C.J. Archer - The Prisoner’s Key

Copyright 2019 by C.J. Archer

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" T ell her she can't have it, India," Miss Glass said from the sideboard where she poured tea. No, not Miss Glass. She was Aunt Letitia to me now that I was Matt's wife.

Matt's wife, Aunt LetitiaI still wasn't used to it after two weeks, but at least I no longer giggled when someone referred to me as Mrs. Glass.

I didn't have time to answer Aunt Letitia before Willie snapped, "Tell Letty it ain't up to her. Your old bedroom should go to me, India."

Aunt Letitia set the teapot down on the sideboard with a thud. She rarely joined us for breakfast, but today was a special occasion, the first day Matt and I were back. However, I was beginning to think she hadn't joined us to talk about our honeymoon but rather to ensure Willie didn't get in first with her request.

Aunt Letitia rounded on Willie with a ferocious glare that lost much of its effect in the dainty way she held the teacup and the frailty of the woman herself. "It should go to you? I disagree, as does India. Do not appeal to Matthew," she added when Willie turned to him.

Matt picked up the newspaper that Bristow had set beside his place. He smirked at me before hiding his face behind it.

"Why me and not Matt?" I asked.

"You're the mistress of the house," Aunt Letitia said as she sat with her teacup. "The allocation of rooms is up to you, now."

"Is this why you didn't sort it out while we were away? Because you couldn't agree?"

Aunt Letitia sipped her tea. Willie stabbed a sausage with her fork and pointed it at the elderly woman opposite. "I moved my things in, then not a minute later, she got Fossett to move 'em back. He refused to move 'em again, so I slept in there anyway so she can't get her way."

"I outrank you," Aunt Letitia said simply. "Of course the staff listen to me."

"Pig swill! You're Matt's aunt, and I'm his cousin. We're equal."

Aunt Letitia clicked her tongue then muttered, "Americans," into her teacup.

Matt flipped the top of the newspaper down and glared at his aunt then at Willie. "May India and I eat our first breakfast at home together without listening to you two squabbling?"

"This ain't your first breakfast as man and wife here," Willie said. "Just the first after your honeymoon."

His glare darkened, and I thought it best to step in before he was forced to choose between his aunt and cousin. Besides, Aunt Letitia was right, and it was now my duty as mistress of the house to make decisions about room allocations. Matt had to pay for the roof over our head, and every piece of furniture in it, as well as the servants' salaries. Frankly, he had the easier job.

"Why do you want my old room anyway?" I asked his aunt. "Yours is larger."

"I don't want it for me," she said with a sanctimonious air. "It's for Cyclops. He's been sharing with Duke, but now that your old room has become free, India, they no longer have to."

Cyclops and Duke arrived at that precise moment. They must have heard their names, because they both sighed and headed for the covered platters of food at the sideboard with stooped shoulders. This was a disagreement that had been going on for a while then, perhaps the entire two weeks of our absence.

"Why can't Willie move into my old room and Cyclops move into hers?" I asked. "Then all three can have their own space. There, problem solved."

"Nope," Willie said around her mouthful of toast. "Letty says Cyclops should have the bigger room. He's her favorite."

Cyclops gave her a smug look.

"He is not," Aunt Letitia said. "I like Duke equally well."

Duke gave Willie a smug look too. She rolled her eyes at both men.

"Cyclops is the biggest," Aunt Letitia went on. "He ought to have the bigger room."

Willie wiped bacon grease off her lower lip with the back of her hand. "She's calling you fat, Cyclops."

Cyclops merely grunted a laugh but ever-so-slightly sucked in his stomach as he pulled out a chair at the table.

Aunt Letitia turned to me. "Well? What have you decided?"

"II need more time." I bit into my slice of toast and chewed slowly.

Matt folded the newspaper and set it down. His lips were flat but his eyes twinkled. "More coffee, India, or would you rather escape?"

I narrowed my gaze. "You find this amusing."

"Infinitely."

"You're supposed to be on my side now that we're husband and wife."

"I am on your side," he said as he refilled our coffee cups at the sideboard. "I support whatever choice you make in this regard, and all others."

The sickening thought that was never far away these past few weeks resurfaced. Would he support my decision to use Lord Coyle's information to blackmail Lord Cox into marrying Patience Glass, thereby freeing Matt to marry me? He knew Lord Coyle could help us, yet he'd refused the offered information, knowing it would put me in his lordship's debt. He didn't know I'd done precisely that. He'd be hurt if he found out. Hurt and furious.

I tried to push the memory of my betrayal aside, only to fail. I attempted a smile instead.

Matt tilted his head to the side as he handed me back the cup. "You look pale. Are you all right?"

I didn't have a chance to tell him I was fine, because Aunt Letitia gasped loudly and almost dropped her teacup. "She's with child!"

Everyone stared at me. Matt blinked rapidly, his aunt clapped her hands in delight, and Willie looked horrified.

"I'm not," I said with certainty. It was one rumor I wanted to suppress before it grew legs.

"It's too soon to know for sure," Aunt Letitia said, picking up her teacup.

Willie shoved an entire rasher of bacon into her mouth. "Leave her be, Letty," she managed to say.

"How many times have I asked you to chew with your mouth closed? You weren't brought up by animals."

"You haven't met my ma."

Cyclops chuckled, only to stop suddenly upon a stern look from Aunt Letitia.

Duke leaned forward and lowered his voice. "They've spent too long together. But you're back now, India, and we can fix up the shop. That'll give everyone something to do."

I'd told Catherine and Ronnie Mason to move into my father's old shop while I was away, but they insisted on waiting until the paperwork was complete. The leasing agreement had been finalized during our absence by our lawyer, and Cyclops had informed me that Catherine and Ronnie were ready to start cleaning the shop today. Everything had an inch of dust covering it, and we also had to remove any watch and clock pieces from the premises into storage. The Watchmaker's Guild had changed their rules to ensure no member could use parts handled by a magician. It was a clause written specifically to prevent Ronnie, their newest member, from purchasing parts cheaply from me. The guild's master, Mr. Abercrombie, had hoped it would prevent them from setting up shop altogether, as a way of getting back at me, but Matt had extended the Mason siblings a loan instead. The look on Abercrombie's face when we'd told him at our wedding had made the day even more memorable.

Matt rested his hand on my shoulder. I gave it a reassuring squeeze that must have satisfied him because he sat again.