Page 57 of Apt to be Suspicious
“That’s your requirement, then?” Circe cleared her throat. “That I go see whoever this is?”
“Yes. Will you make oath on it? He’ll— well. He’ll follow up from there.” Edmund thought so, anyway. He’d have a proper report for Major Manse before the meeting, anyway.
Circe sighed dramatically. “All right. Do you have a text for the oath?”
Edmund rummaged in the back of the notebook. He drew out the slip with the template he used for this kind of thing, then a blank sheet of paper. It didn’t take long to copy it and make the necessary modifications. Those included a time limit, that she was to find Edmund at the Academy if the interview did not result in an opportunity for her. And that reporting to the Council was an option if he were not available.
She almost baulked at the last, when she read it. He could see when she’d got there in the text. “This is not a Council matter.”
“No, but Alexander Landry and Gabriel Edgarton are both currently aware of the general issue and that I was planning this conversation.” Not yet a Council matter anyway. That would come. There must be other women in Circe’s general position in the wake of the war, and someone needed to think about that.
Circe sighed, but then she made the oath, with a visible and audible flinch as the Pact caught her magic. She set the page down, her hand shaking for a second. “May I go now?”
“Yes, if you wish. Any train that gets you in by one will give you enough time. Ask for Major James Manse at the door. There will be someone to meet you.” He wrote out the address on the card, the time.
“The fare?” She held out her hand, and Edmund snorted, amused. He had offered, and they had plenty of evidence she was counting her coins carefully.
He added enough to cover the fare in both directions. “Give him my regards.” Circe nodded once, and he released both the charms and the warding on the door. She stood, immediately turning and taking long steps across the floor to the door, her heels clacking slightly on the wood as she went.
Edmund waited until she was not only out the door but out of the building before he pitched his voice. “Master Benton?” Finally, after what felt like days from when he’d started, he could turn to blink at Pen. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, as if she wasn’t sure of several things now.
Behind her, Edmund saw the door open, and Master Benton coming in, with the small trunk for the supplies. Without a comment, he began by re-corking the honey wine and pouring the remaining liquid in the glasses into a jar. “The analysis, sir?”
It took a moment for Edmund to realise that was addressed to him. “Yes, please. If you’d have them let me know by note. Or I could go round if needed.” Papa’s pet alchemists would find it an interesting challenge. And, Edmund expected, also of interest for their ongoing line of research on that class of potions. “The antidote worked well enough.” He thought so anyway, though now he was done with the challenge of it, he could feel his grasp on the world slipping a little.
“Miss Stirling, would you perhaps go downstairs with young master Edmund and see about a cab or cart back to his rooms? I will be down ...” There was a tiny pause, to give the proper number. “Within four minutes with the trunk.”
Pen bobbed up. “Of course. Edmund, do you need to bring anything with you?” He shook his head, though it took him three tries to get the bound volume back in his pocket correctly.
She went ahead of him, holding the door for him, then going slowly enough down the stairs he didn’t feel entirely giddy. Five minutes later, they were loaded in a cab trundling down the street to his digs, and he could focus on keeping himself upright. There were half a dozen things he still needed to do, and he would force his wits to them.
Chapter 36
Later that evening in Edmund’s rooms
Pen hovered. There was no other word for it. Master Benton had smoothly ensured there was an obedient cab. He had manoeuvred Edmund into it, given directions to the Academy, and then to Edmund’s rooms. At the Academy, he’d disappeared briefly with the trunk before coming back out empty-handed.
Once at their final destination, Master Benton had steered Edmund to the door, then opened the warding as easily as Edmund had on her earlier visit. They’d disappeared into what must be the bedroom, and Pen was hovering in the doorway of the sitting room.
She did not want to leave. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure if she could leave without upsetting the warding. Neither man had objected to her coming along. Not that Edmund had been in a fit state to object to much.
He’d looked utterly drained, the way she gathered people looked after their Honour Mods exam. He’d said nothing on the ride, though admittedly that might have been out of consideration for the Pact. Master Benton had said nothing either, beyond the directions.
Now Pen didn’t want to sit. That might be too much presumption. She didn’t want to stand. She wanted, honestly, to ask a lot of questions that were entirely impertinent and none of her business. After ten minutes, she retreated to the sofa to perch on the edge and pretend to read a book.
Perhaps twenty minutes later, Master Benton emerged, leaving the bedroom door a crack open. “Young Master Edmund is sleeping. Thank you for your assistance this evening.”
“I didn’t do much.” Pen looked at him, and added a bit warily, “Sir.” Then she peered around him— he was standing in the doorway of the sitting room. “Is there anything I can do to help? I—” She had to think through this. She could probably write to Audrey and arrange to stay. “Do you need to get back to where...” Her voice trailed off, and she tried again. “Does he need someone to be handy tonight?”
There was a thoughtful silence, as if the older man was weighing half a dozen considerations. “I am given to understand it is more difficult for a woman undergraduate to be out of her rooms overnight, Miss Stirling. We would not want to put you to that sort of trouble.” She was fairly sure he was speaking for Edmund as well.
“I, um. I have an arrangement with someone on my staircase.” She did, though this was not remotely how she’d expected to use it. “If it wouldn’t be a problem for Edmund. Or his landlady?”
“A more relaxed consideration. She will be by with breakfast and the morning paper. There are some supplemental food items in the kitchen. I expected that this evening might be draining.”
Pen glanced toward the bedroom. “Is there— I mean? Anything to worry about?”
“No.” Master Benton tilted his head, then went on, his tone deliberately warm, she thought. “I have been privileged to serve the family since 1915, Miss Stirling. It has given me long experience with their needs and habits. A good night’s rest and a substantial breakfast should be quite restorative. There’s a stock of potions if something more is required. Young Master Edmund insisted on sending preliminary notes about the evening before he would rest. But I would be grateful to know that someone was available if he needed a hand in the night. As his parents will be.”
