All is Fair (42 page)

Carter hadn’t obeyed his order, and was looking to Cathy for confirmation. Will felt like he’d come back to the same house but to a slightly different reality.

“You’ve met?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Sam smirked. “He held a sword up to my neck and threatened to kill me if I ever saw you again.”

“You did what?” Cathy turned to face Will.

“And yet here you are,” Will said.

Sam looked him up and down. “You’re looking a bit worse for wear. Did someone fight back?”

“I don’t have to–”

“Stop it, both of you. Sam, are you all right? Has something happened?”

He grinned. “Yeah. I’m Lord Iron now.”

“What does that mean?”

Will didn’t like the way Sam looked at him. He was fearless, and ready to fight. He could see it in his stance, the way his fists were partially curled. He felt unprepared and uncertain of Carter’s loyalty.

“It means you don’t have to stay here any more.” Sam smiled and held out his hand. “I break their magic now. I’ve just been to Exilium and freed those dancers we found – do you remember them? I got that memory back that Poppy took from me and that time debt he screwed out of me too. They’re terrified of me there, Cathy. If you come with me now, there’s nothing any of the sodding Fae can do about it, not any of their people.” He looked at Will. “Not even him.”

Will couldn’t believe a man would dare come into his house and try to take his wife away right in front of him! Was he still in that awful black box, dreaming, having been driven mad by the Sorcerer?

It seemed Cathy didn’t believe him either. At least she wasn’t moving towards him. She was staring at Sam’s hand, frowning.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. Before she answered, he went to one of the globes held in an ornate light fitting. He reached up towards it and the sprite inside dulled noticeably. When his finger touched the glass the tiny creature cowered away as far as the globe would allow, barely casting any light at all.

“I believe you,” she said. “But I told you, Sam, I’m not going to run away.”

“I know you said that.” His hand dropped to his side. “But it must be because this twat put a spell on you.”

“What did you call me?”

Sam ignored him. “I can break it. Just take my hand and all of their curses, all of the stuff they’ve done to you will be broken. And I’ll keep you safe.”

Cathy sniffed. “I’ve heard that before. How could you do that?”

“They can’t come near me, nor anyone under my protection.”

“So my safety would be dependent on you?” Cathy shook her head. “You want me to come and live in your cage instead?”

“No, it’s not like that!”

Will stared at her. Was that all this life was to her? A cage?

She looked at him then, saw the hurt in his eyes and her face softened. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “There’s too much to do.”

“Listen to me,” Sam said. “My wife thought she could change things, and she put herself in danger every day and you know what happened to her.”

“I’m not your wife,” Cathy said gently.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam’s voice was louder. “We can stop all of this! We can get your friends, all of the wives treated like shit, like you are, and we can get them out of the Nether and the Fae won’t be able to do a damn thing about it! You know what they do, how they steal people. If we worked together, we could stop it! The Sorcerers and the Arbiters don’t give a fuck about people but we do!”

“We could stop the Agency,” Cathy whispered.

Will brushed the back of her waist with his hand. “He wants to throw everything into chaos. If the Agency collapsed, hundreds of people would be left without any idea of how to care for themselves. Only a small fraction of their staff understand Mundanus. Destabilising Society would only encourage the Patroons to be more controlling. This ‘Lord Iron’ can’t be everywhere at once. And what if someone falls out of his favour? Cathy, he’s not offering freedom. He would be in control.”

“I’m offering something better than being owned by some prick from the fucking dark ages who can’t handle the fact his wife might have a male friend.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, shut up! Both of you!” Cathy held up her hands. “Sit down. Let’s talk like adults. Will, I have no idea why you threatened Sam, but there’s no reason for you to be so antagonistic.”

“He wants you back!”

“Back?” Cathy looked at the ceiling and then groaned. “You thought we were lovers? We’re just friends.”

Sam came further into the room and sat on the other chair in front of the fire. Cathy moved away from him, taking care to make sure there was always something between them, as if she feared he would lunge for her. Will felt his fears ease. They weren’t lovers and she was clearly trying to protect the magic bound in their wedding ring. He sat down too.

“Right, let’s get this straight,” she said to Sam. “I don’t want you to break the magic on me, even though the Iris curse is offensive as hell, because there’s other magic – wish magic – that I want to preserve.”

“Poppy told me about that,” Sam said. “He told me you were going to destroy everything because of the third wish you made.”

“He did? But that’s not what I wished for. My wish was to reach my full potential.”

“Well, he thinks you’re potentially destructive. Oh, fuck!” He slapped his hand over his mouth and looked at Will. “He also said you shouldn’t know, because if you tell your patron, he’ll be able to take what he wants from Cathy instead of your baby.”

“I knew he wanted something from our child,” Cathy said. “Well, that settles it. We are never having children, Will.”

Will frowned at the declaration, disturbed by the thought of losing the chance to be a father. “Let’s try not to worry about every single thing at once,” he said, but he was quietly panicking. He couldn’t let anything happen to any child of his, nor to Cathy. Perhaps he needed to accept the help Sam was offering, as galling as it would be. Perhaps fighting the system as Cathy wanted was the only way to keep his family safe. “Tell me more about this wish business,” he said.

“There’s no need to worry, you’ll both be safe, whatever happens.” Cathy grinned at Carter. “You too. The wish was to reach my full potential in such a way that wouldn’t ‘draw the attention of the Arbiters, nor endanger my life, nor that of the individuals I love and care for – be they Fae, a member of the great families or a mundane’. It’s going to be tough, but we’ll be all right.”

Will knew there was a world of difference between endangering someone’s life and simply making their existence miserable. She had a lot more faith in the strength of Poppy’s magic – and its interpretation – than he did.

“But,” Cathy added, “I would appreciate some help, Sam.”

Sam nodded. “I can keep the Fae out for a start, and break any curses put on the staff, that sort of thing. But are you certain you want to stay?” His eyes flicked to Will. “Are you sure he won’t stop you doing what you want to do once I’ve gone?”

Cathy looked at Will and he let her search his face.

“I’m certain,” Cathy said. “Will, you’ll be all right with Sam coming to visit in the future, won’t you?”

Will nodded. It wasn’t the time to complicate things with his doubts and he might need Sam himself. “I’m sorry we got off to a bad start,” he said, mostly for her benefit. “Let’s shake hands whilst I have nothing you can break upon me.”

They stood, shook hands like gentlemen but looked at each other with the hard stare of men who knew nothing had changed at all. Cathy led Sam out, promising to be back soon. Carter followed her and Will was left alone.

Whilst he felt no warmth for the man, having Sam on side could be critical if he was indeed capable of what he claimed. And hearing of Iris planning to take what he wanted – whatever that might be – from his wife or his child made Will’s teeth grind. Why fight to maintain a status quo in which it would be acceptable for either of them to be taken from him? It might not have been the schedule that he would have chosen, but it was clear to him now that there was no way – and now no desire – to find a way back to where they were before.

Morgan brought fresh tea and apologies for taking so long, explaining that he was trying to settle over a hundred people into the household, many of whom had extraordinary needs.

The tea made his lip sting but it was worth it. By the time he was on his second cup, Cathy returned. She looked radiantly happy and then seemed to remember what they were talking about before Sam interrupted.

“So then… what’s it to be, Will? Are you with me?”

Will thought of the first ball of the season, how ungrateful she’d been and how the sight of the bruises on her arms at the Peonias’ soirée had stirred something protective inside him. He recalled the gut-twisting guilt she’d made him feel after they’d married and the countless times she’d irritated him. He remembered the way she’d glowed in the Londinium salons when debating some point of philosophy and how she’d dealt with Freddy’s attentions. He thought of the panic he’d felt when he learned of the attack, and the hours of watching her sleep as she healed, and the smile when he gave her the library. “There’s a huge amount to talk about,” he said, reaching for her hands. “But there’s something I need to tell you first.”

Her brow creased and she let him pull her down to sit on the arm of his chair.

“The next few weeks, no, the next few years are going to be hard, Cathy. I don’t know if we’ll come through this. Lord Iris isn’t going to forget what he wants from us.” She took a breath but he pressed a finger to her lips. “We’ll sort something out, I’m sure. Having a friend like Lord Iron gives me some hope. But before we work out how we make the changes that need to be made, there's something I want you to know.”

She looked frightened for the first time since he’d come back.

“I think you are the bravest, strangest, most infuriating, intelligent and fascinating woman I’ve ever had the privilege to know and…” he paused, uncertain whether to pin a single word to the mess of emotions she stirred in him. “And I love you, Cathy.”

She laughed and a fat teardrop rolled down her cheek. “Oh. All right. That’s better than I thought it would be.” She looked up, nervous.

“What is it?”

“I was just waiting for a piano to fall on my head or something.” There was a knock at the door and she jumped to her feet. “Come in.”

A woman walked in, pale and red-eyed as if she’d been crying. She was dressed like a maid, her brown hair tied back in a bun, but she didn’t curtsy and look away like a maid would.

“Will,” said Cathy, “I want to introduce you to someone. This is Miss Rainer. She was my governess and she’s the bravest person I know. Miss Rainer, this is Will, my husband.”

Will kissed her hand, thinking it best to treat her as royalty, given the way Cathy clearly adored her.

Cathy gestured for Miss Rainer to sit. As she did so, Cathy leaned over and whispered, “I love you too” in his ear. Then, blushing, she tugged at her sleeves nervously and picked up the teapot. “Tea?”

29

Margritte listened to the scratching sound and tried to imagine it was something other than a rat. In the darkness, the sound could only come from claws against stone, and with thoughts of the claws came thoughts of the teeth and the whiskers and she drew her knees up under her chin. She must be imagining it. There weren’t any animals in the Nether.

She couldn’t stop shivering. The tower room was freezing cold, so much so that she wondered if it had been cursed, and the damp from the stones beneath her was leaching into her bones. It wasn’t just the cold though. She was frightened, more so than she’d ever been in her life, even more than the time she and Rupert were nearly killed.

What could have happened to Rupert? He seemed invulnerable. Had Ekstrand finally managed to kill him? Was it yet another disastrous repercussion of her poor judgement? She thought of his awful manners and strange affection for her. She couldn’t decide how she felt about his death. She was saddened, but not grief-stricken. She didn’t really know him and they were at odds with each other when they parted. The interruption from the gargoyle was a relief at the time. Now Oxenford was in the hands of Nathaniel Iris, she wished Rupert was still alive.

Just the thought of Nathaniel made the shivering worse. After exiling her son – something for which she was grateful – he’d marched her out of the Sheldonian, his fist in her hair, making her stumble as she tried to walk without him ripping it from her scalp. He threw her in a carriage at the end of Broad Street and climbed in with her, forcing her onto her knees inside as they rode to the end of the city.

He made her watch as one of Lord Iris’ faeries made a new road to Oxford Castle, a property outside the boundaries of Oxenford, and then made her walk along it as he held her hands behind her back.

“My ancestor built this,” he said as they arrived at the newly reflected castle. “Lord Iris was very disappointed when he learned its anchors had been destroyed. He was delighted to restore them for me. A fitting place for my rule, I feel.”

“I find it interesting that your brother was named after the conqueror, rather than you,” she’d said. He’d pinned her wrists higher up her back the rest of the way. It had hurt so much but she didn’t cry. Neither did she when they reached the castle and he showed her the tower. Even the mundanes had felt the evil of the place; she knew the anchor property had been a prison for hundreds of years.

“You’ll rot in here,” he said as he threw her in. “Unless,” he said through the grill in the door after he’d locked it, “I can find another use for you.” He’d looked at her breasts then, and below her waist, as if seeing through the black satin. For a moment, he looked as if he was going to unlock the door again, but someone called his name and he left, taking the only light with him.

The darkness was welcome then, but not any more. I deserve this, she thought. I should have let it go. She remembered Bartholomew teaching Alexander that it was better to rise above a feud than fuel it. Why hadn’t she listened to that herself?

“Bartholomew,” she whispered, needing to hear his name in the darkness. She tried to remember what her name sounded like when he spoke it but all she could hear was the awful scratching claws.