“Don’t tell me you walked all the way here from the station,” cut in Edwin.
“No! Win, it’s the most amazing joke!” said Belinda. “The dear thing arrived at the station with a packed bag and simply asked around the shopkeepers until she found someone who would bring her here in a pony-trap.”
“Asked and asked and asked,” muttered Robin. One of Maud’s dimples peeked out unrepentantly. “If you’re not here to tell me about the untimely death of Great-Aunt Agatha’s vase, then why did you need to come on such an adventure?” he asked, though it was a weak question. With Maud, the adventure itself was the point.
“You think I don’t know when you’re hiding?” Maud demanded. “I told you I wanted to go to university, Gunning’s been calling every day to press you for decisions on the estate, and you make weak noises for two days and then run off to the country on some excuse about work? And it’s ever so dull, at home, without you—and with Mother and Father gone.”
Her eyes were almost artfully wide and pleading. Robin dearly wished that the mere prospect of believing him to be a member of the secret service would be enough to dissuade his younger sister from rushing headlong into the unknown. He also didn’t believe for a minute that she’d run here only to seek comfort, though it clearly held water as an excuse with the others, who’d see only an impulsive young girl in mourning clothes. Dull was a very carefully chosen truth.
“And now,” Maud went on, voice rising, “I find out you’ve been keeping some kind of magic from me?”
“Ah,” said Robin, who had been trying and miserably failing to come up with a way to ask whether the household had been playing at normal since Maud’s invasion. That ship had clearly sailed in their absence. Maud looked far more excited than scared, at least.
Behind his shoulder, Edwin gave a pained sigh. “After all that grief about unbusheling,” he said grimly. “I am going to murder Adelaide Morrissey.”
Robin, who rather thought he recognised a punishment for tipping-in-the-midden when he saw one, said nothing.
“Why don’t you sit down, old chap?” said Charlie, catching Robin’s eye. “We were going to have some tea and sandwiches, take the edge off before lunch.”
They sat. A trolley full of food was brought into the parlour, and Billy demonstrated an illusion-spell for Maud. Her fingers were still, in the easiness of being one person’s focus; and a handsome young man’s, at that. She was full of questions, which Billy tried to answer and Charlie ended up answering instead. She rolled her eyes at learning that women were in general not expected to practice magic seriously, and it was only recently that some female magicians had begun to insist on studying it to the same extent as the males. Charlie’s tone indicated that such females were being humoured, but nobody expected much of them.
“Of course,” Maud said, with a pointed look at Robin.
“Here, Maud, you must try this lemonade,” said Belinda, reaching for a metal jug with a stylised etch of flowers. “It’s a specialty of Cook’s. The secret is the mint from our own gardens.”
Maud took the proffered cup with a smile, but didn’t have a chance to voice her thanks. She made a noise of stifled surprise when Edwin stepped in and took the cup from her hand, setting it back on the tray.
“It’s a prank,” he said.
“Come off it, Edwin, don’t be sentimental,” said Charlie.
“They serve it unsweetened, Miss Blyth, just to watch you spit it out.” Edwin stared hard at his sister. Belinda stared back at him, and then her face melted into a got-me kind of smile.
“A bit of fun,” she said.
“Quite,” said Edwin. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Robin and I were stranded at Sutton Cottage last night without a change of clothes, and we’re in desperate need of fresh shirts. And I’m sure he and his sister would appreciate some time alone, so that he can . . . explain things. Gently.”
Somewhat to Robin’s surprise, Maud didn’t argue with this. She cast a longing look at the sandwiches, but allowed Robin’s hand at her elbow, steering her out of the room. They’d almost crossed the threshold, Edwin once again close at Robin’s shoulder, when Belinda spoke behind them. She didn’t raise her voice. Robin wasn’t even sure he was meant to hear it.
“It’s kinder than the alternative, Win,” she said. “You know it is.”
“Did you bring luggage, Miss Blyth?” said Edwin, ignoring his own sister.
“Yes,” said Maud. “The housekeeper took me up to a room with birds and strawberries on the walls.”
“Come with us, for now.” Edwin led them up the main stairs to the corridor containing the willow rooms. Robin pulled to a halt before any doors could be opened. Maud had dug her fingers into his arm.
She said, “You’ve been very rude and not properly introduced me, Robin, but I’m assuming this is Mr. Edwin Courcey?”
Frankly, it was a miracle anything about the preceding half hour had shown any resemblance to the normal proceedings of polite society. Robin managed, “Um. Yes, that’s right.”
“Good.” Maud dug into a deep pocket of her skirt and pulled out a folded letter, which she handed to Edwin. “Miss Morrissey said it was for the both of you, but she wrote Mr. Courcey’s name on it, so I suppose he gets first look.”
Edwin broke the seal and unfolded the note. Some of the colour left his face as he read. He raised his eyes to Robin, and Robin again, again, wanted to touch him; wished to offer comfort, wished they’d had more than a night, wished he could bring his mind to focus on what was clearly a potentially serious matter while his body murmured memories of the taste of Edwin’s skin.
“State secrets?” Maud asked, not budging an inch.
“No, Maudie. But secrets related to my job. I need to talk to Mr. Courcey. I’ll tell you the parts of it you can know, I promise.”
She made a small face, but stepped into the willow room when Robin opened the door, and didn’t protest when he closed it. He was almost certain she wasn’t going to press her ear to the door—they trusted each other more than that—but he let Edwin beckon him a little farther down the corridor anyway.
“Looks like she’d have swallowed it if you said state secrets,” said Edwin.
“I don’t lie to the people I care about,” said Robin. “What is it?”
“Reggie’s dead.” Edwin’s hand tightened on the letter. The paper made a small, dry sound. “They found his body two days ago.”
It wasn’t a surprise, after everything. Robin said “I’m sorry” anyway. Edwin didn’t meet his eyes, but gave him the letter. Robin read quickly. “Handed over to the Coopers? What does that mean?”
“Investigative branch of the Assembly,” said Edwin. “Perhaps the rest of the bloody Gatlings did decide to take his disappearance seriously. The Coopers will make sure the usual police don’t push too far, and they’ll pick up the case themselves, if there’s something to pick up.”
Edwin didn’t sound encouraged by this, nor did he suggest they could return to London and shove this entire mess into the hands of these magical police, who were surely far more qualified. Of course. Robin was still having visions, and Edwin was trying to keep him out of their sight for as long as possible.
Honestly, Robin gave it another two days before he found himself demanding that they take the risk if there was the slightest chance these Coopers could get the curse off him. But he trusted Edwin’s judgement.
The rest of Miss Morrissey’s note was a dry assurance that if they were making headway then they might as well stay out of London, as there was no pressing need for Robin’s presence. The PM had left for Cardiff and wouldn’t be back within the week, so wouldn’t be needing his usual briefing.
A few more days in the library, with an extra set of books this time. It might make the difference to Edwin’s attempts. Though now Robin had his sister to worry about on top of everything else.