The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(79)

"I think I might be able to help you with his name," I said. "He told me that Mr. Glass was involved in his younger brother's death."

"Could be anyone," Willie muttered.

Matt glared at her, and she shrugged before glancing at me and wincing.

"His brother was a member of your grandfather's posse," I said.

"So you know about him," Matt said flatly.

"I do."

He lowered his gaze and rubbed his forehead. After a moment, he turned to the commissioner. "Given that information, I suspect Dorchester is one Patrick McTierney. Have your men wire their sketch to the Lake Valley sheriff. He's a good man, and Patrick McTierney's family lives in his jurisdiction."

"God damn it," Willie said on a breath. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and shook her head. "We always feared he'd come for you, sooner or later. Never thought it'd be here."

"You never met the fellow?" Munro asked.

"Not Patrick," Matt said. "It's true that his younger brother was part of our grandfather's posse." He spoke to me, not Munro. "My evidence got him arrested and he was hanged for his crimes."

"They were supposed to go easy on him, on account of his age," Willie said heavily. "They didn't."

There must be more to the story but I didn't ask questions, and Matt didn't offer answers. I may never get them. Never find out if he had killed his grandfather in cold blood, or how he felt about it. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

The three of us climbed out of the carriage, but Munro held Matt back. "You may tell her as much as you think she needs to know. I agree with your assessment—she's proven her worth."

Matt nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll be in touch."

"If you're staying in London, I have some work in mind for you." The commissioner touched the brim of his cap. "For now, enjoy your freedom."

The front door opened and Miss Glass stood there, back straight, head high. "Finally! You're home! Now, what did you bring me, you naughty man?"

Matt climbed the steps and drew her into a hug. She patted him gently on the back. "What do you mean, bring you?" he asked.

"From your travels," she said. "Harry, do you mean to say you've been all over the world and haven't brought me back so much as a hairpin?"

He hugged her again. "It's in my luggage, arriving tomorrow."

She clapped her hands and grinned. "Ooh, I can't wait to see what it is."

We all retired to our rooms to freshen up and change for dinner prepared by Polly. I didn't expect to see Matt at all, thinking he would go straight to bed to rest, but he was down before me, waiting by the dinner gong, alone.

"I haven't had a chance to thank you yet," he said quietly.

"There's no need."

"There's every need." He took my hands in his and my heart skid to a halt. He leaned in. He smelled like lavender and spices, a scent uniquely his. "Thank you, India. You saved my life today, and I will never forget it." His lips pressed to my forehead and lingered for far longer than decency dictated.

I didn't move. I was frozen to the spot. I clung onto his hands and felt his fingers squeeze mine. My heart lifted, but I quickly dampened it. This was real life, not a fairytale. He was grateful, yes, but that was all.

"I owe you an explanation," he said, pulling away.

I nodded, my heart still in my throat where it seemed to have moved permanently. "Do you work for that famous American detective agency? Pink something? I've heard about them."

"Pinkertons. No, I'm my own agent, but you could say my role is similar to what the Pinkertons do. I specialize in apprehending outlaws of the western states and territories. Because of my family connections, I have knowledge the lawmen don't. My mother's family is somewhat notorious, and I became embroiled in that life after I returned to them upon my parents' deaths. I got out eventually, as did Willie."

And now he was bringing them to justice. It was noble and yet sinister as well. They were his family, after all.

"It makes family reunions awkward." He smiled tentatively, as if trying to gauge my reaction to his dark joke. I smiled back, but it lacked warmth. I wasn't sure how I felt about his work yet. "I have contacts with the local law enforcers, so when I told them I was coming to London, one of them gave my details to Commissioner Munro, suggesting my services could be of use to him. Infiltrating criminal gangs is my specialty, you see, and he thought I might be useful while I was here. Munro hadn't taken up the offer, however."

"So the Dark Rider followed you to England, not the other way round."

He nodded.

"Was he the intruder too?"

"I believe so now, though I didn't suspect him at the time. I have no proof, however. I don't know how he knew where to find me. Perhaps he haunted the gambling houses where poker is played and followed Willie home, one night. I've sensed that we were being followed for some days."

"Hence your constant peering through windows." I'd just had a thought. Dorchester—McTierney—must have followed me too, after I came to work for Matt. It explained why he'd been outside the butcher's shop with an umbrella at precisely the same time as me. Ice chilled my veins and I shivered. "Why not just shoot you in the street?" I asked.