Page 87 of The Journal of a Thousand Years
“You don’t know?”
“I received a letter—” He cut himself off as Mr. Jakes emerged through the throng. “Jakes. Can you shed some light on all this?”
Mr. Jakes plucked out a letter from his jacket pocket. “I received this from an anonymous source.”
“I received one, too.” Lady Stanhope withdrew a letter and a black silk fan from her purse. She handed the letter to Gabe and flapped the fan in front of her face.
Gabe lowered the letter so I could read it, too. It was written in the same handwriting as the one we’d received, but was unsigned. It invited Lady Stanhope to Farringdon Street at the Holborn Viaduct to witness Gabe’s magic for herself.
“He ain’t a magician,” Willie made sure to say when she read that part.
Lady Stanhope turned her back to Willie and tried to hustle Gabe away from us. He stood his ground.
“Jakes, you need to stop this,” Willie said. “Someone’s trying to kill Gabe.”
“Who?” Mr. Jakes asked.
Gabe glowered at Willie. She kept her mouth shut.
Mr. Jakes showed his letter to Gabe. “Mine is identical. According to the members of the press I spoke to, they received letters, too. The rest of this crowd is made up of passersby who realized something of interest was about to happen so have stayed to watch.”
Gabe looked around at the faces turned toward him with curious expressions. As more in the crowd realized who he was, a hush fell over them. The only sounds came from the rumble of a train pulling away from the nearby station and the traffic trying to pass under the viaduct.
Lady Stanhope reached up a hand gloved in black lace and raked Gabe’s cheek. “You look pale, dearest Gabriel. Are you ill? Why haven’t you done something about it?”
“I’ve been resting.”
“Let’s not play this game anymore. You know that I know about your…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “…magic.”
“You know nothing!” Willie spat.
Lady Stanhope flapped her fan at her face, ignoring Willie. “Heal yourself, Gabriel. Do it where no one can see, obviously. Not here. At home, in private. Oh, I have an idea! Come to the countryside with me. I leave next week. I have a large manor with lovely gardens. It’s so peaceful.” She struck his arm with her fan as a thought struck her. “I can introduce you to some very eligible ladies.”
Gabe’s lips tightened in pain. She’d tapped the knife wound inflicted by Thurlow. “I don’t need an eligible lady. I already have?—”
“Pish posh. I know a very pretty, veryworthygirl.” As if anyone were in any doubt that she was implying I wasunworthy, she deliberately angled herself between Gabe and me, presenting me with her back. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you while you heal yourself with your magic.”
The muscle in his jaw bunched as he clenched his back teeth. “You are quite wrong, Lady Stanhope. I can’t heal myself with magic. The doctor has prescribed rest.”
She struck him again with her fan. “Gabriel, dear, I am not a fool. I know you can heal yourself. It’s the only explanation for your miraculous survival.”
“A lot of luck is the explanation. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
She went to tap him again with her fan, but he caught it. “I have stitches there.”
She eyed him carefully, if somewhat skeptically, before laughing like a schoolgirl. “Surely you joke. You wouldn’t need stitches. Your magic?—”
“Is non-existent. I would remove my shirt right here and show you if I thought Jakes wouldn’t add a note to my file that I was mad. He’s from Military Intelligence,” he clarified.
Now that he’d been brought into the discussion, Mr. Jakes stepped forward. “Madam, I have studied Mr. Glass far deeper than you, and I can assure you, hecan’theal himself.”
She froze. Only her throat worked with her hard swallow.
I was rather looking forward to seeing how she responded, but a flurry of activity and whispers drew everyone’s attention to the viaduct itself. Above us, Stanley Greville stood on the iron railing, an arm around the central lamppost for support. Rather fittingly, the bronze statues on either side of him depicted Fine Art holding what appeared to be a sketchbook, and Science with her scientific equipment.
“Don’t come any closer!” Stanley shouted to the small crowd of pedestrians on the viaduct with him.
A constable stood among them and, realizing what was happening, tried to halt the traffic and urge the pedestrians to give Stanley space. Stanley ordered them further away. He didn’t want anyone stopping him.
