Authors: Emma Newman
“Morgan?” Will called as he entered. He saw two maids rushing across the top of the stairs, bed linen piled high in their arms. There was the sound of people, lots of them, but scattered all over the house rather than the concentrated roar created by a party.
A grey-haired woman came out of a nearby room. “Who’s Morgan?”
“Who are you?” He watched another elderly woman follow her out. “What in the Worlds is going on here? Where is my wife?”
The woman pointed down the hallway, towards Cathy’s library.
“Find Morgan,” Will told the nearest footman. “The rest of you stay nearby in case I need you.”
He passed the two ladies, who were whispering to each other, and caught sight of more people in the drawing room with them. He quickened his pace as much as he could, feeling cheated of the warm and relieved welcome he’d anticipated, the pain in his ankle adding to his irritation.
He could hear Cathy as he approached the door of her library.
“Don’t tell me what I have the right to do or not! You can’t say I’ve stolen those people unless you claim to own them, and I’m certain you can’t do that.”
“They are the property of the Agency.” The man’s voice was familiar. Will stopped and waved a hand to his footmen to stay back. He would learn more if he stayed quiet and listened.
“Quite apart from the fact it’s a foul claim to make, saying they are your property only proves that you’ve been conning us – and the entirety of Society – by charging for their wages. I know for a fact that since I established this household I’ve paid over twenty thousand pounds in wages and not a single penny of that has gone to my staff.”
“You were paying for their time and our management of–”
“Don’t try and wriggle out of this! And don’t try and tell me that the people who have chosen to work for me don’t have the right to do that, because I’ve given it to them. If you try to take them from this house, or threaten any of them, I’ll tell every single wife that runs a household in Albion that they’ve been collectively paying the Agency millions of pounds for hundreds of years to do nothing but run a slave racket.”
“You think they’ll care?” the man laughed. “All they’ll care about is whether the linen is clean and the chamber pots emptied.”
Will didn’t like the way he spoke to Cathy. There was no deference and no respect. It sounded like he was from the Agency. Was it someone he’d dealt with in the past?
“If you return the staff and patients to the asylum and accept that your staff will be replaced here, your reputation will remain intact,” the man continued. “You know the consequences should you cause any further problems for us.”
Blackmail! Will touched the door handle, about to open the door and slam the man against a wall when he heard Cathy speak.
“Your note stated, very clearly, that should I cause the slightest inconvenience or loss of income to your venerable establishment Dame Iris would be told about my past. I’m rather confused by this conversation. Why aren’t you with her now, telling her all about my terrible secret?”
Her question made Will pause. He wanted to hear the answer. As the man hesitated, Will remembered where he’d heard that voice before: the hospital, the day she was stabbed. He was the Agency man he’d bribed to keep her mundane history secret. He’d done it to protect Cathy, and the vile dog had used the information to blackmail her. He gripped the handle tighter.
“I can tell you why.” Cathy had got tired of waiting. “It’s because as soon as it’s no longer a secret, you don’t have any power over me.”
“Your–”
“In fact, keeping all of the terrible things the Agency does secret depends on my being afraid. Well, I’ve only got one thing I actually want to say to you about how you treat the staff, those prisoners you kept and the way you’ve been threatening me, something I learned in Mundanus: fuck off. Go, tell people whatever you want about me, I don’t care. The only people whose opinions matter in all of this are my husband and myself. I’m glad I lived in Mundanus and Will didn’t bat an eyelid when I told him, because he’s better than all of the men in Society put together. So screw your blackmail. I’m not afraid of you any more.”
“This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me.”
“I should hope not,” Cathy said as footsteps came closer to the door. “I expect a letter of apology. And a refund, you dishonest bastard.”
The door handle turned but was released again. Bennet had changed his mind. His steps moved away from the door again and Will readied himself to burst in at the slightest hint that he was hurting her. “You may not care about your own reputation.” Bennet sounded calm again. “It’s clear you don’t have the good sense to do so. But I imagine you care about the little girl you’re hiding here. You may be able to convince your staff that she’s your husband’s distant cousin, but I know who his cousins are and she isn’t one of them. In fact–”
Will opened the door. “Mr Bennet,” he said. “I was struggling to recall your name. I won’t forget it now.”
“Your Grace, I’m so glad you’re back, I’m afraid your wife–”
“I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say,” Will replied. He beckoned to the footmen. “This man has been threatening my wife. Remove any personal effects and take him into custody. Watch him and don’t let him speak to anyone.” As Bennet spluttered, Will suppressed the urge to punch him. He was tired and needed to recover before he could organise an appropriate punishment. Besides, he wanted the wretch to sweat a while.
“Will!” Cathy threw her arms around him once Bennet had been taken away. “What happened? You’re hurt! Nathaniel said–”
He kissed the questions out of her, holding her close until he was sure he was really home. “Where’s Carter? Why isn’t he keeping the likes of Bennet away from you?”
“He’s… running an errand for me. Where have you been?”
What to tell her? If he said anything about Margritte he’d have to admit he’d failed to protect her friend. “It’s a long and unpleasant story, but I’m home now.”
“Does Nathaniel know you’re all right? He went a bit…mental.”
“Yes, he does. Cathy, why are there strangers in the drawing room?”
“Oh… yeah, sorry about that. There’s a very good explanation for that. I wanted to tell you before you came into the house, but I had to deal with that arsehole Bennet.”
He watched her speak. There was something different about her. “I heard everything through the door. You were brilliant. Why didn’t you tell me what he was doing?”
“He cursed me the day you gave me the library. He blackmailed me to the tune of a hundred thousand pounds and then, when I started to find out what he was really up to, he threatened to tell Dame Iris about my time in Mundanus. Bastard.”
“You don’t have to worry about that weasel any more. Cathy, what in the Worlds is going on here?”
“Your Grace,” Morgan said from the doorway. “I’m dreadfully sorry to interrupt but a Mr Ferran is here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
“Who?” Will asked, irritated by the way Morgan seemed to be looking to Cathy for a response.
“I’m very pleased to see you are home, your Grace,” Morgan said to him. “I don’t believe he’s from the Agency,” he said, focusing on Cathy again.
“All right, well…” she looked at Will. “Tell him I’m sorry but he’ll have to wait.”
Will frowned. “It feels like I’m not really home,” he said, but, just as she was about to respond, Carter came in before Morgan closed the door.
“Did you find them?” Cathy asked.
“Yes, your Grace, and I followed the rest of your instructions. Both of them are comfortable.” He smiled at Will. “I’m glad to see you’re back, your Grace. We were a little worried about you.”
“I want to speak with you,” he replied. “You have specific instructions regarding the protection of my wife.”
Something about the way Carter looked at Cathy again made the anger spike.
Cathy put a hand on his arm. “We need to talk, Will. Come and sit down. We’ll get some ice for your lip, you poor thing, it looks sore.”
Carter took up his correct position, guarding the door, and that satisfied Will for now. He let himself be guided to a chair, soothed by her concern. He wanted to be cared for, he wanted to rest and have everything go back to normal, but underneath it all was the worry about what his brother would do to Margritte. Could he have done things differently and stood up to him better? Was it right of his Patroon and Iris to take the city? His head throbbed with doubts. He was so tired.
Cathy kissed his forehead once he was sitting down. The fatigue washed over him and he let himself rest whilst the ice arrived along with tea. He watched her wrap a few cubes in a linen napkin which she gathered up and then gave to him before sitting down. It made his lip sting but soon it was numbed enough to be an improvement.
“Bennet said something about an asylum,” he said as she poured tea. “And those people in the house… what have you done?”
“I rescued people from the Agency.”
He listened, aghast, as she told him what she’d discovered and what she’d done. By the end of it the fatigue had been superseded by a growing panic. Once the Agency broke the news to the Patroons, he’d be hauled in front of Sir Iris and made to explain his wife’s actions. No doubt some of the people in the place had been put there to keep them out of Society and not just because they were feminists.
“You just went and did this, without mentioning any of it to me beforehand?”
“You weren’t here.”
“I was away for a day, Cathy! Those people have been there for decades, they couldn’t wait just a few more hours?”
“No! Once I felt the curse break and the… wish kick off I knew what I had to do and I couldn’t wait a moment longer.”
Will’s anger was diverted towards Poppy. “It was Poppy’s magic influencing you to–”
“No!” She hit the arm of her chair with the flat of her hand. “This was me actually taking action and standing up to these bastards. Don’t write it off as anything else but that.”
“Cathy, you’ve set us against the entire Agency and by the sound of it, most – if not all – of the Patroons! With no forethought, no consideration of what it will mean for us and how this will affect anyone else. You want me to believe you’re that naive?”
“I want you to see that as long as things like the asylum and this organised slavery run by the Agency stay hidden, the Patroons can carry on controlling us all. We need to stand up and tell everyone in the Court about this. And we need to show them there’s another way to live – the best of both Worlds, so to speak. We need to prove that everything won’t fall apart if they pay their staff wages and treat them properly. And we need to give women rights too.”
“What about our patron? Damn it, what do you think Iris will say when he hears of this?”
She moved to the edge of her chair, hands balled into fists. “We have to stop being afraid. If enough people demand change, the Patroons and the Fae have to listen!”
“No, they don’t. They’ll Doll us or curse us or replace us altogether. How could you have been so thoughtless? I told you it was too dangerous to change anything so soon and you went ahead anyway.”
“Will, I’m sorry I’ve sprung this all on you but I don’t regret what I’ve done. This… this
feels
right. This is what I’m supposed to do with my life. If you want to replace me with some boring trophy wife then go ahead, I’ll find another way to protect these people. But I’m not going to backpedal and I’m not going to keep quiet. You said you wanted a partnership. Well, it’s not just you deciding what we can and can’t do. It’s got to be both of us sticking together and making a difference, or nothing at all. Sacrifice me to Iris and I’ll face whatever that fucker has to throw at me, same for the Patroons. I refuse to live by their rules any more.” She paused for breath, her face flushed with passion. “Or join me. It’s going to be hard and they’re going to try and stop us, but if we both commit to this, people will listen. If we can change this city then they have to pay attention.”
Will closed his eyes, struggling to think clearly amidst the anger and worry. Bennet was a key player in it all and could be the perfect scapegoat. He could keep the Iris Patroon on side by giving him the news first and he probably had a little time to work out what to say; no one in the Agency would be rushing to tell their superiors what Cathy had done.
He hated being forced into it and he resented the way Cathy had stormed ahead without consulting him, but he was convinced the wish magic was influencing her, whether she liked the thought or not. To throw her to the wolves would make him no better than his brother. He thought about what Nathaniel did to Margritte, recalling the wretched feeling of powerlessness as his brother trampled a city into submission, and he knew he wanted things to change too. Cathy had forced his hand, but perhaps that was the best thing to do to drive away his guilt.
Cathy’s eyes were brilliantly blue against the blush in her cheeks and there was power in the way she looked back at him, ready to face whatever was to come. He hadn’t wanted to marry her, but now he was glad he did. She was alive in a way that so many of the women in Society were not. He’d always wanted someone to face the rest of the world with, rather than a decoration for his arm, to dance with at balls and give him children. The wish magic might have made her reckless, but she’d been brave enough to stand up to her Patroon at her Coming of Age ceremony and forge a life alone in Mundanus before that magic had been cast.
“What’s it to be then?” she asked.
A knock on the door prevented his response. “My apologies, your Grace,” Morgan said. “But Mr Ferran said it’s urgent and that you may know him by his usual name – Sam.”
“Oh! Show him in,” Cathy said. “What’s wrong, Will? There’s no need to worry.”
Will seethed. He’d be the judge of that.
“Mr Ferran, your Grace,” Morgan announced.
“Carter!” Will called, spotting him next to the visitor, “escort this man from the house.”
“Will!” Cathy gave him a horrified look. “He’s nothing to do with the Agency, he’s a friend.”
“Oh, we’ve met,” Sam said. He looked different too. He was dressed in a superbly tailored suit for one thing. He still looked tired, but he was clean-shaven and stood taller, nothing like the saggy-shouldered man he’d found in Mundanus. He doubted his earlier dismissal of him. Perhaps this was a man Cathy could have fallen in love with.