The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(43)

I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping I didn't push up my bust more. "I know why you asked me to remain."

"I very much doubt that you do, Miss Steele." He swallowed loudly and rubbed a hand over his face. I suspected he was tired, but at least he didn't look exhausted to the point of illness.

"Then why?"

He set his cup down on the table and placed his palms flat on either side of it. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I asked you to stay back because I need to talk to you." Finally, he would explain about his mysterious illness and the watch! "I think it's best if you leave tomorrow."

"Pardon?"

"I'm severing our arrangement."

No. He wouldn't. Surely he knew how much I needed employment, and somewhere to live for a few days. Surely he saw that I had nothing and nowhere to go. "But…you can't! You've paid me in advance."

"Keep the money. But you can't stay here. It's too dangerous."

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. "Because of one intruder?"

He continued to avoid looking at me.

"It wasn't merely a burglar, was it?" I prompted.

"You can go back to the Masons," he said quickly. "Or secure new lodgings tomorrow. You'll find other employment soon enough too, I'm certain of it. You're a remarkable woman and—"

I stood abruptly. The stool's feet scraped on the flagstone floor. He finally met my gaze, but I found I could no longer meet his. It was all I could do to hold myself together and not burst into tears at the hopelessness of it all, at the heavy weight once again settling on my shoulders, trying to push me down into the floor.

He stood too. "Say something, Miss Steele. You can shout if you like. In fact, I wish you would."

"What of your aunt?"

He blinked. "You have no home to go to, yet you're worried about Aunt Letitia?"

"I am employable, Mr. Glass. I haven't had much luck yet, but it will turn soon. There must be a shopkeeper in London in need of an assistant. But your aunt is vulnerable. I doubt she can look after herself properly. I wouldn't want her to return to her brother's house when you leave."

"She won't."

"Does she have other relatives? Friends?"

"None that I know of." He pressed his knuckles on the table and lowered his head between his shoulders. I waited, but I wasn't really sure what for. I knew I ought to take Miss Glass her chocolate, but something kept me rooted to the spot. "Damn it!" he finally growled. "You can't stay here, Miss Steele. Don't you understand? It's enough that I have the welfare of Cyclops, Willie and Duke on my hands. They can at least defend themselves."

"Tell me about the intruder."

"It's better for you if you don't know too much."

"You're deciding what's best for me now?"

"I'm deciding what's safest for you, yes."

"I do wish you wouldn't treat me like a child or a simpleton. I'm neither."

"I'm very aware of that." His dark lashes lifted, casting shadows over his eyes as he watched me for a long time.

I bore it with what I hoped was defiance, while everything inside me wanted to shrivel up. I was about to be cast out on my own—again—without employment or accommodation. Living with outlaws suddenly seemed the lesser of two evils. I wanted to stay, very much. "Please don't do this," I said simply.

"Damn," he said on a sigh. "You're very persuasive."

I was?

"Do you still sleep with that knife?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Continue to do so. You can stay until Tuesday. My aunt too. I'll consider what to do with her in the meantime." He picked up our empty cups and stalked into the scullery. "Goodnight, Miss Steele."

"Goodnight, Mr. Glass." I left the kitchen with the chocolate pot and cup. My heart was still hammering by the time I reached Miss Glass's room.



Mr. Glass, Duke, Willie and Cyclops went out after breakfast, and it had nothing to do with finding Mr. Mirth, so I was informed. They wouldn't tell me where they were going, but I suspected it concerned the intruder Willie had shot at.

I spent the morning getting to know Miss Glass better as two charwomen worked in the other rooms. Indeed, I found her eager to discuss her family, and it took little prompting from me to discover her father had been just as horrid as her older brother. The free-spirited and kind-hearted Harry, the youngest of three siblings, had left the country as soon as he reached his majority.

"He asked me to go with him," she said with a sad smile. "He pleaded with me, in fact. Mama had passed by that time, and Harry was everything to me. I gave it some serious thought, but decided to remain here. Having his spinster sister trail along would have stifled him. He needed to be free more than he needed to breathe. Father and Richard had been so cruel, always telling him he was worthless. As the younger brother, he inherited nothing and had to find his own way in the world. Father wanted him to become a lawyer, but working in an office would have slowly killed Harry's spirit. So he escaped and never came back."

"Was your father angry?"

"Terribly. He flew into a rage after he discovered Harry had left. I was the only one he told, you see, and I kept the secret until after his ship departed."