Page 50 of Boy of Chaotic Making

Perhaps she wasn’t meant to get a handle on her augury. And thinking on the vision, perhaps she wasn’t meant to have a happy ending, either.

Still, looking into Merritt’s sincere eyes, she believed everything he’d said to her.

That would have to be enough.

Owein waited with Merritt and Hulda in one of the drawing rooms—a funny name for the space, really, since he’d yet to see anyone draw in it. He himself hadn’t had the opportunity to draw in a very long time. Had he been good at it, in his life before? He couldn’t remember.

Lady Helen sat in a blue chair nearby, her spine stiffer than Hulda’s, her hands working and reworking in her lap. She smelled like lilacs. Lilacs and worry, which were scents that didn’t mix well. Perhaps she wore the lilac to mask the worry. And perhaps it worked ... on human noses.

After a long silence—they’d been discussing the virtues of a game called cricket—Lady Helen said, “Are you sure you won’t stay? I will post a guard on the grounds and move your room right next to mine, even. Owein and Cora hardly know one another still, and youdidsuggest a fortnight in the beginning, Mr. Fernsby.”

Merritt smiled. Not his normal smile, but hisI’m trying to look friendly but I’m tiredsmile. “I did, and I would love to, but the situation ... it’s not a comfortable one. To put it lightly.”

He clasped one of Hulda’s hands in both of his own. Hulda seemed ... distracted. Owein found that interesting, since she usually seemed very attentive whenever one of the Englishmen was around. And Lady Helen was right there.

Owein would ask about it, later. He didn’t think Merritt would tell him much if he asked now. But what was really important was that the contract would be signed, and Owein would get a body ... hopefully ... and then they would be going home. There was so much more left to explore here,and part of Owein yearned to do just that, but he missed Whimbrel House, too. He missed Beth, especially.

He didn’t recognize heavy footsteps outside the door and was surprised when Prince Friedrich entered. Owein knew Prince Friedrich’s steps. He never walked that quickly. It was the tempo that had thrown off Owein. Behind him, Mr. Blightree approached as well.

Lady Helen stood, her scent of worry pungent.

“It’s gone.” Prince Friedrich shook his head, flabbergasted. “We can’t find it anywhere. The contract is gone.”

Chapter 19

March 5, 1847, London, England

“Gone?” Merritt repeated, rising from his seat as well. “You mean it’s missing?”

“I had it in the study,” Blightree explained, clasping and unclasping his hands. “I’d recently redrafted it. I need Her Majesty’s approval, of course, but I understand your reasons for departing.” He stepped forward to be better seen. “It’s not there.”

Hulda said, “You misplaced it?”

Blightree shook his head. “I am getting on in years, but I assure you, I left it in Prince Friedrich’s study, which he’s graciously lent to me during my stay.”

Friedrich nodded. “I recall. It was folded in thirds on the left-hand side of my desk.”

Lady Helen shook her head. “But ... a contract doesn’t merely get up and walk away!” She cast an apologetic look toward Merritt, Hulda, and Owein. “We must have simply ...”

She paused. Set her jaw. Grabbing a fistful of skirt, she marched toward the door; Blightree stepped out of her way. After wrenching it open, she must have found a footman or a maid waiting nearby, for she said, “Fetch Lady Briar at once.”

They think Briar took it?Owein asked.

“I guess,” Merritt murmured, catching Hulda’s attention as he did so. “She’s a likely suspect.”

Hulda stood and gently placed her hand on the inside of his elbow. “Well,” she tried, pulling on her business tone, “contracts are not carved into gold. We can simply draft a new one.”

“Aye, we can draft a new one,” Blightree said, “though notsimply. We’ll need to review everything to ensure I haven’t forgotten anything, especially with the new amendments.”

Hulda frowned. “Which we haven’t had a chance to review.”

Blightree nodded. “My apologies, Miss Larkin. Mr. Fernsby, Mr. Mansel. I did not think it necessary to place it in the safe.” He sighed. “It was only a draft.”

“You mentioned it needed to be reviewed by Queen Victoria,” Merritt tried, rubbing the bridge of his nose as a headache began to sprout in his forehead. “If we were to sign it and she didnotapprove it, we would need to review and sign an entirely new draft, correct?”

“Correct,” the necromancer replied.

They can mail it to us,Owein suggested.

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