Secrets of the Lost Ledgers (The Glass Library #5)

Chapter 20

A scream surged up my throat but before it could escape, the storm unleashed again with another burst of lightning and crack of thunder. My already frayed nerves shattered completely.

Around me, men scattered, diving for cover from the sniper and the rain. Everyone was shouting. Willie’s voice rose above them, ordering Gabe to get back inside the horse’s stall.

But the stall had become as dangerous as outside. The horse reared, punching its hooves into the air before landing mere inches from the unmoving figure of Mr. Wellington.

Without knowing the sniper’s location, there was nowhere to hide.

Another flash of lightning ripped through the sky, lighting up the cowering figures of men, the puddles of water and pools of blood. Thunder followed, but it was different. Cut short. The initial crack was followed by the low rumble as it faded away.

I blinked in that moment, and when my eyes reopened, things had changed. The changes were subtle. Rain still poured from a bleak sky. Horses still paced inside their stalls. Men still fled, as terrified as the horses.

Yet I was on the ground, with Gabe’s body covering me. I tried to scream his name, but the air had left my lungs. I couldn’t breathe.

His own breathing came in ragged, labored bursts. His heartbeat thundered against mine. He was alive.

A wave of relief enveloped me. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes. I circled my arms around him, and he lifted his head. It took effort, but he managed to push himself up on his elbows to take his weight off me.

He brushed my wet hair from my face. “Sylvia,” he murmured. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Are you injured?”

He drew in two deep breaths as if trying to refill emptied lungs. “I’m fine.”

Alex helped Gabe to his feet then assisted me. Gabe bent forward, hands on his knees, and sucked in more deep breaths.

Willie stood, too. She’d fallen. Many of the bystanders had. In fact, everyone who’d been trying to flee or run somewhere had fallen, as if tripping over their own feet. Those who’d taken shelter still crouched in their hiding spots. A bolt of lightning lit up confused faces, but the crash of thunder got them all moving again. Those who’d been running away, continued to flee.

Thurlow wasn’t one of them. One of his bodyguards lay dead on the ground, the other had disappeared in the chaos. Thurlow was on his own, but he showed no fear. His sharp gaze focused on Gabe. Where the others looked confused, he seemed fascinated.

He’d witnessed everything—the interrupted thunderclap, the fallen men, the moment when time seemed to slice in two.

I’d witnessed Gabe’s magic enough times to know how it worked, and that he needed time to recover. It took a lot out of him, perhaps more this time than the last.

“You have to hide,” I urged him. “The shooter might still be out there.” I grabbed his hand to guide him into the stall. I’d rather risk a startled horse than a sniper I couldn’t see.

Gabe straightened. He shook his head. “It’s over. He’s gone.”

“You mean you…?” I lowered my voice. “You stopped him?”

“No. He stopped because he got what he wanted. My reaction.” His gaze searched mine. Then, as if he’d weighed up the repercussions and decided he didn’t care, he drew me against his chest. His arms enveloped me.

My hair was a tangled, sopping mess, my back was muddy. But I didn’t care. All that mattered was that I was with Gabe, and we were both alive.

Even Willie left us alone. She went up to Cyclops who’d come running towards us, outpacing the two younger constables with him. She reassured him everyone was safe, but his gaze quickly assessed the scene for himself. His relief at seeing us unharmed was palpable.

Alex spoke to his father, who then sent his men in the direction from which the shots had been fired. The shooter would probably be well and truly gone by now, but perhaps he’d left behind evidence that could be used to identify him.

With the danger over, bystanders came out of hiding. Cyclops ordered them to remain to give statements, but some left the scene, nevertheless. Thurlow had melted away. Whether he’d given his dead bodyguard a second thought, I didn’t know.

Gabe circled my waist with his arm. “The horse is calm now. Come into the stall.”

The rain had eased a little, but still came down in a steady stream. Lightning brightened the sky again, but it was further away, and the accompanying clap of thunder wasn’t as startling. The horse was jittery but no longer looked as though it wanted to trample us. To my surprise, Willie was the one who’d calmed it. She stood beside it, talking quietly in her American drawl, her hand stroking its neck. I supposed she’d learned how to handle horses in her youth.

I kept my distance from the body of Mr. Wellington. A quick glance was enough to tell me he was dead.

Cyclops strode towards us. “What happened?”

Gabe told him about our confrontation with the vet, and Mr. Wellington’s admission. “We were about to walk to the pavilion, but the sniper stopped us.”

“It sounded like a Lee-Enfield rifle,” Alex told his father. “Trained snipers used them in the war,” he added for my benefit.

“Not very well trained.” Cyclops nodded at the body of Mr. Wellington. “He missed Gabe.”

“He wasn’t aiming for me,” Gabe said. “Not with the first or second shots. I think he missed deliberately, to test me. He wanted to observe me to see how I reacted.”

“How did you react?”

“I didn’t move. That’s why two men are dead.”

Cyclops crouched beside Wellington’s body to inspect the wound. “I heard three shots.”

“The third bullet is lodged there.” Gabe pointed to a hole in the stall wall.

Cyclops stood and inspected the hole. “Did he miss? Or would it have hit someone if you hadn’t been here?”

Gabe dragged his hand through his wet hair. His hat had fallen off and still lay outside in the mud. “It would have hit Sylvia.”

I clutched my throat as bile surged. That’s why he’d ended up covering me on the ground. He’d pushed me out of the way. His magic had activated when I needed saving. I clutched his soaked sleeve and blinked up at him. “Thank you.” It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

A multitude of emotions swirled in his eyes as he gave me a tentative smile.

Hands on hips, Cyclops stared down at the damp straw at his feet. He heaved a sigh, seeming to reach a conclusion he didn’t like. “You’ve got to stay home for now, where it’s safe.”

“I won’t.”

“Gabe! The sniper could try again.”

Gabe shook his head. “The sniper’s work proved to whoever hired him that I’m capable of something magical to stay alive. The first stage of his or her experiment is complete. Today proved that time slowed for me only for the third bullet, not the first two. It only ever does that if I, or someone I care deeply about, is under threat. I think they’ll want to take a closer look at me next and perform more tests under controlled circumstances.”

“Kidnap,” Willie said darkly. “We’re back to that again.”

“Who knew you were coming here to arrest Wellington?” Cyclops asked.

“No one,” Alex said. “But we were followed when we left the house. I lost them while still in London, but it’s possible they guessed we were coming here. We’ve been to the track previously as part of this investigation.”

“We spoke to the manager when we arrived,” Willie said. “He telephoned the police. What if someone at the Yard informed Jakes?”

Gabe wasn’t convinced. “Thurlow,” he growled. “He had no legitimate reason to be near these stables. So why was he? Was it so he could observe my reaction up close?”

“His bodyguard died,” Alex pointed out.

Gabe shrugged. “Thurlow wouldn’t care.”

Thurlow witnessed everything; the two deadly bullets and the third one that missed. I couldn’t tell from his reaction if he knew why it had missed. I wasn’t convinced he’d hired the sniper, nor that he was behind the earlier kidnapping attempts. But I did know one thing for certain. He suspected Gabe had somehow saved himself from being struck by the third bullet.

If he hadn’t believed before that Gabe was a magician who could manipulate time, he most likely did now.

The storm brought an end to the oppressive heat that had been blanketing London for days. I slept soundly in my blissfully cool room and awoke feeling refreshed.

I walked to work, skipping over small puddles and skirting larger ones, my umbrella keeping me dry from the drizzling rain. The sky was the same shade of gray as far as the eye could see, but it wasn’t as dark as it had been at Epsom Downs. I was in a buoyant mood, determined to put the previous day’s horrors behind me. Dwelling on them would do no good. In fact, my positivity could be directly attributed to what had transpired at the racetrack. For one thing, we’d solved the murder of Daniel Barratt. Knowing his sisters-in-law weren’t involved meant I could talk to them without worrying about affecting the case. For another, I’d come to a conclusion about Gabe. More specifically, about Gabe and me.

Life could be cut short in the blink of an eye. Yesterday proved that every day ought to be enjoyed, every moment seized, and every loved one should be, well, loved. It was a lesson I should have learned from the war that took my brother, and the influenza epidemic that killed my mother. Perhaps those events started my journey to this realization. They were certainly the catalyst for my move to London and everything that followed. But yesterday’s events had brought the realization into sharper focus.

I wouldn’t waste a moment of my life going forward. I would live it for all those who couldn’t, whose lives had been lost in the trenches of a senseless war. I’d begin with letting Gabe know how I felt. If Melville Hendry was my father, we would contend with the issue when, or if, the time came. If Gabe’s family didn’t want the daughter of a mad magician near their son, that too would be dealt with when necessary. In the meantime, I wouldn’t jeopardize my time with Gabe for a man who might not even be alive or may not be my father. I would love Gabe as if tomorrow might not come.

As much as I would have liked to visit Gabe, I headed to the library. Professor Nash greeted me with coffee and asked me to tell him what had happened the day before. I told him everything over two cups of coffee in the ground floor reading nook.

Gabe telephoned late morning to see how I was feeling. He invited me to dinner that night at his house. I could tell from his voice that he was in a positive mood, too. The day suddenly seemed even brighter.

At three-thirty, the professor announced that we should pause for a cup of tea and slice of cake. Clutching the book about dung beetles and the concept of rebirth in ancient Egyptian mythology in which Daniel Barratt had written his invisible plea to Oscar, I settled on the sofa and accepted a cup of Twinings tea. At the sound of the front door opening, the professor excused himself. He returned with three women, two of whom I recognized. The third had some very familiar characteristics about her.

My pulse drummed as dramatically as yesterday’s thunder.

“Rosina,” I said, not waiting to be introduced.

The middle-aged woman with white streaks through her fair hair and freckles scattered across her nose approached me. We stood a foot apart, each of our gazes assessing the other. She was the same height as me, but her figure was fuller, rounder. I’d inherited my slim figure from my mother, not my father’s side. The rest of me, however, came from the Hendry side.

Rosina recognized the similarities, too. The corners of her gray eyes crinkled with her sudden smile. She closed the gap between us and drew me into an embrace.

I glanced at her sisters, standing back. Naomi clasped her hands together in front of her chest, her smile matching Rosina’s, her eyes filling with tears. Myrtle stood stoically beside her, her eyes dry, but a small smile touched her lips, too.

Rosina drew away from me. “Sylvia, is it?”

“Yes.” My voice was thick, my throat tight. “You came home.”

“Detective Bailey from Scotland Yard called on my sisters late yesterday and told them the man who killed Daniel was dead.” She bit her lip and drew in a fortifying breath. “They fetched me immediately.”

“She and the children have been hiding in Whitechapel all these years,” Naomi said. “We didn’t tell anyone where she was, just in case Daniel’s murderer came for her, too.”

“We couldn’t trust anyone,” Myrtle added.

Not even Fred, it would seem. Considering the sisters knew he hadn’t lost his hand at work, they must have known he was somehow involved. Although we’d not asked Mr. Wellington about it before he died, I suspected he was the one who’d threatened Fred then sawn off his hand when he failed to locate the ledgers. As a veterinary surgeon, he must have performed amputations before.

“You hid in Whitechapel,” I said. “Near the ledgers?”

Rosina nodded. “In the same court. I saw you from my window. My sisters have been visiting me for years, bringing food when we needed it. These days, I don’t need it. My children have grown up and are employed in good positions. But Naomi and Myrtle still bring food for the other residents and keep me company every Sunday afternoon.”

Naomi took my hand and squeezed. “There’s something we want to tell you, Sylvia. May I call you Sylvia? It’s such a pretty name.” Before I could answer, she continued. “We came here so that Rosina could meet you. We wanted her opinion.” She bounced on her toes, grinning like a child.

Myrtle rolled her eyes. “Let the girl go, Naomi. You’ll cut off the circulation in her hand if you keep squeezing like that.”

Naomi released me. “I can’t help it. I’ve been wanting to say something ever since meeting you, and Myrtle has finally given permission.”

“What my sister is trying to say is that we believe you may be family. You’re a paper magician and you look like a Hendry.”

“You look a lot like a Hendry,” Rosina added.

“I noticed the similarities, too.” I bit my lower lip. “So…am I your niece? Am I Melville’s daughter?”

Myrtle frowned. “It’s very unlikely Melville had children.”

“Why?”

The sisters exchanged glances. Myrtle and Naomi seemed uncomfortable, embarrassed even. But not Rosina. “He didn’t like women,” she said. “He wouldn’t have…done what was necessary to father children.”

“Oh! I see.” It was like a weight lifting off my shoulders. If these women doubted that I was Melville’s daughter, then I believed them. I could be with Gabe and not attract the attention of a mad magician. Willie could finally stop worrying.

My relief didn’t last long.

“That’s not to say he couldn’t .” Myrtle’s point seemed to be directed at her sisters as well as me. “How old are you, Sylvia?”

“Twenty-six. I was born in 1894. I knew my mother as Alice, but her real name was Marianne Folgate. She was a silver magician from Ipswich.”

The sisters all stared at me. “Silver!” Naomi cried. “I thought they all disappeared years ago. My dear, you are special to have silver magic in your veins.”

“I inherited paper magic, not silver,” I told her. “Is my mother’s name familiar to you?”

They shook their heads.

“We lost touch with Melville in ’91,” Myrtle said matter-of-factly. “He disappeared, taking the family journal with him.” She sounded more disappointed by its loss than that of her brother. “He had no right. It belonged to all of us.”

Naomi sympathized with her sister then steered the conversation back to me. “There’s no reason to believe Melville couldn’t have met your mother and fathered you.”

“Except that he didn’t like women,” Rosina pointed out. She took my hands and smiled gently. “You’re a Hendry, though. I’d stake my life on it. How strong is your paper magic?”

“I’ve been told it’s quite strong, but I’m not sure yet. I’m running an experiment. Rosina, did you make that paper rose on the hall table in Myrtle’s house? It’s so beautiful. Will you teach me?”

She beamed. “Yes, of course, I will. I made that a few weeks ago. My magic is rather weak, I’m afraid, so it’ll wilt soon. This is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to my children.”

I’d been so focused on the sisters that I hadn’t noticed Professor Nash disappear. He now returned carrying a tray with more tea things.

“Come upstairs to the larger reading nook,” he said. “Sylvia can tell you all about her life, and you can tell her about the Hendry family.”

The sisters enthusiastically agreed. I smiled. I couldn’t help it. The identity of my father might still be a mystery, but I’d found a family. The picture of my life was becoming clearer. I was part Hendry, part Folgate.

I wasn’t the only dinner guest at number sixteen Park Street. The Bailey family were sipping cocktails in Gabe’s drawing room when I arrived. I suspected the youngest, Lulu, had doctored her cordial with alcohol, going by the way she giggled as she hugged me. From Willie’s smirk, I suspected I knew how she’d done it without her parents’ knowledge.

“You’re a bad influence,” I told Willie when she handed me a martini. “Cyclops would be furious if he found out you added something to Lulu’s drink.”

“Lulu will be fine. I’ll watch out for her.”

That wasn’t much of a comfort.

“Just so you know,” she went on, “Cyclops ain’t the scary one. It’s Catherine you got to watch out for. She’s smarter than she looks, and she watches the girls like a hawk.”

Sensing that we were talking about her, Catherine suddenly glanced our way. Willie raised her cocktail glass in a salute.

Catherine joined us. “What are you two talking about?”

“Alex and Daisy.” Willie nodded at the couple, ensconced together on the sofa, their fingers touching. Daisy was quite the regular at Bailey family dinners lately. “What are you doing here anyway, Sylv?” Willie asked me. “I thought I told you to stay away from Gabe. You being around him ain’t safe.”

“I’m not Melville Hendry’s daughter,” I said. “According to his three sisters, anyway. They believe I am a Hendry, but not their niece. Melville didn’t like women and is unlikely to have been with a woman.”

“Unlikely, but possible. And you mean two sisters, not three. Rosina’s still missing.”

“She came out of hiding.”

Gabe, standing close by, overheard. “She’s alive? What a relief.”

Not even Cyclops knew about Rosina’s return. I told them everything I’d learned from the sisters that afternoon, including repeating their belief that I wasn’t Melville Hendry’s daughter. “They’re sure I am a Hendry, but they don’t know the precise branch I’m from yet. They plan to ask distant relatives.”

Gabe’s warm smile lit up his face. “I can see how happy the news makes you. I’m glad for you, although your family’s identity never mattered to your friends.”

Willie grunted.

“Any news on the sniper?” I asked.

Cyclops shook his head. “Witnesses think they saw him leave the vicinity the shots were fired from, but no one is sure. There was a great deal of confusion at the time.”

I addressed my next question to Gabe. “Had you heard of veterinary magic before yesterday?”

“I’d never given it any thought,” he said.

Catherine touched my elbow to get my attention. “We have some news. Well, there are two pieces of news, actually, one good, the other not so much. The good news first. India and Matt are coming home.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said. “I look forward to meeting them.” I watched Gabe through lowered lashes to gauge his reaction.

He dipped his head, a shy motion I’d never seen him make before. “I can’t wait for them to meet you, too.”

It was just the response I wanted to hear.

“By the time they get home, it will be almost six months since they left,” Catherine said. “It’s gone so fast. Their last letter said they can’t wait to see everyone. The friend they’re traveling with is eager to return to his work here, too. He’s a doctor,” she added. “He and his wife are such dear friends. We’ll have to host a dinner party to hear all about their adventures.”

“They’ll find some changes when they get home,” Gabe said, watching me. “Nothing they don’t already know from my letters, but still… Everything is different now.”

“Oh yes,” Catherine barreled on cheerfully. “Their plan worked.”

“What plan?”

“To delay your wedding to Ivy by going on holiday.”

Gabe stared at her, his lips slightly apart. “Is that true? Cyclops?”

Cyclops sipped his martini.

“Willie?”

“Don’t look at me, Gabe.” She narrowed her gaze at Cyclops and Catherine. “I wasn’t told anything either.”

“They didn’t say it in so many words,” Cyclops said. “But it was obvious.”

“Not to me.”

“Nor me,” Gabe said, sounding thoughtful.

Catherine placed her hand on his arm. “They knew Ivy wasn’t right for you. They would never have said so, but by leaving the country for a while, it gave you time to truly discover who Ivy was, but more importantly, who you were. That’s all you needed, Gabe. Time.”

“Ironic,” Willie muttered.

Gabe studied his martini as he swirled the liquid around the glass. “Not just time.”

He didn’t look at me, but Catherine, Cyclops and Willie did.

I sipped in an attempt to hide my warm cheeks.

“Speaking of Ivy,” Gabe went on. “That’s the other piece of news, Sylvia. She telephoned just before you arrived. Her father died.”

“We knew Mr. Hobson was ill, but it seems sudden,” I said.

“Apparently he was sicker than we realized.”

His death meant Bertie became head of the family and the company at a time when the latter was under fierce scrutiny. I doubted he was up to either task. At least he could call on his mother and sister for help. Perhaps running the company would give them something to do and take their attention away from me.

Bristow announced dinner was served and we filed into the dining room. The array of Mrs. Ling’s Chinese dishes tasted delicious and there wasn’t a morsel left by the time we finished. The lack of conversation as course after course came out was a testament to how much we enjoyed the meal.

Afterwards, we returned to the drawing room for port or coffee. I was very aware of how little Gabe and I had spoken to each other throughout the evening. The frequent glances in my direction from across the dinner table promised much, but we’d not had any time alone. I began to wonder if we would. Whenever Gabe and I drew near to each other, Willie intercepted.

Our moment finally came as Cyclops struck up an argument with his eldest daughter. Ella, the almost-qualified WPC, wanted to work in the East End after her training ended, while her father preferred her to work in the Westminster Borough.

“It’s safer here,” he said.

“That’s because nothing happens in Mayfair,” she whined.

“There are burglaries.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and humphed .

Gabe signaled for me to follow him out of the drawing room. Willie rose from the armchair to stop me, but Catherine and Cyclops both asked for her opinion on the argument.

“You agree with us, don’t you, Willie?” Catherine said.

Willie shrugged. “Ella should do what she wants.” Her gaze and her full attention were not on the family discussion. She looked like she would excuse herself to join Gabe before I could reach him.

Until Cyclops took the argument up a notch. With a wink for me and his wife, he cleared his throat. “Female constables shouldn’t be allowed to work in the dangerous areas.”

Willie rounded on him, hands on hips. “Ella is as capable as any man.”

Either Ella was in on her father’s scheme, or she’d guessed, because she urged me to leave the drawing room with an encouraging nod at the door through which Gabe had exited. She then invited Willie to explain the meaning of gender equality to her father.

I slipped out of the room. Before I’d taken two steps into the corridor, Gabe pulled me aside. He took my hand and led me further away into a recessed doorway.

“I finally get you to myself,” he murmured. He dipped his head but did not kiss me. He seemed to be waiting for my permission.

“I thought you were worried about leading an angry mob of Hobsons to my door,” I said. “Did Ivy’s father’s death change your mind?”

“No. I’d already decided I wouldn’t let them come between us. If we let fear of retaliation keep us apart then they win.” He leaned in, but I put my hand to his chest to stop him. He pouted.

“They might dig up even more unsavory information about my past. So far, they’ve only managed to start rumors about me being a nobody. But what if they, or someone else, discover I am Melville Hendry’s daughter?”

“It won’t change how I feel about you. I only care that it might prove dangerous for you . But I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to make all our problems go away so we can be together. I can’t stay away anymore. I’ve been trying…” He pressed his forehead to mine. “It’s no use. I have to be with you.”

I wanted to tell him I understood, and that I wanted to be with him, too, more than anything. But my constricted throat made speaking impossible. All I could do was nod.

No, not all. There was one other thing I could do to get my point across.

I pressed one hand to his spine, another to the back of his head, and kissed him thoroughly.