The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(26)

"It is," Mr. Glass said with a flat smile. "Now, Miss Steele, please tell us about yourself."

His sudden change of topic didn't surprise me, but turning it on to me did. "There's nothing to tell. I'm quite dull."

"I find that hard to believe. The watch and clock business here in London seems lively. Everyone seems to know everyone else. Is that how your parents met? Was your mother from a watchmaking family?"

Ah, now I understood. He was fishing for information about my other grandfather, in the hope he might be the watchmaker he sought. It would seem I was only of interest to Mr. Glass in relation to his glowing watch. It stung a little to realize that, but I shouldn't have been surprised. My life was dull, and so was I, by extension. "My mother's father was a confectioner. He had a shop near where my father lived growing up. Father bought sweets every day just so he could speak to her."

Mr. Glass smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but Willie got in first. "Delightful," she said in a dreadful attempt at an English accent. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going out." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, plucked the napkin off her lap, and stood.

"Is that wise, Willie?" Mr. Glass asked darkly.

"Nope, but being wise is for virgins and dullards." She tossed me a smile.

"It's also for the living." I smiled back at her. "And those who wish to remain so. Enjoy your evening, Willie."

Instead of looking offended, Willie's grin broadened. She squared up to face me. "Care to join me, Miss Steele? I could teach you how to win at poker."

"No," Mr. Glass snapped before I got a chance to speak. "Miss Steele does not care to join you for poker. Nor should you be out playing all night. It's not safe, and it's not seemly. Things are different here in England."

She snorted. "That's true. But one thing is the same, Matt—I am a free woman who can do as she pleases. Goodnight, all. Enjoy your evening of reading and polite conversation. I'm off to win me some English money."

"If you're not back by dawn, I'm coming to fetch you," Mr. Glass called after her.

She gave him a rude hand gesture that I'd only ever seen youths give to constables behind their backs.

"Forgive me, Miss Steele," he said once Willie was out of earshot. "I shouldn't have answered for you."

Yet it had seemed like a natural thing for him to do. Perhaps he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Except by Willie.

"I don't have to watch my cousin back home," he said. "She plays poker with a group of regulars, most nights. None would dare harm her."

"Why?"

His mouth worked, but no words came out.

Cyclops answered for him. "They're scared of Matt."

I blanched. I'd expected to hear that they were scared of Willie, not her rather charming cousin. I tried to think of something to say, but in the end, I simply kept silent.

Mr. Glass laughed and waved off Cyclops's answer. Cyclops scowled in return. "I'm worried Willie's smart mouth will get her into trouble," Mr. Glass told me.

"She seems like the sort who can get herself out of trouble well enough," I said.

"You should let her hear you say that. She'd like you more for it." He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. "The class of men she's playing against here are more cunning than the cowboys she's used to. They act all charming and gentlemanly, but they're not. They're devious."

I wondered if he was speaking from direct experience or observation only. He hadn't been on our shores long, but he'd clearly come into contact with charming gentlemen who turned out to be devious.

The similarity to himself struck me like a blow. He may not be English, but he was acting the part of a gentleman around me. The more I got to know him, the more I suspected it was all a charade. Few open, innocent gentlemen could thrash three armed thugs, or instill fear in American cowboys. An outlaw, on the other hand, could.

"Willie'll be fine," Duke said to Mr. Glass. "If she gets arrested, we'll just crack her out of jail like we did that time in Tombstone."

I gasped. "You broke her out of jail? Or a cemetery?"

"Holding cell," Cyclops said with a shrug. "Tombstone is a town."

"Strange name for a town."

"Willie was innocent," Duke assured me.

Good lord. I felt as if I'd stepped into a sensation novel.

"Apologies, Miss Steele. I see we've alarmed you," Mr. Glass said.

"Not at all. I'm not easily alarmed."

"So I've seen," he said with a hint of admiration and a warm smile. "Few women would have had the presence of mind to trip a man up when she was cornered. Indeed, most would have spent the rest of the day recovering from the ordeal you endured this morning."

"I suppose." I couldn't look at him. His praise was too much, and that intense look in his eyes was back again, as if he were reliving the moment he'd parted my corset and laid his hands on my bare skin.

"A brave lady," Cyclops said, raising his glass in salute. "You'd be well suited to the Wild West, Miss Steele."

"Thank you, but it sounds a little too wild for my tastes."