The Sapphire Heiress (The Silver Order #1)

3 The Pocket Watch

Chapter Three

The Pocket Watch

M ae sprung up in her bed, not sure what had woken her. Darkness closed the space around her. Cold air breathed at her neck. Her fire had gone out hours ago. She clenched her blankets tighter, but it was too cold to wait for the morning sun to warm her.

She twisted out of bed and plunged into the darkness for the fireplace. The floorboards creaked as they always did, but something else sounded too: a dull thudding.

She was inclined to think it nothing—particularly with the house thawing in the warmth of spring. But Mae knew every groan and ache the house made and—though faint and obscure—that noise was not one of them.

She gasped, her exhale visible in the freezing night air. She could stand the cold no longer. Tomorrow, she would demand more coal from Mrs. Rosewood. What remained in the fireplace was no more than sparkling embers.

She yanked her robe free from the bedpost. The cold cloth clung to her, sending shivers along her body.

She recoiled. The thuds came three in a row. Had Richie’s dog made its way into the kitchen again? Groaning inwardly, she moved out into the hallway to begin her investigation.

She refused to think anything of danger. Not when they had Moore—Mr. Moore, as she now needed to call him—butler and habitual sleepwalker. Twice, she had caught him walking the halls like a God-damn ghost.

Loud in the silence, her feet thumped along the floorboards. She had no more candles left to guide her. Luckily, she didn’t need one. She knew the halls well enough to walk them in absolute darkness.

After a few moments, her eyes adjusted to the night. She expected to hear Mr. Moore or the dog at any moment, but as she walked along the staircase, all seemed calm. She sighed, waiting for another sound. If it was Mr. Moore, she needed to remember not to wake him this time. Months ago, he had gone on a rampage at her disruption, waking the entire house.

She heard it again. Something tumbled from below. Muffled too, it was undoubtedly nefarious. Whatever was happening, the culprit was trying to keep their actions hidden.

More cautious this time, Mae descended the staircase and caught the glow of a lamp. Down the hall, she realized its source: her father’s old office.

It was one room the Rosewoods had kept unchanged. Since her employer had decided to take another office closer to his personal library, no one had stepped in the room in years.

She stilled. A series of whispered curses caught her off-guard. The terse words were not Mr. Moore’s. She wished she had stayed in the safety of her room. In the dark of night she would only encounter trouble.

The sound of ruffling papers sent her backward. Steps resounded throughout the room. Fear urged her to run, but no matter how terrifying the sounds, she could not get help until she knew their source. She had to be sure it wasn’t some disgruntled servant who likely deserved to take a few things.

Easing herself along the wall, she peered one eye over the threshold .

In the dim light, stood the man from the woods. Her mouth dropped in horror, still frozen when they locked eyes. In the next moment, he pulled her into the room against the wall. Though indecency was the least of her worries, she was suddenly aware of her scant robe and nightgown. Pinned down with a hand over her mouth, her mind raced with devious possibilities and violent ends. The previous cold that had stiffened her body lifted away, replaced by the warm rush of panic.

“Quiet, you,” he commanded with ragged breath. But in his tone, she sensed he was scared too.

“Release me.” Mae panted beneath his warm palm. Though futile, she struggled against him.

“I’ll not hurt you,” he said, as though it were obvious. His hand fell away, his face crumpled in shame.

“What were you searching for?” she asked, straightening her meager gown.

He looked about the room, as if contemplating how much to tell her.

“I could report this,” she added.

He snapped back to meet her gaze. “You mustn’t.”

“Then tell me why you are here.”

He pulled away, pacing. Then, reaching into his breast pocket, he came close again.

“What if”—Mr. Locke reached his hand down to her waist—“your master found you here with my timepiece?” He plopped a heavy thing into the pocket of her robe. Mae waited for him to pull away, but he held fast. She did not wince, though. She would not give a man the pleasure.

“How then will you explain your presence here?” She lifted her chin in defiance. “ Uninvited? ”

He set his jaw and took back his timepiece. “Why couldn’t I have awakened a foolish maid? ”

Mae looked him up and down, still vexed by his needless contact. No one had ever touched her like that. Had not even come close. “Wot’ll it be, then?”

She didn’t like this sudden air he’d taken on. He sounded too much like a criminal, though he looked anything but.

“Come on now.” He dropped the timepiece back into his pocket. He moved behind the desk, collecting papers and putting them back in place. “Everyone has a price.”

“Money, you mean?”

“Indeed. Name your price.”

Mae studied his hands as they shifted the papers, once again noticing his knuckles, completely healed.

She should turn back and get away. But she didn’t. She remained as still as the wall behind her, considering. The temptation to take advantage was unbearable. If nothing else, she needed to risk the one question that had gnawed at her since she’d offered her assistance in the kitchen. She had to.

“What do you know of the Blackthornes?”

Mr. Locke stilled in his work. “Who?”

“The Blackthornes. Were they not your neighbors once?”

“This interests you? Why?” He narrowed his eyes.

She swallowed. “They lived here. They’re in the walls, in the still-hanging portraits. There are stories…”

“I won’t stand for the slanders of gossips.”

“You knew the family, then?”

“No.” He looked to the ground briefly.

He was lying, Mae was certain of it, but what could she do? What else could she say?

“Here. Why not keep this, after all?” He tossed her the watch. “You wouldn’t tell anyone now , would you?”

Mae looked at the shiny object, suddenly abuzz with shame. Idiot. She should refuse. But what then? What might he do? What else was a man who rummaged through offices willing to do for silence? She did not dare think of it. The worst of it was, he needn’t give up his watch.

“I was only curious.”

Her threat earlier had been an empty one. She would much rather not get involved with any of this. Whatever it was.

He dropped the papers. “I know.”

When he stepped close, Mae stared at the mangled skin above his left brow. Perhaps from a similar incident, it seemed to speak of dangers yet to come. She straightened, summoning her voice to scream.

“Not a word.” He clenched his teeth. Then, as if suddenly summoned, he stalked out of the room.

There are serious consequences for walking about past midnight , Mae thought with her chest heaving. This encounter had been one of them. Events could have gone far worse. For a long while, back in the relative safety of her own room, she could think of nothing else. When she settled back in bed, the cold seemed a trifle. Now she had the emptiness to think of.