder.

She shoved him away. "Matt! You
know
why they're here."

"Willie, it's all right."

Nunce stepped inside without being invited. His constables followed him like a tail. "Mr. Glass, you're under arrest."