The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(22)

"What is this guild?"

"It's one of several craft guilds that have been in operation for centuries here in England. The official title is the Worshipful Company of Watchmakers, but no one calls them that nowadays. There's an Engineers’ Guild, a Tailors’ Guild, a Carpenters’ Guild, a Jewelers’ Guild and dozens of others. Everyone who creates something and sells that creation must belong to a company. It's the law. No membership, no license to sell. Don't you have them in America?"

"There are organizations in different states, but they're not as controlling. Is the guild's only function to determine who can and can't sell their goods?"

"They also take care of the widows and families of deceased members with hardship funds, and issue awards for quality workmanship. A member is only eligible for the award if he enters, of course, and there's a fee for entry, but the winners' names are published in all the major newspapers and journals. The custom that generates can be enormous."

"Who decides on a winner?"

"The guild master and other members elected to the committee, which is known as the Court of Assistants. It may not surprise you to learn that Mr. Abercrombie has won both the Best Watch and Best Clock award for the last three years."

"Did he cheat?"

"He probably bought votes or made threats."

"Is that why your father disliked him?"

"One of the reasons." I swirled the tea slowly around my cup and tried to suppress the well of despair that always threatened to spill over whenever I thought about Father, the guild, and losing our shop to Eddie. "When Father became ill, he encouraged me to apply for membership. He knew that in order to keep the shop operating on my own, after his death, I would have to belong to the guild. They refused my application."

"Did you have the necessary qualifications?"

"Of course. I'd been Father's apprentice for years. The entry test requires the applicant to disassemble a watch mechanism and put it back together again. It's very simple, and I would have passed easily, but I wasn't given the opportunity. They threw out my application without even considering it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm female."

He considered this with a frown. "But I've seen female shopkeepers here who I'm sure make their own wares—dressmakers, jewelers, milliners. Don't they need to belong to their respective guilds too?"

"They do, but their companies allow women. The Watchmakers' Guild doesn't."

"Why not?"

"You ought to ask them. It's ridiculous. I'm an excellent watchmaker, but they seem to think I would make an inferior product and devalue their reputation." It still made my blood boil to think about it. Their logic was flawed and archaic, but there was nothing I could do. An overhaul of their bylaws could only be started if all members agreed to a vote.

"Ah. I see, now," he said.

"See what?"

"Why your father left the shop to Hardacre. He must have seen it as the only way to keep the shop for you, assuming you would soon marry him."

"Except that we didn't marry," I bit off. "Eddie tricked Father, and me too." I would never be tricked again by a two-faced, lying little turd.

"He must have been quite believable," he said quietly.

"He was, but it doesn't excuse my own blindness." The truth was, I'd wanted to believe that Eddie loved me. I was twenty-seven and had never known the affections of a man. A year ago, I'd given up hope of marriage and embraced spinsterhood. And then Eddie breezed into my life with his easy smiles, handsome face, and eagerness to please. Nothing was too much trouble or too dull, from accompanying me to the market to watching me fix a clock in the workroom.

Yet he'd never laughed at the jokes I laughed at. I should have taken that as a sign that he wasn't for me, at the very least. A lifetime without laughter would have been sheer drudgery. It was a testament to my desperation that I agreed to marry him, despite his lack of humor.

Mr. Glass set his teacup down and shifted in his chair. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and I wished we hadn't raised the subject of Eddie at all. I concentrated on sipping my tea until finally Mr. Glass spoke.

"Does the Watchmakers' Guild keep records of previous members?"

"I suppose so, but I'm not sure how helpful their register would be in finding your watchmaker when you don't know his name. I think we can be quite sure it isn't Chronos."

"Agreed." He sighed. "Shall we discuss the route we'll take this afternoon?" He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and moved his teacup aside to make space on the table. The paper turned out to be a map of London.

"Are you sure you're up to going out again this afternoon?" I asked.

His shoulders tensed. "Of course. There's nothing wrong with me."

"But—"

"The map, Miss Steele. Please point out where you think we should go next."

I sighed and studied the map. "We'll try the area south of Hyde Park and over to Westminster," I said, drawing a circle with my finger around the area. "That should be enough for today."

"Out of the way of Oxford Street," he said with a nod of agreement.