He watched me with that intense stare of his, as if he were trying to learn something from me without asking a direct question. It was both unsettling and yet sent a thrill through me.
"What is it?" I asked carefully, unsure I wanted to know the answer.
"Something has changed," he said quietly. "I can see it in your eyes, the way you look at me now. Do I have reason to hope?"
I clutched the watch tightly in my fist. "If you ask…I won't say no."
His smile began as a small tug of his lips then it widened, but only briefly before disappearing. He sighed heavily. "I am not in a position to ask. Yet."
"Because you're supposed to be marrying Patience?"
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and could no longer look at me. "I'll find a way out. A way that won't hurt Patience. I just need time."
"What are you two whispering about?" Miss Glass demanded. "I need to know."
"The weather, Aunt," Matt said with an attempt at cheerfulness that didn't ring true. "Just the weather."
Her lips flattened. She didn't believe him but she wouldn't challenge him.
"You English call this spring?" Duke said with a nod at the window. "It's raining again."
Bristow entered, carrying the mail. It included another invitation for me to dine with Lord Coyle.
"This time he has included you, Matt," I said, showing him.
He set aside his own mail to read it. "Perhaps he thought your previous refusal was because you didn't want to attend alone."
"Will you accept?" Cyclops asked.
Matt handed the invitation back to me without making a suggestion either way. He was allowing me to make a choice without interference. While I appreciated it, I would have liked his opinion. I was torn between my desire to leave magic well alone and being proud of my skill with timepieces.
"He probably just wants me to donate a watch to his collection," I said. "And perhaps ask me questions about my magic. Not all of which I will answer, of course," I added to reassure Matt who did not look entirely pleased with my response.
"Then we'll see what he wants," he said.
Willie suddenly crumpled the letter she'd received and raced from the room. Duke rose to go after her but thought better of it.
"Will you go, India?" he said. "She won't talk to me, but she might to you."
I hurried after Willie and found her lying face down on her bed, sobbing into the pillow. She quieted a little when I sat beside her but didn't acknowledge me for several minutes. I didn't speak either, just let her have a good cry.
Eventually she mumbled, "What do you want?" into the pillow.
"I want to see if you're all right."
"Well I'm not. I'm damned miserable. Go away."
"Was the letter from your nurse friend?"
She sniffed. "I said go away."
"I'm not going away, so you might as well answer me. A problem shared is a problem halved, as they say."
"You English have got a stupid saying for everything."
"Oh really? Even more stupid than 'beat the devil around the stump'? I heard Cyclops say that to Matt once, and I still don't know what it means. Or 'nailed to the counter'. I do know what 'hot as a whorehouse on nickel night' implies, but it hardly requires an active imagination."
She rolled over and wiped her sleeve across her red, swollen nose. "I sent her one final letter saying I'd never bother her again if that's what she wanted." She uncurled her hand and showed me the ball of paper. "She wrote that it's what she wants."
"Oh, Willie. I am sorry."
Her lower lip wobbled and I drew her into a hug. She cried against my shoulder.
* * *
I left Willie when her tears dried and went in search of Matt. We hadn't been able to say much to one another with the others around earlier, and I wanted to make it clear how I felt. I also simply wanted to be with him, alone.
I heard his voice coming from the drawing room and went to see who he was having a quiet conversation with. I paused outside the door when I heard Patience speaking.
"Don't try to deny it," she said with more vehemence than she'd ever used in conversations with us before. "I know my father is forcing this marriage on you."
I ought to leave but I could not. I wanted to hear their conversation very much. I would deal with my guilt over my eavesdropping later. For now, I stepped closer.
"I know you are in love with India," Patience added.
"I am."
My heart rose to my throat.
"And that she is in love with you."
Matt took a long moment before he answered. "Do you wish to be free?"
"I…I want to be married."
Did she mean that she didn't care whom she wed? That any man would do, and since Matt was on offer, she'd take him? I suddenly felt unbalanced and leaned against the wall near the door for support.
"I cannot refuse you, Matt, even though I know you don't love me," Patience said. "My parents have seen to that. My sisters will suffer if I do not agree to this union."
"Then you should agree to it. Don't give them any cause to be angry with you."
She sighed heavily. Clearly she was finding the conversation perplexing. I wished Matt would tell her what he'd told me—that he would find a way out, somehow.
Perhaps he didn't tell her because he knew he wouldn't find a way. My stomach rolled at the thought.
"I know there will be consequences if you fail to follow through with the wedding," Patience said. "Although I am not entirely sure what those consequences are."
There was a long pause and I wished I could see Matt's face, to try to understand his thoughts and emotions.
"Please say something," she added, sounding tearful. "I feel awful about this. It's not what I wanted but…but for my own selfish reasons, I will go through with it. I want to be free, you see, I want to get away from my parents and my sisters. I'm so sick of being teased and told how ugly I am, how pathetic and dull. And…and I know you will be kind to me, Matt, and I have decided that marrying a kind man who doesn't love me is better than living the rest of my life as a spinster under my parents' influence."
Again, he did not tell her he would look for a way out. He must feel some sympathy for her plight. I certainly did. She had nowhere to go, no means to supper herself. Marriage was her only means of escape. I, at least, had the cottage and the income its rent gave me, and I would likely soon be in possession of my grandfather's shop. I was not without means. Patience, despite all her family's wealth and privilege, had to rely on others.
I ought to walk away from Matt. I ought to do the right thing and stand aside so they could marry.
But I could not.
"Well," she said, rallying, "marriage between people like us is not about love, is it? Perhaps you and India can come to some sort of arrangement. I won't mind. People do it all the time."