Chapter 4 #2
“I reminded the Widow of the terms of your membership and told her I’d not force you to take an assignment against your will. After all, our inspectors are not paid employees, but independently wealthy volunteers. She’s not forgotten the extent of your physical limitations.”
“Then why does she persist in wishing me to take this case?”
“Because, as the Widow brought to my remembrance, there’s not a single lady in the organization who doesn’t have limitations and areas of weakness—that’s why our inspectors are trained to work as a team.
You may be assigned as lead inspector, Margaret, but you’d not be working the case alone.
You’d be working as one part of a sisterhood. ”
She knew the chief meant her words to encourage, but they served only to stoke her fear. What if her limitations caused her to let her sisters down? What if her weakness caused her to fail them all?
“The case is not complicated or perilous. You’d simply infiltrate the patent office, compare the patents, and then return everything to its place before making a report of your findings.
It couldn’t be more straightforward. If necessary, the Widow is prepared to grant you a lengthy sabbatical upon completion of your mission to give you ample time to recover from any additional physical strain.
So, what say you, Inspector? Will you take the case? ”
Margaret’s brain struggled to process all the possible variables she might encounter.
It was as though the chief had dumped a box of spare parts on her desk and asked her to tell, just by looking at the jumbled mess, if she thought she could build a working steam engine.
“May I have some time to think it over?”
“Of course. You can give me your official answer tomorrow.” The chief pressed a button on the desk, unlocking the door and subsequently ending the meeting.
Margaret nodded. Rotating her wheelchair, she fled the office as the door opened automatically before her, smacking against something solid that toppled onto the floor.
“Ooof!”
As the mechanized door shut again, Margaret found Helena knocked flat upon her rump in the otherwise vacant corridor. Her leather satchel had toppled open, sending her glass vials of botanical samples rolling along the hardwood.
Margaret crossed her arms. “Eavesdropping, Helena? Really?”
Freckled cheeks freshly flushed, no doubt from another expedition into the wilds of Hyde Park, Helena assumed an expression of innocence.
“My dear Maggie, you know I’d never eavesdrop on a confidential briefing between the chief and a fellow inspector.
” A white lop-eared rabbit peeked around her friend’s shoulder, and Helena smirked.
“Miss Flopsy Cottontail, however, has no such compunction.”
“Now’s not the time for scruples, lad, but for frankness and sense.”
“This is a golden opportunity, Charlie. Golden!”
“Indeed, this fortuitous prospect is a veritable gift. And from one of the wisest men of our day, no less. Who could ask for more?”
Charles blinked at the Magi, who’d encircled his desk the moment Mr. Harrison had vacated the premises.
Judging by their exuberance, he’d not imagined the events of the past fifteen minutes.
Mr. Harrison had offered him the short-term position of event coordinator for Alvan T.
Harrison, Incorporated’s upcoming fiftieth anniversary gala at Westminster Hall.
If he accepted, Charles would be in charge of organizing press coverage, invitations, catering, and music for the grand event, along with arranging commemorative displays of gadgets from the archives to illustrate the company’s history of technological innovation—a myriad of tasks that would make it impossible for him to continue working for the Magi as well.
The thought of leaving them in the lurch, even temporarily, after they’d graciously taken a chance on him felt beyond disloyal.
Yet, if he declined, he’d be turning away a significant boon that would restore his depleted savings and family’s financial cushion.
Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. Bach and Beethoven, whatever was he to do?
A hand clapped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Westland’s bass voice soothed like the strings of a cello, warm and deep. “Now, now, Charlie . . . you’re fretting so loud, it’s giving me a headache. Take a breath, lad.”
Charles drew in a long draught of air and looked up at the Magi. “I can’t just—”
“Stop right there.” Bailey held up hand. “You are not to worry about us.”
“That goes without saying.” Barton blinked as his spectacles slipped toward the end of his nose. “Except when it doesn’t. In which case, it needs to be said.”
Bailey quirked an eyebrow at Barton and then shook his head. “As I was saying . . . you are not to worry about us, Charlie. Not for a moment longer, leastwise. Will we miss having you about the place? Certainly. But we can make do without you for a few months.”
Charles raked a hand through his hair. Even if he didn’t worry about the Magi, there were other factors to consider. “The job will take me farther away from home. What if something happens to Father? What if I’m needed and can’t get there in time?”
Bailey’s shoulders lowered as though suddenly weighed with understanding.
“It’s been five years, son. The chances of another episode occurring are slim, and even if one did, your mother and Mrs. Kettle are more than capable of handling the matter.
Besides, you can’t put your life on hold forever, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Your position here was only ever meant to be temporary as well, you may recall. ”
That was what Charles had told his family when they learned he’d sold the Steinway.
That the secretarial work would be temporary.
That he fully intended to return to performing once Benjamin resurrected Father’s practice.
But deep down, he’d known once he shut the door on that part of his life, he’d not be opening it again.
He’d not make the mistake of putting music before his family a second time. “I’ve never planned a gala.”
“But you’ve the skills to give it a proper go,” Bailey argued.
“You’re organized, detail oriented, thorough.
And you conduct your work with a level of excellence that’s garnered you a sterling reputation.
There’s a reason our competitors have been trying to steal you away from us, son.
Your aptitude has outgrown the four walls of our modest establishment.
Just think, the Lord could use this opportunity to open a whole new world for you, Charlie!
Unbelievable sights. New horizons to pursue. ”
A grin tugged at Charles’ mouth. Bailey always did see the possibilities in every situation, the silver lining amid the darkest storm. A character trait he admired but couldn’t seem to emulate. “I don’t know. This job . . . it just seems too good to be true.”
“Nonsense.” Exhaling an exaggerated pshaw, Westland gave Charles’ shoulder a good-natured shove.
“It’s not as though it’s a long-term commitment.
Assuming the experience doesn’t present an opportunity of greater permanence and appeal, you can simply resume your work for us after the gala in September. ”
Bailey grinned from ear to ear. “Exactly. Which means you’ve absolutely nothing to lose!”
Charles nodded at the Magi’s logic, his mind slowly coming around to the idea of accepting the position, even as a knot of uncertainty formed in the pit of his stomach.
Taking this job might be a low-risk proposition, but he knew all too well that as long as one had people to love, one always had something to lose.