Anger boiled inside him as he left the room. Hogarth stood just outside in the hallway. Simon shot him a quick glance, indicating that the manservant should hold his ground and keep tabs on their guest. Then Simon moved farther down the corridor and stepped into the silence of the billiard room. The arrogant expression on Grace North’s face only made matters worse. Everything about her was a lie. And he was forced to stand by and say nothing. His fists clenched as tried to wrest back his fury.
Footsteps entered the room and Kate approached him. “That was unusual. I’ve never seen you unable to play the magnanimous host before.” Her hand lifted to his chest.
Simon contemplated if he should voice all he had been long considering. Finally, he said, “I think Grace North is Ash.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “You think what?” Then she lowered her voice. “Why would you think that?”
“I’ve been doing a bit of research. It turns out that Grace North was supposedly away at a spa in Germany during the Sacred Heart Murders, and we know that to be false as we spoke with her in Sussex. She had a connection to Rowan Barnes. She had been playing a role in the magical affairs of the kingdom, by her own admission.”
“That’s thin,” Kate commented.
“I know, but what isn’t thin is that you saw one of those monstrous apes virtually wither on the vine when Grace North merely glanced at it. And her husband, the pointless prime minister, seemed to recover from near death at her touch. This is all consistent with the abilities of a necromancer such as Ash.” Simon flexed his arms to loosen stiff muscles. “And the position of Grace North fits what Nick said about Ash.”
“Then why isn’t she the queen instead of the prime minister’s wife?”
“Perhaps one was easier to arrange than the other.”
“What does it mean to us if Mrs. North is Ash?”
Simon bounced a loose billiard ball off the bumper. “On the one hand, it’s good because at least we would know where she is. On the other hand, she has distressing access to the power of the government.”
Kate leaned on the green surface of the table and caught the ball he had sent spinning. She rolled it under the open palm of her hand. “How high could it go? Do you think the prime minister knows? Or the king?”
“That wouldn’t be Ash’s style. She prefers to manipulate mere humans, and I’ve no hints that either Prime Minister North or King William is a magician of any sort.”
“Why did she come here?”
“Publicly, to get a report on the battle at Old London Bridge. Privately, I suspect, to ensure we received her gift, the blood spell. And to press home the urgency of our situation so we are more disposed to use it.”
Kate glared in the direction of the West Room. “Ash is in my house.”
Simon placed his hand over hers but neither of them was comforted by it.
Chapter 9
Malcolm placed a newly cleaned shotgun into the case and pulled out another one to inspect. It was spotless and oiled. He had heard the servants talking about the prime minister’s wife being in the house and he had no interest being civil to someone so vile. Let Simon and Kate play that game; such subterfuge suited them as magicians. Instead, Malcolm decided to pay attention to maintaining the arsenal of Hartley Hall. The weapons were a beautiful collection of shotguns, muskets, and pistols. English, German, Italian, even several Persian and Arabian. Then there were some that Sir Roland had built. Malcolm hadn’t the slightest idea how to care for them, and a few he frankly wasn’t even sure how they operated. And knowing Sir Roland, if Malcolm tried to take the contraptions apart, he might blow up the house. Those he left for Penny.
He took a gorgeous pistol with an engraved walnut stock and a beautiful forged hammer back to the main table in the library where he had laid down a cloth. He systemically began to break the gun down to its components, laying each piece carefully in front of him. Malcolm put the dismantled barrel to his eye. There were no fires allowed in this wing of the house. No candle or lamps. They had shut off the gas just to be safe since Ferghus was locked below, and it would have been dim in the late afternoon but for a strange lantern on the table. The glowing light buzzed and occasionally a tiny dark shape bounced against the inside of the frosted glass with a ticking noise.
Brownies, Malcolm thought with disgust. Hateful little faerie folk that Simon used as a source of light at Gaunt Lane. Kate and Penny had used the key for a quick jaunt to London and brought a few of the little creatures out to Hartley Hall to provide light in the absence of fire. He had to concede, they gave off a useful glow.