The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(10)

"Of course you can stay," Catherine said, when she led me to the kitchen. "Can't she, Mama?"

Mrs. Mason smiled a weak greeting then pounded her fist into a mound of dough. "As long as your father doesn't mind."

"Why would he mind? India is my oldest friend, and she needs us now." Catherine squeezed my hand and rolled her eyes.

"He'll be home shortly," Mrs. Mason said, giving the dough a particularly heavy beating. The Masons kept no maid, and whenever I saw Catherine or her mother, they wore aprons and could be found in the kitchen. Their house was perpetually full of delicious smells.

"I don't want to be any trouble." I nibbled on my lower lip. Perhaps my coming here had been a mistake. The Masons didn't have much charity to offer. "It'll only be for the night. I'll sleep on the floor and eat the scraps from the table. Oh, and I can pay you. My new employer gave me a week's wages in advance."

Mrs. Mason stopped kneading. "A penny or two would help to ease Mr. Mason's mind." She smiled, more genuinely this time. "You're a sweet friend to our Catherine and always welcome here. It's just that…" She shook her head and glanced at the door.

"What is it, Mama?" Catherine prompted.

"You're a young woman, India, and we have two impressionable young men in the house still. That's all."

"Oh. I didn't think about that," I said.

Catherine laughed. "Ronnie and Gareth don't interest India in the least, Mama. She can do quite a bit better than my dull-witted brothers."

Her mother returned to her dough. "Even so."

"Ronnie and Gareth are like brothers to me," I said. Hopefully it was enough to reassure her that I wasn't about to trap her sons into marriage. Admittedly it stung that she thought I would. She must also know that her sons would have no interest in me, no matter what methods I used to trap them. Like Catherine, the Mason boys were all attractive and fair. They could have their pick of girls. I was too old for them, and too plain with my straight brown hair, short stature and a waist that refused to shrink to a more fashionable size no matter how tightly I pulled my corset laces.

Catherine led me by the hand up the stairs to her room. She shut the door and tossed herself onto the bed. She patted the mattress beside her. "Ronnie heard a rumor that you confronted Eddie. Is that so? Tell me what happened." Her long pale lashes fanned over her big blue eyes in innocent wonder. It was not surprising that she had several suitors vying for her hand. A few years younger than me, and quite a lot taller and prettier, the youths always followed her about like puppies. She seemed to enjoy the attention, but I expected it must get tiresome after a while.

"I tried," I told her. "I did manage to ruin a transaction with his customer." Although I was no longer sure if Mr. Glass was there to purchase a watch after all.

Catherine giggled into her hand. "Good for you. That horrible little man is…well, he's horrible. Father is refusing to send any custom his way now, even if it's something we don't stock and he knows Steele's—I mean, Hardacre's—does."

"Your father is an honorable man."

She placed her hand over mine on my lap and gave me a sympathetic smile. "I'm glad you still think so. I know it wasn't easy to forgive him after the guild made their decision, but he had to go along with the majority."

"I don't blame him."

I must have sounded convincing because she seemed to believe me. The truth was, I did blame Mr. Mason for not standing up to them. Father had said he'd sat quietly and not said a word during the meeting among the senior guild members at which my application for membership had been tabled. A mere week before that, Mr. Mason had urged me to apply. The about-face baffled me. The relationship between our two families had never been quite the same again, although my friendship with Catherine remained unchanged, thank goodness. I knew so few other women of similar age that the loss of her friendship would have been worse than my broken engagement to Eddie.

"Tell me about your new position," Catherine said. "Does it involve watches?"

"In a way."

"Good. You've got a knack for fine repair work, so Father says. He was quite impressed by how quickly you learned everything. He used to hold you up as an example of why women ought to be allowed to perform men's work if they chose." She screwed up her nose. "Sorry, India, but I am glad he stopped all that. I began to feel quite inadequate next to your perfection."

"I'm hardly perfect," I scoffed.

"Father has always appreciated brains over beauty." She patted her bouncy blonde curls. "Some men do, you know," she added, as if such men were a rarity.

"Most prefer a little of both," I said, laughing, "but not too much of either."

She broke into giggles again.

"We'd be quite the combination if we were one person," I said, still smiling. "With your looks and my watchmaking skills, we'd have all the gentlemen for miles around purchasing our watches."

"Stop putting yourself down like that, India." She nudged my elbow. "You're pretty. I don't know why you think you're not."

"Because next to you, I'm not."

"Bollocks." She giggled at the crass word. "That Eddie Hardacre has a lot to answer for, always putting you down the way he did. I don't know what you saw in him."