The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(7)

He sipped his tea, and I had to suppress a giggle. He looked out of place in a room full of mostly women, a pretty floral teacup in one hand and a pastry in the other. I wondered if he did this sort of thing in America. If I had to guess, I'd say he was a gentleman farmer with those brown hands of his.

"Do you mind if I start asking you questions now?" he said.

"Go ahead. It's why I'm here."

He set the cup down carefully, as if he were afraid he'd break it. He stared at the contents for a moment, and when he looked up, that intense stare he'd given me earlier in the day returned. A shiver trickled down my spine and chilled my skin. I couldn't make up my mind if I liked being looked at in such a way. "How old was your father?" he asked.

That was an odd question to begin with. "Forty-nine. Why?"

He sat back in the chair with a softly muttered, "Damn it."

"Why?" I repeated. "And why do you want to know about my father anyway? What has it got to do with buying yourself a new watch?"

His lips twitched at the corners, but he didn't break into a full smile. "A full stomach makes you curious."

I arched my brow and waited for an answer.

He leaned forward again and picked up his teacup. "I'm trying to find a man I met five years ago. He was a watchmaker and made a watch for me that now requires fixing."

"Has it stopped working?"

"It's slowing down."

"You've tried winding it?"

"Do I look like a fool?"

"My apologies." I sipped my tea and kept my eyes averted. I heard him sigh again and he shifted in the chair, as if he were regretting asking me to tea. "Why didn't you show your watch to Eddie?" I asked. "He might have been able to fix it."

"Not this watch."

"Why not? Is it American? Some American watches are different to ours, but a good watchmaker can work out what needs correcting without damaging the mechanisms. Eddie isn't a bad watchmaker, he's just limited in the types he can repair. He wasn't apprenticed to my father. Would you like me to look at it? I can assure you, I may be a mere woman, but I was apprenticed to the best watchmaker in the city, perhaps the country. The only reason I wasn't allowed into the guild and am not able to call myself a master watchmaker is because of their archaic rules that don't allow female members. It was why—"

"Miss Steele." He held up his hand for me to stop. I bit my tongue. "Thank you for your offer, but this watch is a special one. The original maker is the only one in the world who can repair it."

"That's rather arrogant of him, to make such a claim."

"Nevertheless, I'd like to find him."

I was about to press him to show it to me, but decided against it. It made no difference to me if he thought only one person could repair it. "Tell me about this arrogant watchmaker. So far, he fits the description of several men in the guild."

He seemed to find that amusing. He smiled, and his shoulders relaxed. "I admit that I've been running all over London without really knowing what I'm doing and where I'm going." He sat forward. "Would you mind helping me narrow my search?"

"I would be delighted. I take it you don't know his name."

"He called himself Chronos."

"The Greek God of Time? We can add ridiculous to arrogant. Go on."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I met him in a saloon in New Mexico, five years ago. He was English and told me he came from London." His eyes suddenly shadowed, and he turned serious as he studied the teacup. "He was an old man then, so it couldn't have been your father."

"Father has never left England anyway. He's lived above that shop all his life, as his father did, and his father too. Now Eddie has it," I spat.

His gaze sharpened. "Your grandfather is a watchmaker?"

"He was. He's dead."

He stared at me, unblinking. I shrank back from the force of it. "When did he die?"

"Before I was born, so he couldn't have been your mysterious Chronos either."

He passed a hand over his eyes and down his face then blew out a breath. It must be a very special watch indeed to elicit such a reaction. I could feel his anxiety from across the table.

"Let me see if I have this correct," I said. "Five years ago, you were given a watch by an Englishman in America who claims that no one else can fix it. You refuse to let anyone else attempt to fix it, so you traveled all this way to find him. You don't know his name, or where he lived in London specifically, and you only know that he must be old."

"You have it," he said, absently patting his coat pocket.

I did not mention the fact that he could be dead. No doubt he'd thought of that, and I didn't want to see disappointment shadow that handsome face. "Then you have come to the right person. I know every important watchmaker in London, and most unimportant ones too."

"I had a feeling you would be able to help me," he said. "I'll pay you for your time, of course. It may take several days to locate the right man."

Pay me! Ah, now I understood why he'd chosen me instead of Eddie, or anyone else. He must have sensed my desperation this morning and guessed I had the time to devote to such a scheme. "If you insist," I said as graciously as I could manage while trying to hold back my smile.