Clockwork Princess (The Infernal Devices, #3)(41)

Tessa nodded, gravely acknowledging the potential rodent issue. “But isn’t it a bit flattering that he went to such lengths just to see you?”

Sophie sat up straight. “It’s not flattering. He is not thinking. He is a Shadowhunter, and I am a mundane. I can expect nothing from him. In the best of all possible worlds, he might offer to take me as a mistress while he marries a Shadowhunter girl.”

Tessa’s throat tightened, remembering Will on the roof, offering her just that, offering her shame and disgrace, and how small she had felt, how worthless. It had been a lie, but the memory still held pain.

“No,” Sophie said, looking back down at her red, work-roughened hands. “It is better that I never entertain the idea. That way there will be no disappointment.”

“I think the Lightwoods are better men than that,” Tessa offered.

Sophie brushed her hair back from her face, her fingers lightly touching the scar that bisected her cheek. “Sometimes I think there are no better men than that.”

Neither Gideon nor Gabriel spoke as their carriage rattled back through the streets of the West End to the Institute. The rain was pouring down now, rattling the carriage so noisily that Gabriel doubted anyone would have heard him if he had spoken.

Gideon was studying his shoes, and did not look up as they rolled back to the Institute. As it loomed up out of the rain, the Consul reached across Gabriel and opened the door for them to exit.

“I trust you boys,” he said. “Now go make Charlotte trust you too. And tell no one of our discussion. As far as this afternoon is concerned, you spent it with the Brothers.”

Gideon climbed down out of the carriage without another word, and Gabriel followed him. The landau swung around and rattled off into the gray London afternoon. The sky was black and yellow, the drizzle as heavy as lead pellets, the fog so thick that Gabriel could barely see the Institute gates as they swung shut behind the carriage. He certainly didn’t see his brother’s hands as they darted forward, seized him by the collar of his jacket, and dragged him halfway around the side of the Institute.

He nearly fell as Gideon pushed him up against the stone wall of the old church. They were near the stables, half-hidden from view by one of the buttresses, but not protected from the rain. Cold drops assaulted Gabriel’s head and neck and slid into his shirt. “Gideon—,” he protested, slipping on the muddy flagstones.

“Be quiet.” Gideon’s eyes were huge and gray in the dull light, barely tinged with green.

“You’re right.” Gabriel dropped his voice. “We should organize our story. When they ask us what we did this afternoon, we must be in perfect accord in our answer, or it will not be believable—”

“I said be quiet.” Gideon slammed his brother’s shoulders back against the wall, hard enough for Gabriel to let out a gasp of pain. “We are not going to tell Charlotte of our conversation with the Consul. But neither are we going to spy on her. Gabriel, you are my brother, and I love you. I would do anything to protect you. But I will not sell out your soul and mine.”

Gabriel looked at his brother. Rain soaked Gideon’s hair and dripped into the collar of his coat. “We could die on the street if we refuse to do what the Consul says.”

“I am not going to lie to Charlotte,” said Gideon.

“Gideon—”

“Did you see the look on the Consul’s face?” Gideon interrupted. “When we agreed to spy for him, to betray the generosity of the house that hosts us? He was not in the least surprised. He never had a moment’s doubt about us. He expects nothing but treachery from Lightwoods. That is our birthright.” His hands tightened on Gabriel’s arms. “There is more to life than surviving,” he said. “We have honor, we are Nephilim. If he takes that, we truly have nothing.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked. “Why are you so sure that Charlotte’s side is the right one?”

“Because our father’s was not,” said Gideon. “Because I know Charlotte. Because I have lived among these people for months and they are good people. Because Charlotte Branwell has been nothing but kind to me. And Sophie loves her.”

“And you love Sophie.”

Gideon’s mouth tensed.

“She’s a mundane and a servant,” said Gabriel. “I don’t know what you expect to come of it, Gideon.”

“Nothing,” Gideon said roughly. “I expect nothing. But the fact that you believe I should shows that our father brought us up to believe that we should do right only if some reward was the result. I will not betray the word I have given Charlotte; that is the situation, Gabriel. If you do not want a part of it, I will send you to live with Tatiana and the Blackthorns. I am sure they will take you in. But I will not lie to Charlotte.”

“Yes, you will,” said Gabriel. “We are both going to lie to Charlotte. But we are going to lie to the Consul, too.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes. Rainwater dripped off his eyelashes. “What do you mean?”

“We will do as the Consul says and read Charlotte’s correspondence. Then we will report to him, but the reports will be false.”

“If we are going to give him false reports anyway, why read her correspondence?”

“To know what not to say,” Gabriel said, tasting dampness in his mouth. It tasted as if it had dripped from the Institute roof, bitter and dirty. “To avoid accidentally telling him the truth.”