The Dire King (Jackaby #4)(17)
“I’m not the one making a fuss. I don’t care the least bit about your little foray into . . . romance.” Jackaby pushed the word out of his mouth as though it had been reluctantly clinging to the back of his throat. “If anything, I am concerned that you are choosing to make precisely the choice that I told you you should not make!”
“What? Wait a moment. Are you . . . jealous?”
“Don’t be asinine! I am not jealous! I am merely . . . protective. And perhaps troubled by your lack of fidelity to your position.”
“That is literally the definition of jealous, sir. Oh, for goodness’ sake. I’m not choosing Charlie over you! I’m not going to suddenly stop being your assistant just because I spend time working on another case!”
“You might!” he blurted out. He sank down into the chair at his desk. “You just might.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because things change. Because people change. Because . . . because Charlie Barker is going to propose,” he said. He let his hand drop and looked me in the eyes. “Marriage,” he added. “To you.”
I blinked.
“I miss a social cue or two from time to time, but even I’m not thick enough to believe all that was about analyzing bloodstains together. He has the ring. It’s in his breast pocket right now. He’s attached an absurd level of emotional investment to the thing—I’m surprised it hasn’t burned a hole right through the front of his jacket, the way its aura is glowing. He’s nervous about it. He’s going to propose. Soon, I would guess.”
I blinked.
The air in front of me wavered like a mirage, and in another moment Jenny had rematerialized. “And if he does,” she said softly, “it will be Abigail’s decision to face, not yours. There are worse fates than to receive a proposal from a handsome young suitor.” She added, turning to me with a grin, “Charlie is a good man.”
“Yes, fine! But she has such prodigious potential!” Jackaby lamented. “Having feelings is one thing—I can grudgingly tolerate feelings—but actually getting married? The next thing you know they’ll be wanting to do something rash, like live together ! Miss Rook, you have started something here that I am loath to see you leave unfinished. You’ve started becoming someone here whom I truly want to meet when she is done. Choosing to leave everything you have here to go be a good man’s wife would be such a wretched waste of that promise.” He faltered, looking to Jenny, and then to the floorboards. “On the other hand, you should never have chosen to work for me in the first place. It remains one of your most ill-conceived and reckless decisions to date—and that is saying something, because you also chose to blow up a dragon once.” He sighed. “Jenny is right. You could make a real life with that young man, and you shouldn’t throw that away just to hang about with a fractious bastard and a belligerent duck.” He sagged until his forehead was resting on his desk.
Hovering behind him, Jenny moved to put a hand gingerly on his shoulder. Her fingers passed right through him, and she bit her lip and withdrew the hand. Jackaby did not appear to have noticed the attempted gesture at all.
“When Charlie proposes,” he said, looking up from the desk listlessly, “just remember that not making a choice is always an option.”
I blinked.
“We’re never not making choices,” said Jenny softly from behind him.
“Charlie,” I managed finally, “is going to propose?”
Jackaby nodded. “Marriage,” he added. “To you. Have you been listening?”
I shook my head. Charlie and I had been on only half a dozen proper dates—and only if you counted situations of mortal peril as proper dates. The thought of having a whole life with him all to myself, instead of just stolen moments, felt like tripping over a floorboard and falling into a feather bed, disorienting and delightful. But I had never considered that more of Charlie might mean less of my life here on Augur Lane. Charlie was one of the only people in my life who supported, even encouraged, my commitment to this mad line of work. It was part of the reason that—
I swallowed. My head felt all hot and foggy.
It was part of the reason that I loved him.
I realized Jackaby and Jenny were both watching me closely.
“I—I’m going to go look at a dead body,” I said, straightening. “I’m going to go find clues and interview witnesses. I’m going to go think very, very hard about murder and mayhem and monsters, because that’s what I do.”
Jackaby smiled. He looked like he was about to speak again, but I cut him off.
“And I’m going to go do all that with Charlie,” I said. “I like saving the world with Charlie. We’ll be back this evening.”
Jackaby’s smile wobbled, but he did not stop me as I stepped numbly out the door.
Chapter Seven
The streets of New Fiddleham felt less chaotic with Charlie as my escort. I had never known Mr. Jackaby to take the same route twice, and when he was at the helm, we always spun around so many times that I could never tell which way we had actually traveled or how far we had gone by the time we got there. Charlie and I moved purposefully, and we caught a ride on a public horse-drawn trolley for most of the trip north.