The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(92)

"Precisely." He slapped his hand down on the chair arm and pushed himself up. "India, are you feeling up to a shopping expedition?"

Every time we went shopping, he bought me sweets, dresses, hats or trinkets. And every time, I fell a little bit more in love with him. Not because of the sweets, dresses, hats or trinkets, but because it was time spent alone together, just the two of us, and we were able to simply talk. The more we talked, the more I realized I liked him beyond his good looks. I liked him because he was amusing and kind, clever and curious, and interested in what I had to say. An intoxicating combination for any woman, and that was without throwing his fortune and position into the mix.

"I think I'll stay home," I said, ignoring the regret pinching my gut.

"Pity." He shrugged, as if it made no difference to him. "I hope I don't choose the wrong watch." Damn him for always knowing the right thing to say. He held out his hand to me, his eyes sparkling.

I placed my hand in his. "Unlike Inspector Brockwell, it seems I can be bribed."



"Would you like to visit Mr. Barratt?" Matt asked, handing me back into the carriage.

I paused on the step and stared at him. He was still taller than me, despite the step, and with the hazy sun behind his head, I had to squint to see him properly. I could almost hear Catherine's voice telling me I'd get wrinkles so I tried to widen my eyes. I ended up blinking furiously in order to see him at all.

"I... I don't know," I said. "Why?"

"Because he's injured and I suspect you have things you want to talk about." He leaned closer. "Magic things. And your appointment for this Friday night."

A bubble of laughter escaped my lips. "Appointment?"

"You know what I mean. Well? Do you want see him or not?"

I shook my head and climbed into the cabin. "Not yet. He'll need time to recover. I imagine he's still in some pain. I'll write him a note freeing him of his obligation to take me to the theater. He can't possibly go yet."

"Home, Duke," Matt said to his friend, sitting on the coachman's seat. We'd taken out the second carriage, and Duke had offered to drive us. He and Cyclops would share coachman duties until another could be employed. Nobody pressed Matt to interview replacements. Bryce's death was still a sensitive topic.

We'd purchased a handsome gold double hunter case watch from Catherine's father. It wasn't the most expensive watch in the shop, but it was the best. I couldn't wait to get it home and make sure it was in perfect working order. Mr. Mason assured me that it was, but I ought to check. Indeed, it had been Matt's idea.

"You said yet," Matt said as we drove off. His grin was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a scowl. I missed the smile.

"Pardon?"

"You said that Barratt can't possibly go to the theater with you yet." His fingers tapped his thigh and the wall behind my left ear drew his gaze. "You still plan on going with him?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I've had other things on my mind."

His gaze flew to mine. "Such as?"

"So many things." His kisses and kindnesses, mostly, but that discussion could not be borne now. "Such as the notion of bringing magic into the open."

He blinked slowly. "Ah."

"I've been thinking about Mr. Barratt's notion of writing articles about magic. They couldn't be overt, at first, but a subtle and slow introduction to the art of magic would bring it into the public consciousness. Newspapers are powerful, Matt. They can affect public opinion on a grand scale. Look at Dr. Hale's Cure-All. Its reputation made it into the newspapers and sales rocketed, then plummeted again after reports of Hale's death. Imagine harnessing that power on the side of magic. With Barratt reporting on the good it can do, the public will surely become favorable to us. With the public on our side, governments will change their policies and the guilds would become less effective. They're only powerful now because successive governments let them become powerful, but public opinion would change that in our favor." The more I spoke, the more the idea excited me. It had excited Oscar Barratt too, and I could see why. "If we want to keep magicians safe, then bringing magic into the open is the only way to do it."

Matt didn't interrupt me, but I could see from his face that he didn't share my enthusiasm. While I felt as if I would bounce off the seat, he sat like an imposing statue, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Newspapers are powerful," he finally said. "I agree with your there. But it's a gamble to think the public would come down on the side of magic, not against it."

"You're a gambler."

"I used to be. And you, India, are definitely not the risk-taking sort. Not on this scale."

He leaned forward and rested his clasped hands on my knees. The intimate gesture did just as much to scramble my nerves as his kiss had.

"I think it best if we keep magic a secret," he said.

"We can't control Mr. Barratt. If he writes about it, then there's nothing we can do."

"If he writes about you specifically, I'll wring his neck."

"Thank you, Matt, but I can wring it myself." I wriggled my fingers. "I have big hands and his neck is not so thick."