“How long have you been meeting him in secret?”
Jessamine set her mouth, but her lips were trembling. A moment later a torrent of words burst from her mouth. Her eyes darted round in shock as if she could not believe she was speaking. “He sent me a message only a few days after Mortmain invaded the Institute. He apologized for his behavior toward me. He said he was grateful for my nursing of him and that he had not been able to forget my graciousness or my beauty. I—I wanted to ignore him. But a second letter came, and a third. . . . I agreed to meet him. I left the Institute in the middle of the night and we met in Hyde Park. He kissed me—”
“Enough of that,” said Charlotte. “How long did it take him to convince you to spy on us?”
“He said that he was only working for Mortmain until he could put together enough of a fortune to live comfortably. I said we could live together on my fortune, but he wouldn’t have it. It had to be his money. He said he would not live off his wife. Is that not noble?”
“So by this point he had already proposed?”
“He proposed the second time we met.” Jessamine sounded breathy. “He said he knew there would never be another woman for him. And he promised that once he had enough money, I would have just the life I had always wanted, that we would never worry about money, and that there would be ch-children.” She sniffled.
“Oh, Jessamine.” Charlotte sounded almost sad.
Jessamine flushed. “It was true! He loved me! He has more than proved it. We are married! It was done most properly in a church with a minister —”
“Probably a deconsecrated church and some flunky dressed to look like a minister,” said Charlotte. “What do you know of mundane weddings, Jessie? How would you know what a proper wedding was? I give you my word that Nathaniel Gray does not consider you his wife.”
“He does, he does, he does!” Jessamine shrieked, and tried to pul away from the Sword. It stuck to her hands as if it had been nailed there. Her wails went up an octave. “I am Jessamine Gray!”
“You are a traitor to the Clave. What else did you tel Nathaniel?”
“Everything,” Jessamine gasped. “Where you were looking for Mortmain, which Downworlders you had contacted in your attempt to find him. That was why he was never anywhere you searched. I warned him about the trip to York. That is why he sent the automatons to Wil ’s family’s home.
Mortmain wanted to terrify you into ceasing the search. He considers you al pestilential annoyances. But he is not afraid of you.” Her chest was heaving up and down. “He wil win out over you al . He knows it. So do I.”
Charlotte leaned forward, her hands on her hips. “But he did not succeed in terrifying us into ceasing the search,” she said. “The automatons he sent tried to snatch Tessa but failed—”
“They weren’t sent to try to snatch Tessa. Oh, he stil plans to take her, but not like that, not yet. His plan is close to realization, and that is when he wil move to take the Institute, to take Tessa—”
“How close is he? Has he managed to open the Pyxis?” Charlotte snapped.
“I—I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“So you told Nate everything and he told you nothing. What of Benedict? Why has he agreed to work hand in glove with Mortmain? I always knew he was an unpleasant man, but it seems unlike him to betray the Clave.”
Jessamine shook her head. She was sweating, her fair hair stuck to her temples. “Mortmain is holding something over him, something he wants. I don’t know what it is. But he wil do anything to get it.”
“Including handing me over to Mortmain,” said Tessa. Charlotte looked at her in surprise when she spoke, and seemed about to interrupt her, but Tessa hurtled on. “What is this about having me falsely accused of possessing articles of dark magic? How was that to be accomplished?”
“The Book of the White,” Jessamine gasped. “I—took it from the locked case in the library. Hid it in your room while you were out.”
“Where in my room?”
“Loose floorboard—near the fireplace.” Jessamine’s pupils were enormous. “Charlotte . . . please . . .”
But Charlotte was relentless. “Where is Mortmain? Has he spoken to Nate of his plans for the Pyxis, for his automatons?”
“I—” Jessamine took a shuddering gasp. Her face was dark red. “I can’t—”
“Nate wouldn’t have told her,” said Tessa. “He would have known she might have been caught, and he would have thought she’d crack under torture and spil everything. He would.”
Jessamine gave her a venomous look. “He hates you, you know,” she said. “He says that al his life you looked down on him, you and your aunt with your sil y provincial morality, judging him for everything he did. Always tel ing him what to do, never wanting him to get ahead. Do you know what he cal s you? He—”