Page 4 of The Journal of a Thousand Years (The Glass Library #6)

CHAPTER 4

“ D on’t move,” whispered a male voice in my ear. It was familiar, but it didn’t belong to Thurlow. “I’m going to uncover your mouth so you can answer my questions. Promise not to scream.”

I nodded as best I could.

He removed his hand, and I felt a slight relaxation of the arm trapping me. It was my opportunity.

I stamped on his foot. He grunted, and while he was distracted by the pain, I pulled free of his grip. I jabbed my fist into his stomach, hard. He doubled over with a sharp gasp. He was now the perfect height for me to elbow him in the jaw. The blow knocked him to the ground.

I adjusted my hat and pushed my bag’s handle up to the crook of my elbow. “My mother taught me those moves.”

Melville Hendry rubbed his jaw, eyeing me carefully. When he realized I wasn’t going to attack again, his gaze turned cold. He pushed himself to his feet. “I wasn’t going to harm you. I just wanted to talk.”

“Usually when people want to talk to me, they greet me nicely, not accost me in the street outside my workplace.”

He looked up at the library’s sign. “Are you the paper magician Miss Peterson told me about?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a Hendry.”

I hesitated. “I’ve just discovered a family connection. You followed them here, didn’t you? You followed the Hendry sisters to the library, hoping they’d lead you to the magician Evaline Peterson mentioned.”

He looked me over, paying particular attention to my face. If he saw a resemblance to his sisters, or himself, he gave no indication. “Why did Miss Peterson think I was related to the Hendrys?”

“If you hadn’t left the factory in a hurry, you could have asked her that question yourself.”

His lips thinned. My impertinence clearly annoyed him. “Who gave her the idea that I’m related to the Hendrys? You? Or those three…women?”

Had he seen his sisters arrive at the factory with Gabe and me? Had he been watching the factory, or his lodgings? Or did he simply guess they were involved?

We both wanted answers, but skirting around the truth was getting us nowhere. One of us had to crack the shell before those answers could pour out. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” I asked.

His gaze sharpened, studying me again. Did he see the freckles and fair hair of the Hendry family? Or the petite figure and gray eyes of my mother? “I don’t care who you are, miss, since you’re not who I thought you were. If you can’t tell me how Miss Peterson came to assume I was related to the Hendry family, then I have no further business with you.” He started to walk off.

“Who did you think I was?” I called after him.

He didn’t slow down or turn around.

“Did you think I was a man?” That made him stop. “Did you think Miss Peterson had in fact met a young man who’d just discovered he was a Hendry?”

He looked at me over his shoulder. “Very perceptive, miss. You’re right. I didn’t trust Miss Peterson’s account. I thought she’d heard about you from others. I wanted to check for myself. But I can see you’re not who I’m looking for.”

It suddenly clicked into place. He had no idea I even existed. He hadn’t been looking specifically for my mother all these years; she was his only link to the one person he did want to find.

“Is it James?” I asked the retreating figure.

He stopped again. From this distance, he looked old and worn out. His shoulders were stooped, his clothes a little too loose on his slim frame. His face half-turned to look at me over his shoulder again. “What did you say?”

“Are you looking for your son, James?”

He whipped around. “How…?” He charged toward me. “Do you know him? Where is he?” His eyes were huge, wild, and he stood a little too close. He must have realized how threatening he appeared because he took a step back. He dragged a hand over his jaw. It shook.

“I’ll tell you everything,” I said. “But it’s not a conversation to have on the street.” Crooked Lane may be quiet, but we had much to discuss. “We should go inside.” Even as I said it, I realized it was a terrible idea. Melville Hendry could wield paper like weapons using a moving spell, and the library was full of it. “On second thought, let’s go to a café instead. There’s a French-style one not far from here.”

We walked in silence to Le Café De Paris and sat inside. Although it was a pleasant day, and the restaurant had chairs and tables outside, I suspected Melville didn’t want to be too conspicuous. I chose a quiet table in the corner and ordered coffee and a pastry from the waitress. Melville didn’t want anything.

The moment the waitress was out of earshot, he leaned forward. “Well then? Answer me. How do you know James?”

There was no easy way to tell him, so I just came out with it. “My name is Sylvia Ashe. James was my brother.”

He sat back heavily, the breath knocked out of him. He stared at me as an array of emotions flickered across his face, beginning with surprise and ending with sad realization. “‘Was?’ He’s…dead?”

“Three years ago, in the war.”

“She let him enlist?”

I bristled. “If by ‘she’ you mean our mother, she had no choice in the matter. James was in his twenties and his own man. She couldn’t stop him. I can assure you, she didn’t like it. What mother would? She’s dead, too, by the way. Not that you asked. She died of influenza.”

That news didn’t rock him as much as being told of James’s death, but he did acknowledge it with a nod. “That’s why Miss Peterson said you were happy to be part of the Hendry family. Because you had no one.”

“Your sisters are kind. They’ve welcomed me with open arms.”

The waitress arrived with my coffee and a pastry on a plate. She asked Melville if he still didn’t want anything. He dismissed her with a brief shake of his head. He hardly seemed to register her presence.

“Was James a paper magician, too?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. If he was a magician, it was probably silver, like our mother. We were both raised as artless.”

He huffed and gave a disappointed shake of his head. “You only just discovered your magic?”

“Yes. It’s been a long journey that began when I met Gabriel Glass. You remember his family, don’t you? You tried to kill his mother.”

His gaze lowered to the table. “I can’t believe James is gone.” His voice was so soft that I barely heard him. “I’ve been searching for so long…and to discover this…”

If he was a friend, I’d reach across the table and take his hand. But I wasn’t ready to feel sympathy for this man. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be ready.

He looked up and blinked at me. “You said James was your brother. Half-brother?”

“Why would I be welcomed by the Hendrys if I had a different father to James?”

His gaze took me in anew. “I thought…”

“We have the same parents. You’re my father,” I clarified as he seemed to be having trouble taking in the news.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six. I was born in 1894.”

“When she ran away,” he murmured.

“Marianne?”

His gaze refocused on me. “She must have been pregnant with you when she left. Perhaps that’s why she left.”

To protect me , I wanted to say. But I kept the thought to myself. I felt no threat from Melville, seated as we were in a popular café in the middle of London. But if he was as dangerous as everyone claimed, I needed to be careful. “Why were you looking for James?”

“Because he was my son,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Marianne shouldn’t have taken him from me. She had no right.”

“She was afraid of you.”

“I wouldn’t have hurt James.”

“What about her? Or me?”

The lowering of his gaze gave me my answer. “I was different then. I was under the influence of a powerful man.”

“Lord Coyle.”

He stilled. “Of course, you’d know all about him if you associate with the Glasses. You must know everything.”

“Why did you allow Coyle to have such power over you?”

“You think I had a choice? He forced me to do his bidding. He forced your mother and me to have children.”

“Why? Was he blackmailing you?” When he didn’t respond, I took it as confirmation. According to the file Gabe’s parents kept on Melville, Lord Coyle had used his influence to get him out of jail.

He suddenly stood.

I reached over and caught his sleeve. “Wait. Please. I promise I won’t ask again about Coyle.”

He slowly sat, his gaze wary. “I won’t tell you where I’m living now. You know that don’t you? I can’t afford for the authorities to find me. They’ll arrest me.”

“I know. I just need to clarify some things.” I blew out a measured breath. What could I ask that wouldn’t send him fleeing, never to return? “Did you know Marianne Folgate was a silversmith magician?”

He nodded. “That’s why we were together. Two strong magical lineages…” His top lip curled with his sneer. “I didn’t know her surname, however. Nor did I know where she was from. I didn’t find out about the Folgates from Ipswich until recently.”

“We have that in common. We were always a step behind you.”

“She never told you?”

“She told James and me nothing about our pasts or hers. It’s all quite new for me.”

“And everyone thinks I was the cruel one. I would have told James everything. Children should know their origins. Children of magicians especially.” He drummed his fingers on the table before abruptly stopping. “We never married. You’re not legitimate.”

The possibility had always been in the back of my mind, so I wasn’t shocked. “Did she know your real name was Hendry? Or did she only know you as Maxwell Cooper?”

“She knew me as both, but James would have only known the name Cooper, if he wasn’t too young to remember anything at all. That’s why I continued using the name Cooper all these years and remained here in London. I hoped he would seek me out by going to the paper factories in the city where he’d last seen his father.” He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily.

“James remembered nothing. Or if he did, he never mentioned it to me. But I doubt he could recall that far back. He would have tried to find you if he remembered Cooper or London, or even paper magic.”

His eyes flew open. He thumped his fist on the table. “That bloody woman.”

“Don’t speak about my mother that way,” I snapped. “She had her faults, but she had her reasons for doing what she did.”

Two men entered the café. Although they showed no interest in us, Melville angled his hat lower to obscure his face. He hadn’t taken it off when we sat. He was the only man in the café still wearing one.

“How strong is your magic?” he suddenly asked.

“Quite strong, so the Petersons told me. I’m still learning.” I said it almost apologetically. I couldn’t explain why, but Melville made me feel inept for being naive about my ability.

“I remember Rosina had a son. Is he a paper magician?”

“No, and nor is her daughter. You knew she had a daughter. Why didn’t you ask about her?”

He ignored my question. “Did Myrtle and Naomi ever reproduce?”

“No.”

He stood again. “Don’t follow me.”

I indicated the coffee and pastry that I was yet to try. “I’ll finish this before I leave. Melville,” I said, addressing him by his name for the first time. “Your sisters would like to see you again.”

He sniffed. “I doubt that. They were ashamed of me once they learned that I was…”

“Not like other men?” I finished.

“They told you,” he said flatly.

“They didn’t seem to have an issue with that. It was your actions years later that brought shame on the family, when the police came looking for you.”

He quickly looked around, worried I’d been overheard. But there was no one in the immediate vicinity. “I have no interest in seeing any of them. I doubt they’ve changed much.”

“Have you changed?”

His direct gaze drilled into me. Then, with brisk steps and hat pulled low, he strode out of the café.

With a sigh, I tucked into my pastry. I hardly tasted it.

Despite the thoughts whirling around in my head, I managed to keep alert to my surroundings. I intended to take Mr. Jakes’s warning seriously. I arrived safely at Gabe’s house where the elderly butler, Bristow, welcomed me with his usual stiff formality. The twinkle in his eye was new, however.

“You’re in a good mood,” I said. “Have I missed a funny joke?”

“Nothing like that, Miss Ashe,” he intoned. “I’d just like to say that on behalf of all the staff, we’re very happy to see you again.”

While I didn’t think anyone had seen Gabe and I kiss that day in the corridor, perhaps one of the staff had been nearby after all. Or perhaps Gabe had given them clues. Some of the staff had been with the family so long they’d known him since he was born, and they’d want to see him happy. The fact that I made Gabe happy warmed me. Some of the tension I’d felt ever since being accosted by my father in Crooked Lane eased.

I heard a male voice coming from the drawing room. It didn’t belong to Gabe, Alex or Murray the footman.

“Mr. Glass is with friends,” Bristow said.

“I don’t want to intrude. Please tell Gabe that I called, and we’ll talk later.”

“I’m sure he’ll want to see you, Miss Ashe.” He shuffled off and opened the door to the drawing room. “Miss Ashe to see you, sir.”

Gabe rose and invited me in.

“I don’t want to intrude,” I said.

“You’re not. You know these fellows, anyway.”

His three chums who’d helped us solve the codes in the Medici Manuscript all greeted me with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Juan Martinez was the most effusive, kissing both my cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. It wasn’t flirtatious. It was simply his way. Francis Stray shook my hand. The quiet, reserved mathematician smiled as he did so, but it seemed unnatural, as if he only did it because he knew it was the correct thing to do. He’d always been awkward, not just with me but with everyone. He and Gabe had been friends since their school days, where Gabe had protected the shy, intelligent boy from bullies.

The third man was Stanley Greville, a friend of Gabe and Juan’s from the army. The war had affected him more than Gabe, Alex and Juan. Although physically uninjured, he’d suffered from shell shock. After he demobilized, he’d been admitted to Rosebank Gardens hospital. He had checked out of the facility after a few months and seemed to be getting better, by all accounts. He’d even found himself work at a pharmacy, as he’d not wanted to return to his studies. But lately he’d seemed to relapse and retreat into himself. It was good to see him out and about with friends, although he was clearly not well. The bloodshot eyes and sallow skin were testament to that, even if he did try to hide his trembling hands.

He gave me a nod and a polite but curt “Miss Ashe” when I greeted him. He did up his jacket buttons. “I should go.”

“Please don’t leave on my account,” I said.

“I can’t stay. I have things to do.”

“As do I,” Juan said.

Francis checked the clock on the mantelpiece. “My lunch hour is almost over, and I must return to work. Good day, Miss Ashe, gentlemen. Thank you for your hospitality, Gabe.”

The three men filed out of the drawing room.

I was about to apologize to Gabe for interrupting his get-together, but he preempted me. “They probably really do all have things to do. They were contacted at the last minute by Willie and asked to keep me company because she and Alex had to go out. When I say asked, I mean she insisted.” He took my hands and rubbed his thumbs over my knuckles. “I’m glad they left. This way we can spend some time alone.”

His kiss started out light, a mere skim of his lips against mine. But it quickly deepened, heating me from the inside, making my heart do mad flips in my chest. For one thrilling moment, I thought we’d retreat upstairs. Without his cousin and friend in the house, we had some privacy.

But we weren’t really alone. Gabe’s servants might be few in number for a house of this size, but there would be no sneaking around or secrecy while they were here.

As if by mutual agreement, we drew apart. Gabe’s eyes remained a little glazed, his lips plump from the fierce kiss. They curved into a smile. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

I laughed. “We saw one another yesterday.”

“Too long ago.” The smile vanished. “As glad as I am to see you, you don’t usually visit on a workday unless something’s wrong.” He must have seen something in my eyes that worried him. He led me to the sofa and directed me to sit beside him. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Not really. Gabe, I met my father. I met Melville Hendry.”

“Bloody hell.” He cupped my jaw. “Are you all right?”

“We had coffee together at that French-style café with the avant-garde artwork on the walls. Well, he didn’t have coffee. I ordered a cup and a pastry but didn’t touch either until after he left.” I was talking rapidly, the words spilling out of me. Unable to sit still, I stood and began to pace the floor. I shook my hands, trying to release some of the energy coursing through me. “We talked. He had no idea I even existed, which means my mother left him while she was pregnant with me. He kept the name Cooper so James could find him, but I told him James couldn’t remember anything about our father. He was sad that James was dead and seemed not particularly interested in learning he had a daughter, although he showed a little more interest when I told him I’m a paper magician. Oh, and he doesn’t want to see his sisters. He probably wouldn’t want me to tell you that we met, but I had to come here immediately. I can’t keep things from you, Gabe.”

When I turned again, he was right there in front of me. He took my arms by the elbows and dipped his head to peer into my eyes. “Take a deep breath, Sylvia.”

I did, but it didn’t help overmuch. “Gabe… I felt nothing for him. No familial instinct, nothing, and that makes me feel awful. He’s my father. I ought to feel something .” I sighed. “It’s all rather…wrong.”

“It’s perfectly natural. You don’t know him, and what you do know about him is negative. It’s understandable you feel no love for him. Love for one’s family isn’t automatic. It has to be earned, just like any other kind of love.” He drew me into a warm, gentle hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. “It’ll be all right.” The velvety hum of his voice vibrated through my body.

I wrapped my arms around him and drew in a deep breath, drawing in his familiar scent. I tilted my head to look up at him. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

He kissed me lightly then drew away. “It must have been strange to talk to him after all this time.”

“Very.”

We sat again and I told him how Melville had found me by following his sisters to the library. I didn’t mention that he’d captured me. That would upset Gabe, and I didn’t want to do that. It must be enough of a shock knowing the man who’d tried to kill his mother many years ago was the father of his current flame.

It was a very good reason for me not to see Melville again. I didn’t want to encourage him into my life, lest it drove Gabe away. Gabe was too important to me.

He must have been thinking along the same lines. “It’s probably best not to tell Willie that you met,” he said carefully. “At least for a while, until we know for sure if he has changed.”

“It’s unlikely we’ll ever see one another again. We both now have the answers to questions that had concerned us for years, and neither of us have any affection for the other. I’m happy to leave our acquaintance at that one meeting.”

“He’s probably harmless now that Coyle is long gone, and his influence with him. Hendry has lived many years in London, quietly going about his life without being a threat to anyone. There’s no reason to believe that won’t continue.”

I leaned into him, and he placed his arm around my shoulders. “Thanks, Gabe. I knew you’d make me feel better.”

He kissed my forehead. “Glad to be of service.”

I went to kiss him back, but someone made a sound of disgust from the doorway, and I retreated.

Willie strode into the drawing room looking like a storm cloud intent on ruining a picnic. “Do you two have to do that in here?”

Alex followed her, plucking off his driving gloves. “Leave them alone. At least Gabe’s here and didn’t leave the house without an escort.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Gabe said, standing. He held his hand out to assist me to my feet. “We’re going to drive Sylvia back to the library. I want to stay awhile and do some more research.”

Willie made another sound of disgust in the back of her throat. “More reading. Are you trying to kill me with boredom?”

“No more than you’re trying to kill us with your whining,” Alex shot back.

With a sigh, Willie strode out of the drawing room.

“How are your friends?” Alex asked Gabe.

“Fine. It was good to see them, especially Stanley. With all of us together, it gave us an opportunity to try to talk him into returning to hospital. He refused. He said the doctors haven’t got any new treatments to cure shell shock, and the old ones do more harm than good. It’s hard to argue with that.”

“I’m sure he’ll get better. Give him more time.”

Gabe’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smirk. “Time seems to be the answer to everything.”

Willie continued to voice her opinion about library research as we left the townhouse. Fortunately, a distraction emerged from the back seat of a motor vehicle that pulled to the curb. Unfortunately, that distraction was the imperious Lady Stanhope.

She waved away her driver who’d stepped out to assist her and held out her hands to Gabe. “My dearest Gabriel. How handsome you look.”

“Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m afraid I have business elsewhere. I’ll telephone you later.”

“Pish posh. What’s so urgent that you can’t spare a few minutes for your dear friend?”

Gabe’s polite smile was strained.

Sometimes Willie could be extraordinarily rude. Sometimes that rudeness was a blessing, as it saved others from being the one to cause offence. “You ain’t his friend. You’re an acquaintance at best. State your business so we can all get on with our day.”

Lady Stanhope glanced pointedly at the front door where Bristow stood, waiting for orders.

“Madam?” Gabe prompted.

She clasped his forearm. “What I have to say can’t be discussed over the telephone. I have a plan, you see.”

“A plan?”

Her narrowed gaze fell on Alex, Willie then me. “May we have some privacy?”

“Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of them.”

Willie crossed her arms over her chest and gave Lady Stanhope a look of childish satisfaction.

Lady Stanhope tensed. She tried to steer Gabe away from us, but he was having none of it. He stayed put. She finally gave in. “I wanted privacy because they are not magicians. They won’t understand.”

“I’m not a magician either.”

She leaned closer to him. “You say that because you don’t fully understand your ability yet.”

“What ability?”

“To heal yourself.”

Gabe sighed. “That report was pure fiction. The newspaper printed a retraction.”

“Newspapers only print retractions when they can’t prove their statements and they don’t want to be sued. Most of the time, there is an underlying truth to the claims.”

“Not this time. If you don’t mind…”

She showed no inclination to leave. Her attention was now entirely focused on Gabe. It was as if the rest of us didn’t exist. “I understand you believe your fast healing is natural, but it isn’t. It’s special. You are special, Gabriel. You’re a magician of a unique kind. Discovering one’s magic is a confusing time. I can help you navigate through it and direct you down a path that enables you to take advantage of it.”

Gabe trapped her hand, resting on his arm beneath his own, and steered her back to her motorcar. “I can’t heal myself any faster than you, Lady Stanhope. I’m sorry you were taken in by that article, but none of it was true.” He opened the door and guided her to the seat.

Lady Stanhope wasn’t giving up that easily. “I can introduce you to important people while helping you reach your full potential as a magician of the rarest degree. You’ll attend exclusive parties, be invited to the homes of famous people. You’ll be celebrated wherever you go.”

“I don’t want any of that.” He went to close the door, but she put out a hand to keep it open.

“People will try to exploit you, Gabriel, but I can protect you.”

Willie stepped forward, grabbed the door and slammed it closed. “Drive off now before someone scratches the paintwork. It happens all the time around here. It’s a bad area.”

The driver gulped and quickly obeyed.

“That was strange,” Alex said as we headed to Gabe’s Vauxhall. “Does she genuinely believe what she’s saying?”

Gabe opened the rear door for me. “I think she wants the newspaper report to be true, and for me to desire fame and fortune.”

“Why? What does she gain from it?”

Gabe shrugged. “To be there for the ride?”

I suspected he was right, in a way. Lady Stanhope liked to discover young magicians who were previously unknown. She nurtured them and introduced them to people who would pay handsomely for their magician-made wares. A few months ago, she’d discovered an artist at the Royal Academy exhibition, and wanted to act as his agent. She’d offered to mentor him in exchange for a reward of sorts. Unaware of his own worth, or how to navigate the new world he was being thrust into, the artist had naively believed she was acting in his best interests.

Her reasons then were selfish, as they were now. Gabe was neither naive nor desperate for fame, but if his magic became public knowledge, Lady Stanhope would benefit socially by simply being in his inner circle.

Willie grabbed the crank handle from the floor of the front passenger seat. “And they say I’m mad.”

“She’s just bored,” Gabe said.

“Then she should get a hobby. Or shoot something. That’s what I usually do.”

On the drive to the library, I told Gabe and the others about Mr. Jakes’ visit and his warning that Thurlow might kidnap someone close to Gabe to force him to react. It meant they all took the walk down Crooked Lane very seriously.

Alex was the first to spot the parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “Stand back. It could be an explosive device.”

It had been propped up against the door with a small card tucked into the string. The card bore my name in neat handwriting. I couldn’t be sure if the sensation of magical warmth that I felt came from the card or the contents of the parcel. The fact I felt it at all from a distance away meant it was strong.

“How will we know for sure?” Willie asked.

“One of us will have to unwrap it,” Alex said. “Very, very carefully.”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Why should I do it?”

“I wasn’t looking at you. But now that you mention it?—”

“I reckon you should unwrap it, Alex. You had explosives training in the war, didn’t you?”

“My only experience with bombs was nearly getting hit by them.”

Gabe pushed past them. “I’ll do it.”

Their protests reverberated off the surrounding buildings, but before Gabe could reach the parcel, the library door opened from the other side. Professor Nash stood on the threshold. The parcel toppled over and landed on his toes.

“I thought I heard voices.” He picked up the parcel and slipped the card out. “It’s addressed to you, Sylvia. It’s a book, if I’m not mistaken.”

Willie huffed as she thumped Alex on the arm. “Told you it was nothing.”

Alex rolled his eyes.

I unwrapped the parcel at the front desk. It was indeed a book, filled with pages infused with strong magic. The book wasn’t particularly large or thick, but the black leather cover was smooth from years of handling. Inside, the pages were in good condition thanks to the magic, but the book was old according to the date written on the first page.

A thousand years old.