Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(55)

He sobered almost instantly, and Elsie regretted being the cause of it. His green eyes shifted back and forth, as though reading his memories like lines in a book. “No. No, I don’t.” He frowned.

“Well, we know what the rune looks like.”

He nodded. “The London Physical Atheneum should have what we’re looking for.”

“You said we.” She stuck her finger out as though accusing him. “That means I’m coming. A gentleman doesn’t recant his word, Mr. Kelsey.”

His lip quirked. It wasn’t as warming as his true smile, but Elsie would take what she could get. “Of course. I certainly won’t strand you here. Miss Camden, I may very well owe you my life.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” But she flushed despite her words. “I’m rather tired of that carriage, but I would like to leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes.” He turned. “As soon as we find John and Rainer.”

“We’ll have plenty to do while we wait,” she said and, when he turned back, added, “You have a great deal of accounting to teach me, Mr. Kelsey, if our story is to be believed when I return home.”

He smiled at her, halfway between a lip quirk and his full, beaming smile. “You’re correct. How good are you with ratios?”

The thread on her sleeve bothered her now, so she strode to the valise on the back of the carriage to retrieve her sewing kit. “I don’t use them often, so I suppose we can start there, and I’ll sound very educated to Mr. Ogden.”

Unclipping her valise, Elsie cracked it open—the last thing she needed was Bacchus peeking over and seeing her underthings or the like. She rifled about for her miniature sewing kit and, specifically, the pair of scissors inside it. Her finger touched a sharp corner, and she grabbed it, but it was too narrow to be the kit, and her novel reader was at the top of her belongings. Curious, she grabbed the thing and pulled it free.

All the blood that had ambled into her face during the last half hour sank back down. She knew this gray parchment. Didn’t even have to check the seal before opening the letter.

Did they follow me here?

She hadn’t seen the letter at the inn last night, but she hadn’t exactly rooted through her valise when getting dressed this morning.

There is a weapons shed in Colchester with enchanted arms. The constable there is unkind to those who can’t pay his bribes. He would do well with less power.

There was an address and a five-pound bill—five pounds!—in the letter as well. Elsie’s pulse picked up. She’d already passed through Colchester. Had her mysterious contact intended for her to do it then?

They’d pass through again, on the way home. But what excuse could she give Bacchus for having to make a stop, and without his company? Five pounds . . . this was to cover all her expenses privately.

Her heart sank. She wanted to know about Bacchus’s rune. Wanted to unravel the mystery beside him. Wanted to share his carriage. It was a strange feeling . . . In the past she had never been anything but excited to carry out the Cowls’ orders. But right now . . .

“What is that?” Bacchus asked, peering over her shoulder.

She shoved the letter beneath the waistline of her skirt. “Oh, Mr. Kelsey, I’m afraid I won’t be able to go after all.” Disappointment dripped down her limbs like the misty rain surrounding them.

Mr. Kelsey came around the carriage. “What do you mean? What was that letter?”

She puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips. “It’s private correspondence.”

“But you only broke the seal now?” He looked over her head—following his gaze, Elsie spied Rainer at the end of the road.

Ignoring the comment, she said, “I need to go to . . . Hadleigh. I forgot to mention it. It came up after your visit on Sunday.” She tugged her valise free of the carriage.

“Hadleigh?” His brows drew together. “Where is that?”

“West. Out of the way.” She turned toward him, the handle of her valise clutched in both her hands. “I’ll take a separate cab.”

His look was incredulous. “How far west? I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much of a bother—”

“You need to get to London,” she insisted, quieter. Looking at him with tense eyes. Just do it, she pleaded. “You need to find out what that spell is. And I have to do this alone.”

He frowned. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I don’t believe you have a say in the matter.”

Those words added a hard line down the center of his forehead. “What I mean is, it’s not safe to travel alone.”

“Then I’ll take an omnibus instead. Or the train.”

“I don’t und—”

“Bacchus.” Her voice was hard but hushed, and she stepped in closer to be sure he heard her. “Please. I need to do this, and I cannot explain. I will get home safely. I’ll even send a telegram. I’m asking you not to fight me on this.”

He hesitated, looking her up and down. “This has something to do with the doorknob, doesn’t it?”

The doorknob with the heat spell. The one she’d been unraveling when he caught her.

She said nothing.

He stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose as though a headache had erupted there. “Elsie—”