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Wesley’s driver, Marcus, arrived the next morning during breakfast, and he’d brought Wesley’s tailor and his assistant. Sebastian still had a coffee cup in hand as he found himself steered back upstairs by Wesley.

“Mr. Lloyd has been advised you’re the son of a Spanish count,” Wesley said. “I think he’s quite looking forward to outfitting you for tonight’s ball.”

“That makes one of us,” Sebastian muttered.

“Behave,” Wesley said, prodding him in the small of his back. “And you know, I rather like this cover story, actually.”

Oh no. How long was Sebastian going to get stuck with this act? “What was wrong with telling people I was your business associate?”

“You’re too bloody gorgeous for it,” Wesley said bluntly. “You saw how Langford didn’t believe it for a second. A count’s son, though? People will be delighted to believe such a handsome man is an international aristocrat.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“Mind your manners,” Wesley said. “Get into character now. Have you ever seen me roll my eyes?”

“ Yes, ” Sebastian said. “You do it all the time.”

“Lies and slander,” Wesley said, but he had a small smile. “I am aware you’d rather be on a beach, surrounded by twenty cats. But for tonight, play the part.”

Sebastian sighed. “I am glad I get to go with you,” he admitted. After the strangeness of Lady Nora and Dr. Wright on the ship, he wouldn’t have wanted Wesley to be at this ball alone. “And it will be nice to see you in your element.”

“No it won’t,” Wesley said bluntly. “You’re going to see me being an absolute arsehole.

I despise parties and can’t stand any of the people we’re seeing tonight.

I would far rather be with you on your beach, cats be damned.

But someone very wise once taught me that even when life is shit, there are things in life that make it worth it. ”

Sebastian grudgingly smiled.

“And so I will at least enjoy the sight of you in your tailcoat,” Wesley said, “even if it does make you pout.” His smile turned slightly sly. “Perhaps especially because it makes you pout.”

“Did you decide to start being an asshole early?” Sebastian said dryly, which drew a soft laugh from Wesley.

They found Mr. Lloyd in one of the unused rooms, a white man of perhaps sixty who was about Sebastian’s height and dressed in an impeccable gray suit with a blue tie.

He was adjusting a full-length mirror, but turned as they entered.

“Lord Fine. You’re looking very well, sir.

” His gaze went to Sebastian. “Don Sebastian, I presume?”

Sebastian tried to smile.

The assistant, a blond man in his thirties, was unpacking a briefcase onto a table, a tape measure in his hand. Mr. Lloyd was subtly studying Sebastian, who tried not to squirm.

“What do you think?” Wesley said to Mr. Lloyd. “You can’t imagine Don Sebastian’s panic, being stranded in England with no tailcoat for tonight,” and Sebastian managed not to roll his eyes again, but it was a close call. “Do you have something that will work for him?”

Mr. Lloyd nodded once, the gesture as crisp as his collar. “Your eyesight is as enviable as ever, my lord, and your description exceedingly accurate. I’ve brought a handful of options for Don Sebastian to try on, and we should be able to complete any necessary alterations by this afternoon.”

There was a sudden knock on the door, then Arthur poked his head in. “Apologies, but I need to borrow the Viscount Fine rather urgently.”

Wesley’s eyebrow went up. “Excuse me.”

They disappeared out the door, and Sebastian’s gaze stole after them. Had Arthur finally heard from Jade or Gwen?

He tried not to fidget through several long minutes of being helped into various dress coats and having his measurements taken. “I do appreciate your time,” he said to Mr. Lloyd, as the man adjusted his arm.

“It’s my pleasure to assist.” Mr. Lloyd made a small mark on the tape measure with chalk. “Our shop has served three generations of Viscounts Fine. Any friend of Lord Fine’s is a welcome client.”

Three generations. My world is the world of traditions , Wesley had said.

A world of titles and rules. Sebastian did come from a wilder world, where magic trumped rules and danger lurked everywhere.

Now, though, the danger to Sebastian’s world might come from Wesley’s world.

And Sebastian would have to face it without magic.

Finally, the measurements seemed to be over. Mr. Lloyd’s assistant was sorting through a small pile of white gloves when the door opened again.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Lloyd,” Wesley said, though his gaze was on Sebastian, “but it would seem that we have something of a situation. Do you have what you need from Don Sebastian?”

“Nearly,” said Mr. Lloyd. “He hasn’t picked a dress coat—”

“Whichever one you thought best,” Sebastian said hastily.

“Very well.” Mr. Lloyd lifted one of the coats off the bed, studying it. “We can have this ready for you by early afternoon.”

“We may be out,” Wesley said, glancing at Sebastian again. “But you can leave anything you wish in my room. Don Sebastian, if you could join us downstairs?”

“Thank you,” Sebastian said to Mr. Lloyd, and hurried out after Wesley.

“What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, in a low voice, as he fell into step next to Wesley, heading for the stairs.

“Miss Robbins and Mr. Zhang made port in Lisbon this morning and cabled immediately,” Wesley said, matching his volume.

“It seems your other friend, Mrs. Taylor, followed the trail of Mr. Hyde to Tangier. And she found his doctor at a resort—dead. The man appears to have been murdered on holiday, while Mr. Hyde himself was nowhere to be seen.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “But then where is Hyde? Did he murder his doctor and escape? Or is he still lost to Rory’s magic and wandering somewhere in Morocco?”

“We have a lead, at least,” Wesley said. “Hyde’s doctor was affiliated with a second asylum, here in the West Country. That’s where we’re going now.”

* * *

It was Sebastian’s first time meeting Wesley’s driver, Marcus, who turned out to be quiet man in his late thirties who’d served as a sergeant in Wesley’s company.

When their group of four came out of the inn, Marcus tilted his head.

But if he found it odd that his employer was joined by three Americans, he didn’t comment on it, and only said, mildly, “You said you needed to take the car, sir?”

“Yes, thank you,” Wesley said. “The innkeeper has promised to arrange transportation back to London for you and Mr. Lloyd.”

The car was parked on the drive, looking very familiar. Wesley and Marcus started walking toward it, and Sebastian followed. “Another Bentley Blue Label Tourer, yes?” he said, trying to sound casual. “Like the one I drove in Yorkshire? It’s convenient I already know how to drive it, yes?”

“You’re not subtle,” Wesley told him, but he had a hint of a smile. “You can only drive on condition that you pay attention to your right turns this time.” He hesitated, his gaze going back to his driver. “Marcus, you’ve met Mr. Kenzie and Mr. Brodigan before. This is Mr. de Leon.”

“The man who gifted the staff the new painting of San Juan that Miss Elsie enjoys so much?” Marcus said, eying Sebastian. “I saw it hanging up in the basement the last time I spoke with Ned in his quarters. My compliments to the artist, sir, it’s a very fine painting.”

A paranormal painting that helped protect Wesley’s Kensington home, but the staff wasn’t aware of that part.

Wesley’s tone was very formal as he said, “We have some obligations in the West Country, but Mr. de Leon may choose to return with me to Kensington afterward.”

Sebastian kept his expression carefully blank.

It would be nice to be with Wesley in his home.

But Wesley had once said his staff was small these days—Marcus the driver, his footman, Ned, two maids, along with his cook, Mrs. Harris, and her eleven-year-old daughter, Elsie.

Were they used to Wesley having men over already?

But then, Wesley had also said he never shared a bed with lovers before Sebastian.

So maybe if Sebastian was in his home, he would sleep in Wesley’s guest room like all the others before him.

Sebastian swallowed.

“Consider me at your disposal then, Mr. de Leon.” There was nothing but polite sincerity in Marcus’s tone. “I’m certain the others will look forward to seeing you again.”

Arthur and Rory joined them at the car, taking the bench seat in the back while Sebastian got behind the wheel with Wesley next to him in front. Soft droplets of rain dotted the Bentley’s cloth roof as they made their way west, out of town and down a narrow highway.

“So of the original seven relics, there are two still missing, one of which is unlocked through the murder of a paranormal with three kinds of magic, which Mr. Hyde has,” Wesley said, as they passed rolling hills in shades of green and brown under the gray sky.

“Has there been an explanation for how Mr. Hyde was found and taken out of his asylum in the first place?”

“Rory and I did some digging this morning,” Arthur said, “and we think perhaps no one accounted for academics.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asked, as he slowed the car to wave at a grazing sheep.

“It’s unfortunately not uncommon for paranormals to wind up committed,” Arthur said. “Rory had the idea to ask the innkeeper last night to get us copies of recent medical journals. And sure enough, the asylum’s head doctor published a study on his patients.”

Sebastian groaned. “If you were watching the medical journals for signs of magic, a description of Hyde would definitely attract attention.”

“Exactly,” said Arthur. “And now he’s vanished, and we don’t know if he’s still bound by Rory’s psychometry or not.”

“But we’re gonna find out and we’re gonna find him ,” Rory added.

Before he finds Arthur, or anyone else , he didn’t have to add. Arthur would carry the claw marks from Hyde’s interrogation forever. If he was loose, everyone was in danger.

The drive took nearly two hours, through villages and past farms. Finally, Wesley directed him down a gravel road. Sebastian could see a sprawling complex of buildings up ahead as he idled the car for a moment in front of an iron gate that was wide open.

Seward Mental Hospital , read the large sign in the middle of the gate. Visiting hours from 9 a.m. to 11 a.m.

Visiting hours? More of a hospital than a holding institution, then. “So Hyde’s doctor also worked here?”

“Yes.” From the backseat, Arthur sounded pensive. “Doesn’t strike one as a particularly secure facility, does it? Patients could simply stroll out of the gate.”

“Good thing Hyde was never here,” Rory said.

There was a moment of silence.

Sebastian frowned. “Surely Hyde’s doctor would not have moved him to a different hospital?”

“He better not have,” Rory muttered. “But you better believe I’m gonna find out.”

Sebastian brought the Bentley up the drive.

Closer in, some of the buildings showed the compound’s patchwork of centuries—walls of newer brick and wood, built off of older, more crumbly gray stone.

To the right, a small cluster of bare-branched trees stood next to a pond with its surface frozen, and beyond that was a building that looked older than the others that might have once been a chapel.

The gravel drive ended in a small lot, where half a dozen other cars were already parked. Sebastian pulled in next to an Austin 7 and glanced over his shoulder at the backseat. “How do we do this?”

Arthur had an arm draped over the back of the benchseat, forming a protective wall around Rory, who looked on edge, his eyes shuttered behind his glasses.

But then, Rory had once been stuck in his magic and committed to an asylum against his will.

Sympathy flooded Sebastian’s chest at the bad memories this must have been pulling up; hopefully they could get out of here quickly.

“I say I go into the lobby.” Wesley was eying the main door. “We’re past visiting hours but they’ve left the gate wide open. You said Mr. Hyde was a defector during the war? I can use that.”

“I’ll come with you,” Arthur said. “But I’ll let you do the talking; we want results fast, and you’re so good at being a complete prick.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Wesley said dryly.

“And what’re we supposed to do while you’re asking the questions?” Rory said tightly.

“You can wait here,” Arthur said softly.

“No, I can’t.” Rory’s jaw was clenched. “We want to know what happened, right? I’m the one who can see the history of this place. Maybe I can find out something about Hyde’s doctor.”

“Then I’m going to stay with you.” Sebastian cut the engine. “Let’s see what we can learn.”