Page 27 of Harmonic Pleasure (Mysterious Arts #6)

LATER THAT AFTERNOON

B y the time Vega opened the door to her rooms, she was freezing. Shivering, the sort of bone-deep cold she hadn’t felt in ages. Not since she’d helped several of her uncles with a problem out on Salisbury Plain proper, something where the magic had gone twisted. “Tea?”

“Your landlady?” Farran asked, though he’d come in behind her.

“I need to be at the club by seven. As long as you leave with me, no problem. Most of the others won’t be back until around then, anyway.” Vega shivered again, more visibly. “Tea.” It wasn’t a question.

Farran frowned at her. “I can manage the kettle. You go change into something warmer and more comfortable if you want.”

It was, hilariously, the opposite of what most people might suggest, alone with a woman in her rooms. ‘Slip into something more comfortable’ implied many fewer layers, silky fabric rather than cosy, and vastly more access to skin. Vega couldn’t deny that she wanted to bundle up. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. On both counts.” He turned to peer at her kettle.

Vega assumed he could sort it out. It was an ordinary sort of model.

She’d learned how to use all the more common ones in the dressing rooms of various clubs, and the same probably applied for wherever Farran did his work.

People with stable places of work got set in their ways, confused by a different model.

Maybe that was why she liked the way Farran went about things.

He had an adaptability that was like hers.

She went back through to the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

After a moment’s consideration, she went for a silk step-in, then a blouse, skirt, cardigan, and wool stockings.

She added a charm or two to the cardigan and stockings for additional warmth.

She’d have to change at the club, anyway.

When Vega came back out to the sitting room, Farran was just setting the kettle back in place, standing by the table she used for the tea things.

“Just a few minutes for tea. I did it in each cup, if you want to hold it for warmth.”

That seemed like an excellent idea, and Vega sat, then blinked up at him. “Oh.” She didn’t want to banish him to the desk chair. It had quirks, and it wasn’t very comfortable for chatting. “Have the other half the sofa?”

Farran nodded; he didn’t ask if she meant it.

Some people might. And he didn’t immediately sit down right next to her, close enough to touch, which plenty of other people also might have.

It was a friendly amount of space, not assuming anything.

The fact she kept thinking like this really meant they ought to talk about it, but she didn’t want to spoil, well, whatever it was.

It did not help that she couldn’t stop thinking about what Vivian Porter had said.

And hadn’t said, but what she’d implied.

That Farran wouldn’t take Vega being a Cousin badly.

That he had good manners for that sort of thing.

Vivian would never have brought him to one of the estates if he couldn’t be trusted that way.

They had other things to talk about, though, before that.

“Where do we start?” There, that was practical.

“Curses. And I meant to say something about the Temple Church, too, that might or might not be relevant when it comes to secrets. Though I’m scarcely an expert there.

And then, of course, Mister Vandermeer.” Farran said it evenly enough, until the end, but then he was watching her intently.

She more or less repressed a shiver, and he said.

“Start there. It’ll be better shared. He makes you feel uncomfortable. Physically, magically, something else?”

“Yes.” Having to put it into words outside her head was a help. She knew it, no matter how difficult it was. “A sense of cold. He was closer to me last time, close enough to speak, and it didn’t feel like that then.”

“You didn’t have the talisman in your pocket then,” Farran pointed out.

“It felt warm around things more like what we’re seeking, at least for me.

Perhaps the opposite here, for something.

..” He shrugged. “Something that’s the opposite of what we want?

Or maybe he’s got some talisman or device it’s reacting to. ”

“Well, it’s not terribly modern, made last week.

Vandermeer dressed well, but nothing he wore was brand new.

” Her chin came up when Farran blinked. “You get used to paying attention to that sort of detail. Especially at clubs where people come back, week after week. Who’s in good funds, who isn’t.

How recently someone skilled has polished their shoes.

Subtle, especially for people who buy good things to start. ”

“But there. And I suppose you’ve a decent eye for paste gems and costume jewellery,” Farran said. Naturally, he’d think of that sort of object.

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of costume jewellery. And if I were going to a club, all sorts of people around, I’d rather wear something like that, honestly. Less worry about it.” That was the truth. Of course, some of it was about what jewellery she did and didn’t own in her own right.

Farran tilted his head, and then, almost as if he’d read her mind, he said, “You don’t have much of your own, I’m thinking.

” Now he was looking at her, not staring, but broadly, as he might look at a large painting before taking in the details.

“I’m guessing you’re from the sort of family that’s particular about their pieces.

Fewer, but chosen deliberately. Not for the current fashion, not to suit this week’s frock. ”

It was unerringly correct. Vega swallowed, then nodded. “Old family, but that’s not what we care about, no. Passing fashion.” Then she asked, “What do you think is going on with Vandermeer?”

“Ah.” Farran considered. “I asked Vivian to see what she could find out, as well as Master Philemon. Well, someone else in the office who’s very good at that kind of thing.

What they’ve found so far is that he’s definitely American.

He has ties to various art museums in America— the Metropolitan in New York, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, the Smithsonian.

But he’s also well known to private collectors.

The sort of person who goes looking for particular pieces, then sees if he can make a deal to get it. ”

“And in this case, it’s not like he can make a deal with us. And I wouldn’t if he asked.” Vega frowned.

“No, because you’re interested in it for reasons other than fame and glory and putting it on display.

Or money.” Farran said it fondly, she thought, as if he approved.

“The sensible assumption is that he’s hoping you— we— might give him a hint about where it is.

Or a hint about where something interesting is.

There’s no word, not yet, and there might not be, about if he’s looking for something specific in the period. ”

“Or made of meteoric iron and magical.” Vega grimaced. “That’s not much help, even if it is more information.”

“And I was hoping we wouldn’t see him. How does he make you feel? Magically?”

“The first time? Like he was brash. A hair too noisy, out of balance with what was going on? But now? Like nails on a chalkboard.” There, that was an excellent description, and it made her shiver again, but not from the cold.

“Dissonant in wrong ways, not the jazz ways. Something that won’t resolve properly.

Something selfish. Something changed in him, and I don’t know what or why, except that I don’t like it. ”

“Jazz is a conversation, isn’t it? Not a lecture.

Opera, now, a good aria can be a monologue and that’s fine.

But not when you’re trying to have several people all at once.

” It was an interesting way of putting it.

Now Vega very much wanted to see if she could convince more of her family to try her style of music and mix it with some of their rites.

The ones they did often enough they could experiment once in a while.

Of course, she wasn’t a fool. “Is— no, he has done nothing obviously wrong, has he?”

“He hasn’t.” Farran shook his head. “Vivian said if he turned up again, let her know. She can suggest some options. But he’s allowed to be in a public park in London. So are we, but.”

“But if he turns up again, that’s certainly suggestive.

” Vega let out a long puff of breath. “I don’t like it.

And we’re not really any closer to finding the object.

Other than knowing some places it isn’t, and having a tool that might help.

Right. You were going to say something about the Temple Church? ”

“Oh, it occurred to me it’s interesting magically and legally.

It’s a royal peculiar. It has been since the beginning.

That means it isn’t part of a diocese or archdiocese, it’s subject directly to the monarch.

” Farran’s shoulder shrugged. “Less relevant to Albion now, maybe, but it was founded in the late 1100s.”

“Before the Pact.” Vega considered that. “Wrong period for what we’re looking for, but I see what you mean. Are there other pockets like that?”

“London, I gather, is full of that sort of thing. But not always well documented.” Farran shrugged. “Curses? It’s related.”

“As you wish.” Instinctively, she shivered again, and moved a little closer to him before she thought about it. A moment later she felt his hand on hers, cautiously, like he might pull it away at any moment. When she looked up, he was watching her, as if he weren’t sure what she was going to do.

“Curses.” His voice got softer, but he didn’t move his hand.

“I do think they exist. I’ve seen examples of cursed objects.

We’ve worked with them as part of training.

I’ve been able to observe, twice, while one of the Penelopes dismantled one.

People keep the oddest things in their bank vaults.

Do I think Cleopatra’s Needle or Blackfriars Bridge is cursed?

No. Is it possible that, historically, some horrible things have left a mark? Maybe. I’m less sure about that.”

It was pragmatic again, though now Vega had dozens of questions about the process of undoing a curse on an item. “We have some family stories, though I haven’t seen the objects myself.” She took a breath and let it out. “I don’t know why I’m afraid.”

Farran hesitated, then he cleared his throat. “May I speak, um? Directly?”

“Yes?” Her voice cracked on the single syllable.

“What my fingers tell me, what my magic tells me, is that you’re nervous.

And talking about a curse isn’t helping, but I don’t think that’s all of it?

” His mouth turned up slightly. “I’m not as good with people as I am with materia.

Probably better for everyone. But— you, it’s helpful for me to be here? ”

“Very.” That came out before she could think about how to put it better. “I like your company, rather a lot. But particularly after— well. That was a shock seeing him. Feeling him.”

“Then I’ll stay until you need to leave, if you like. Or take a cab with you. I’m assuming there’s good security at the club?”

“Oh, yes. Thankfully. They’d keep him out if I needed, but I don’t know that’s the right choice. As you said, he’s allowed to be in a public park, he’s allowed to be in a club. But I can make sure he leaves me alone, if he’s there. Maybe better that you don’t come tonight, but some other night?”

“Some other night,” Farran agreed softly. “I am very interested in how your sets go together in practice. Now I know more about how to listen to them. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Tomorrow would be excellent. If you don’t mind a later night. I need to go out and talk to my family again, Monday or Tuesday, I think. But we can talk after that, when you have a chance?”

“My time, beyond my other work, is yours.” It was a bold statement, a sweeping one, but when she looked at him again, he seemed utterly sincere.

There was no false face there. “Let me know. I’ve appointments until five on Monday, but I’m free after that.

If you wanted supper together or something of the kind. ”

Vega swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.” Then she glanced over at the clock and simultaneously realised her tea had steeped far too long and also gone cold. “I should get ready for the club. It will take me a bit, if you don’t mind coming with me?”

“Not at all. I’ve a book. Take as long as you need.” It was only then that Farran moved his hand, letting her stand. She took her mug back with her to the bedroom as she began going through all her ordinary preparations.