Chapter Nine #3
“Different families’ Words are suited to different types of magic—they used to be more flexible, centuries ago, but as magical ability faded, the results of employing the Words seemed to narrow.
So, for example, the Montgomerys, who own Plenus Venter, are almost entirely focused on food- and appetite-related magic; a member of a different branch of the family sells cooking-enhancing potions and powders.
The potions at Grenoble’s all result in reducing inhibitions in some fashion.
The Grimoire is good at appearance-altering powders—they run a pharmacy selling magical beauty products, too.
And ours are just… good for a laugh. The Gin and Giggles makes everything you hear approximately twice as funny.
It’s one of our most popular offerings.” Her expression turned sly. “You should try some.”
“No, thank you.”
“Afraid you might actually enjoy yourself for a couple of hours?”
“Afraid that I’d be a crushing hypocrite, actually.”
“Plenty of those among the Fleas—and the police, too,” Vesper said, then clammed up in a hurry, looking as though she was afraid she’d said too much.
It wasn’t news to Max, though. He was perfectly well aware that there were a good number of people working in Forbiddance enforcement in some fashion who were gleefully flouting the rules themselves.
“You’re rather noble, aren’t you?” Vesper asked now, regarding him as if he were some sort of puzzle that she wanted to work out.
“I don’t think I’d describe it that way.”
“Of course not. Noble people wouldn’t.”
“I’m a government employee, Vesper, not a knight.”
“But you actually believe in the work you’re doing, Ashbridge. I call that noble.”
“That sounded perilously close to a compliment.”
She gave a careless shrug. “Even Fleas merit compliments occasionally, I suppose.”
“F.L.E.A.s.”
“So you keep insisting,” she said, dimpling at him, and he found himself powerless to resist the urge to smile back at her.
“You ought to try that more often,” she added. “Your face looks rather nice when it’s not doing an impression of a storm cloud.” She glanced over his shoulder, and her expression turned apprehensive. “Ah.”
He turned and found her brother striding toward them.
Freddie’s face darkened at the sight of Max, and he came to a halt before their table. “You didn’t mention you’d have company,” he informed his sister.
“Because I knew you’d behave just like this,” Vesper replied. “Pull up a chair and stop looming over us, please.”
Freddie complied with much grumbling, and Vesper turned to him expectantly. “Well?”
“I found him at home yesterday morning at an ungodly hour,” Freddie said, and Max frowned.
“Sorry, what’s this?”
“I had Freddie pay Everett Carlisle a visit,” Vesper said, sounding pleased with herself.
“Didn’t feel like mentioning that plan to me?”
“I assumed you’d get a bit hysterical about it all, so I decided to simply skip to the bit where Freddie obtained some useful information.”
“Carlisle is in his last year at Oxford and stays with his parents when he’s in town. They have a house in Mayfair. Some distant relative is a mundane aristocrat. The usual sort.” Freddie waved a dismissive hand.
“Whose guest was he?” Vesper asked.
Freddie pressed his lips together into a grim line. “Edward Grenoble.”
“Urgh,” Vesper said, wrinkling her nose. “I didn’t even notice Grenoble that evening.”
“Apparently he broke off from the group quite early—found someone to occupy his time, if you know what I mean.” Freddie waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Thank you, Frederick, I think even George would know what you mean.”
“Merlin, let us hope not,” Freddie said, going pale.
“Who’s George?” Max asked.
Vesper and Freddie shuddered in unison, which made the resemblance between them appear particularly pronounced.
“Our nephew,” Vesper explained. “He’s five. A little young for innuendo, but he’s alarmingly precocious.”
“Ah,” Max agreed. “I see.” Vesper watched him expectantly for a moment, and he added, a bit warily, “What?”
“Well, if Edward Grenoble was here last night, then clearly we ought to visit him, too.”
“What—you think Grenoble poisoned his own friend? To what end?”
“Competitive advantage?” Vesper suggested. “Nothing’s happened at Grenoble’s yet.”
“This is a bit half baked,” Max said.
“Did you have a better idea?”
He sighed. “No.” He rubbed a hand over his face, considering.
“All right. So we’ll visit Plenus Venter, and then Grenoble’s.
” He thought longingly of the quiet, orderly weeknight evenings he usually passed at home, listening to the wireless or reading a book, or at the pub with his best mate, Will.
“Shall we start with Plenus Venter on Wednesday? I’ve plans tomorrow evening. ”
“A whole night spent without Max Ashbridge darkening my doorstep like some sort of grumpy gargoyle, however will I survive?”
Freddie grinned at that, and Max surveyed the pair of them darkly as he rose to his feet. “Is being annoying some sort of Holloway family trait?”
“Coming from you, Ashbridge, I’m going to call that a compliment,” Vesper informed him. He gave her an exasperated look and nodded in farewell, but the sound of her laugh followed him as he made his way to the door, clear and bright like autumn sunshine.