Chapter 16
“Oscar!” I cried. “You can’t accuse Miss Wheeler without evidence!”
“That’s a fair point, and ordinarily I wouldn’t. But I do have good instincts, and in this case, my instincts have served me well.”
I pushed my glasses up my nose to study Miss Wheeler. She was unmoved by the accusation. “Is he right?”
She stopped and rested the point of her umbrella into the groove between pavement stones. She folded her hands over the top and regarded me levelly. “He is. I am sorry, Professor.”
“Why did you take it?”
“To get you involved in finding the missing women. I saw the newspaper headlines at the station when we arrived in Edinburgh, then I read the article at Kinloch’s while you were all negotiating the sale of the book.
I couldn’t sleep that night thinking about them.
The article mentioned witchcraft, and given I am a woman and a magician…
it felt very personal. Considering most police forces around the world lack time and resources, I suspected Edinburgh’s could do with some help from three enterprising, clever people.
I doubted you’d change your plans on a whim to take on an investigation that had nothing to do with you, so I gave you an incentive, as it were. ”
She’d picked the lock on my hotel room door! She’d used her hairpins, just as she’d done with the door to the building where the captives were being held. “You left the straw effigy in place of the book to make us think the theft was linked to the kidnappings.”
“I read about them in the newspaper, but I didn’t get it quite right, as the police pointed out when we showed it to them.” She reached out and clasped my hand. “I am sorry for manipulating you, Professor.”
“I don’t understand. What made you think we were enterprising and clever? You’d only just met us.”
“I could tell as soon as I met you that you were a quick thinker, Professor. I underestimated you, however. Your mind could best be described as formidable. The way you deduced that it was Mr. Gordon was marvelous.”
I lowered my head, but I doubted I managed to hide my blushing cheeks from her.
She was polite enough not to point it out. “Can you forgive my duplicitousness, Professor?” She squeezed my hand.
I squeezed back. “Of course I can. The outcome is beyond wonderful.”
She breathed deeply and a look of relief washed over her. She squeezed my hand again before releasing it. “Just one more thing. Mr. Defoe doesn’t know that I took the book, and I prefer that he doesn’t find out. I especially don’t want him finding out that I gave it back to you.”
Oscar and I assured her he wouldn’t learn anything from us.
We resumed walking, Miss Wheeler between Oscar and me. “You are wrong about one thing,” Oscar told her, his voice low, as if he wanted only her to hear, no one else. Not even me. “We would have changed our plans to help you. All you needed to do was ask.”
She blinked rapidly in an attempt to hide the emotion suddenly welling in her eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Barratt.”
“Please call me Oscar.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, her emotions once more under control. “No.”
He chuckled.
We continued at a leisurely pace back to the hotel, none of us in a hurry to return to Defoe and what must be the end for this new friendship.
Despite that, I felt full. I was in the company of two people I liked and admired, I’d solved a mystery, and ushered two young women back into the arms of their loved ones.
I was also about to get the book back. To add to my good mood, the clouds parted, revealing a lovely blue sky.
Afternoon sunlight bathed the honey-colored buildings in a warm glow to match the warm glow within me.
The city hummed with activity, but at a gentler pace compared to London, and the air wasn’t nearly as smelly or thick. All was right with the world again.
After changing my shirt for a fresh one, I joined Oscar in his room.
It was too early for dinner, but we hoped to find a tavern or inn for refreshments.
I watched as he tied his tie in the reflection of the dressing table mirror.
I couldn’t tell if he was happy or forlorn.
He seemed thoughtful, his mind not quite on the task at hand. He made a mess of the knot.
“You can’t go out like that,” I chided.
He pulled a face at his reflection. “You’re right.” He turned to me. “Can you do it?”
I undid the tie and restarted. “When did you know Miss Wheeler took the book?”
“I had an inkling when we confronted Defoe this morning. I believed his denial, but I couldn’t think who else might have taken it.
She seemed the logical choice, but I’m ashamed to say I dismissed the idea simply because I couldn’t imagine a woman breaking into your room in the night.
When the police told us our effigy was different, I realized the theft probably wasn’t connected to the abductions at all, then throughout the day, I slowly began to realize it must be her.
When she unlocked that door in the close, I knew it for certain.
Did it never occur to you she’d taken it to encourage us to investigate the abductions? ”
“Not once. It still seems an extreme method when she could have just asked.”
“She couldn’t be sure we would agree.”
I finished tying his tie and stepped back to make sure it was straight.
Oscar cleared his throat. “She was right, Gavin. You were magnificent today.”
“I didn’t find Juliette and Mary. Miss Wheeler did that with her chalk dust.”
“You found the way to open the hidden door, and you were the one who worked out Gordon was the culprit then went on to prove it. I knew your big brain would come in useful on these jaunts.” His eyes twinkled with his smile. “It seems I was the superfluous one of the trio.”
“Hardly. You’re the glue.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure if he was thanking me for calling him the glue or for tying his tie.
“I must apologize for getting carried away in the Gordons’ drawing room,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me, but laying out the evidence to everyone, and finally putting it all together and unmasking Mr. Gordon…it was all rather invigorating.”
“I could see you were enjoying yourself.”
“Could you? Oh. That makes me sound thoughtless, given the awful circumstances.”
“Don’t worry. I’m probably the only one who noticed.”
A knock at the door had Oscar rushing eagerly to open it. “Miss Wheeler, do come in. Gavin is here.”
She looked past him and lifted a hand in a wave. In it, she held the book. “Take it quickly. Mr. Defoe will be here any moment.”
Oscar accepted it and handed it to me without even glancing at it. “Leave him, Adele.” He grasped her hand between both of his. “Leave Defoe and come with us.”
She plucked out her hand. “Thank you for the offer, but I decline. Again.”
“May I write to you?”
“You may not.” She turned her head to the side, listening, as Mr. Defoe arrived. “Also, it’s Miss Wheeler to you.”
Mr. Defoe chuckled. “Give up, Barratt. She’ll never be trapped.”
Miss Wheeler kept her features schooled. “Goodbye, Mr. Barratt, Professor.”
I joined Oscar and held out my hand for her to shake. “Goodbye, Miss Wheeler. Mr. Defoe.”
She removed her hand from mine and offered it to Oscar. “I want to apologize for calling you an idiot after the second shooting. You’re not an idiot. Indeed, you’re far from it. In fact, you’re not a bad fellow.”
“Not bad?” He smiled slyly. “You do recall the way I stopped Jack the footman escaping from the drawing room, don’t you? He’s a big fellow.”
“Handsome, too,” she added, teasing.
“Some would say he’s not rough enough around the edges.” He scratched his goatee beard.
She rolled her eyes.
“Take the compliment, Barratt,” Mr. Defoe chimed in. “She doesn’t hand them out often.” He withdrew his watch from his waistcoat pocket and made a point of checking the time. “Come, Adele, we have a train to catch.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Barratt,” she said, tugging her hand to withdraw it from his.
Oscar lifted it to his lips. “Not goodbye,” he murmured against the glove. “I have a strong feeling we’ll meet again.”
Her gaze met his. Whatever she saw in his eyes unnerved her.
She swallowed heavily and snatched her hand free.
She picked up her umbrella, which she’d rested against the wall and joined Mr. Defoe.
The gentleman touched the brim of his hat in farewell, offered his assistant his arm, and they headed off along the corridor.
Oscar watched them until they turned the corner, but Miss Wheeler did not look back. With a sigh, he closed the door.
I quickly checked the book to ensure it hadn’t incurred any damage and no pages had been torn out.
While I trusted Miss Wheeler implicitly, I did not trust her employer.
He may have found the book among her belongings while she was out investigating with us.
It was in the same condition as the last time I’d seen it, thank goodness.
I folded it against my chest and released a sigh that was more satisfied than Oscar’s disappointed one.
The last time I’d seen Oscar this smitten, he’d proposed to Lady Louisa. Before that, he’d been enamored of India Steele. Perhaps it was time to point out a sobering fact about Miss Wheeler to help him overcome this new infatuation before it ate away at him.
“She took advantage of us, Oscar. She knew you liked her, and that I would follow where you led, and she used that to manipulate us. Granted, her manipulations were for a good purpose, but the fact is, only a certain type of person does that.”
“One who is desperate? She wanted to find those women and she didn’t know how else to go about it. She couldn’t do it alone and Defoe wasn’t going to be of any use. I am happy to be manipulated, in this instance.”
It would seem I was too late. He was more infatuated with her than I had realized. That hadn’t taken long at all.
Oscar asked for the book, then placed it inside his valise before locking it. “Do you believe in fate, Gavin?”
“No.”
“Soulmates?”
“Oscar, you will find someone to love. You have a good heart, and I know in my bones you’ll find someone worthy to give it to.
“What if I already have?”
I wanted to put a comforting arm around him, but wasn’t sure how he’d react, so I tilted my head to the side and gave him a sympathetic look. “I mean someone who is available. Miss Wheeler has made it clear she is not.”
He picked up his hat and twirled it. “That’s not the message I got.”
“She told you not to write to her.”
“But her eyes said something quite different.”
“If you can read eyes so well then read these.” I lifted my glasses and rolled my eyes in such an exaggerated manner that it hurt my eyeballs. “Ow.”
Oscar chuckled and placed his arm around my shoulders. “Come on. I need a drink.”
“A cup of tea would do nicely.”
“I was thinking of something stronger. Let’s see if we can find a place that stocks Kinloch’s whiskey.”
The swaying motion of the train didn’t affect me as much on the journey back to London as it had on the way up to Edinburgh.
I suspected it was because I felt less anxious.
Our first expedition had come to an end, and I’d proved to myself that I was capable.
Being away from the familiar comforts of home wasn’t as terrifying as I’d thought it would be.
That was most likely because of the capable and fearless man sitting opposite me.
Oscar finally closed A Treatise on the Laws of Witchcraft and Maleficium in Scotland as we pulled into King’s Cross Station.
After his disappointment over the parting with Miss Wheeler, I let him read the book first to cheer him up.
It seemed to have the desired effect, going by the secretive little smile he sported.
“Well?” I prompted.
“It’s an interesting book, once you get past the archaic spelling and terminology. Mackenzie’s thoughts on witchcraft are remarkably modern by the standards of his time.” Oscar’s lips flattened. “Mr. Gordon’s secret sect notwithstanding.”
The similarities of the circumstances surrounding the abductions of Juliette and Mary to the persecution of witches in the seventeenth century, when the book was written, had given me much to think about on the journey.
While a great deal had changed over the centuries, there were pockets of society that hadn’t.
Thankfully, nowadays it was the witchfinders who were imprisoned, not the so-called witches they hunted.
Oscar’s small smile returned, so he mustn’t be thinking about the topic of witchcraft. Only two things could produce that smile and Miss Wheeler was one of them. Since she and Mr. Defoe had left Edinburgh last night for parts unknown, I guessed it was the other matter that made him happy.
“You found the reference to the tattoo.” I indicated the book, opened to a page near the end on his lap.
He turned it around to show me and pointed at a paragraph. “Mackenzie heard a story about a tattoo that makes a person fly when they speak a spell. He uses the term witch, but we can assume it’s an ink magician.”
I read the paragraph then glanced up at Oscar. His eyes were feverishly bright, his smile barely contained. “We’re going to Italy next, aren’t we?”
His smile finally broke free. “We are. But first, we need to deliver this to India and Matt.”