"How grateful was she?" Matt asked. "Did you manage to get any more information out of her?"
"We didn't want to be too nosey, as you suggested," Cyclops said. "But we did learn something that might be useful. The priest who takes their confessions is the same one from twenty-seven years ago. If one of the nuns knew something, or did something, they might have told Father Antonio in the sanctuary of the confessional."
"He's unlikely to tell us anything he heard in confidence," I said. "It'll be sacrosanct."
"Aye, but Matt's good at reading people. If he asks the right questions, he might learn something."
I sighed. "It's better than nothing."
"He can be found at St. Mary's in the same street as the convent," Duke said.
Matt lowered his head into his hand and ruffled his hair. When he straightened, he did not smooth his hair back into place. I sat on my hands so as not to do it for him.
"You look tired, Matthew," Miss Glass said. "Why not rest before dinner?"
"I don't need to."
She cocked her head to the side. "You tell him, India."
"Give me the watch." I held out my hand. "Let me speak Chronos's spell into it and see if I can extend the magic again."
He heaved a sigh but complied. I caressed the back of the case, stroking the smooth silver with my thumb as I spoke the extending spell. It warmed and a faint purplish light flared before extinguishing. I handed it back to Matt.
"Use it in your room then lie down for a little," I said. "Don't argue," I added when he opened his mouth. "You're not needed here."
"Bully," he muttered, tossing me a tired smile.
I watched him go then sank into the armchair.
"He's getting worse," Cyclops said.
Miss Glass's hand pressed to her chest and she blinked damp eyes. "My poor boy."
I stood and crouched before her. "We're very close to finding someone who can help him. Very close." I did not mention the possibility that Phineas Millroy might not have inherited his father's magic, nor did I mention the very real possibility he could be dead or out of the country. I couldn't bear to discuss either of those scenarios; Miss Glass's delicate mind might shut down altogether.
She gave a small nod and returned to the magazine on her lap.
Cyclops and Duke left to clean up before dinner. I raced out after them, catching up to Cyclops on the stairs. "I saw Catherine Mason today," I said. "She asked after you."
His step slowed but he forged ahead without glancing at me. "Ain't no concern of mine."
"I can see that you're pleased she enquired about you so don't try to hide it. She's unhappy. She feels stifled at home, and she can see her life stretching out before her in a monotonous stream of housekeeping." I tapped his arm. When he didn't respond, I poked him. "You have the capacity to make her happy—and yourself at the same time."
"I told you why I can't," he snapped. Cyclops never snapped. I'd hit a raw nerve.
"I don't like your reason. I don't agree with it. If you're worried about her safety in America, then don't return."
"Easy to say, not so easy to do."
"I disagree. You have a choice, Cyclops. One of them easy, and one of them is hard but not impossible. Don't shy away from the hard one when it will make you both happier."
He stopped and rounded on me. I folded my arms and glared right back. "Seems to me you're taking the easy way too, India."
My arms dropped to my sides and I stared at his back as he walked off up the stairs. It wasn't until he'd disappeared from sight that I thought of a retort.
I heard the front door open and Bristow greet Willie. I decided to join her instead of dwelling on Cyclops's words.
"India," she declared with a smile. "How was your afternoon?"
"Fine, thank you. I see from your good mood that yours went well."
She handed her battered cowboy hat to Bristow, who took it between thumb and forefinger. "Well enough, and that's all I'll say. Don't try to get anything out of me because you won't."
I held my hands up as I joined her, then leaned closer. "I don't need to question you since I know you have a lover," I whispered.
Her smile vanished. "What do you know?"
"That you're always happy lately and that you're blushing now."
She slapped her hands to her cheeks. "I am not!"
"And that your hair is down when you left with it pinned up earlier."
She touched her hair at her shoulder. It tumbled down her back in long, thick tangles.
"You have the look of a woman who has recently had a fumble in the hay with a fellow. Or perhaps a store room at the hospital."
Her cheeks lost some of their heat and her shoulders relaxed. "How would you know? You ever taken a turn with a lover in a storeroom?"
"I've never had a lover," I shot back, not in the least concerned what she thought of me. "Eddie doesn't count."
"He sure don't. That little turd ain't worthy of you. He ain't worthy of any woman. I reckon he wouldn't even know what to do with one if he got her into a storeroom."
"Probably ask her to fetch a broom and clean up the mess he made of his life."
We both laughed. Then she put her arm around me and dragged me into the library.
"I need a drink. Come and have one with me and shut the door, India. But one more mention of lovers and hospitals and I'll call Bristow and tell him you've been drinking before dinner again."
"Please, spare me his lecture."
* * *
Matt couldn't settle the following morning as he waited for word from Brockwell. He paced into and out of rooms, stared out the front windows to the street, and struggled to make conversation. It worried his aunt, so I offered to walk with her in Hyde Park as a distraction. Hopefully by the time we returned, Brockwell's information, or lack of, would be known.
But it wasn't Brockwell we saw upon our return to the Park Street house. It was Lord and Lady Rycroft, alighting from their carriage. While Matt's aunt visited from time to time with her daughters in tow, his uncle rarely did. His presence didn't bode well.
"Let's keep walking," Miss Glass said. "Perhaps they'll leave if I'm not at home."
"Or perhaps it's Matt they wish to see," I said. "In which case, we ought to be there to support him. I suspect they'll want to discuss Patience's situation."
"I do want to know if Lord Cox has found out about her indiscretion." After a hesitation, she quickened her pace. "You're right. We cannot leave Matthew to bear the brunt. Come along, India."
We met them in the entrance hall where Bristow was in the process of taking Lord Rycroft's hat and walking stick. They greeted Miss Glass formally and even spared a brisk "Good morning," for me, although neither met my gaze.
"Is Matthew at home?" Lady Rycroft asked. "We must speak with him urgently."
"Come through to the drawing room," I said since Miss Glass made no move to invite them to stay. "Bristow, have tea sent in. I'll fetch Matt."
I didn't have to look far. He met me on the stairs as I went up. "Your aunt and uncle are here." I reached out to straighten his tie then quickly pulled back. "Have you heard from Brockwell?"
"No. I was considering going to him instead."