Spellbreaker

Her heart sank. She wanted to know about Bacchus’s rune. Wanted to unravel the mystery beside him. Wanted to share his carriage. It was a strange feeling . . . In the past she had never been anything but excited to carry out the Cowls’ orders. But right now . . .

“What is that?” Bacchus asked, peering over her shoulder.

She shoved the letter beneath the waistline of her skirt. “Oh, Mr. Kelsey, I’m afraid I won’t be able to go after all.” Disappointment dripped down her limbs like the misty rain surrounding them.

Mr. Kelsey came around the carriage. “What do you mean? What was that letter?”

She puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips. “It’s private correspondence.”

“But you only broke the seal now?” He looked over her head—following his gaze, Elsie spied Rainer at the end of the road.

Ignoring the comment, she said, “I need to go to . . . Hadleigh. I forgot to mention it. It came up after your visit on Sunday.” She tugged her valise free of the carriage.

“Hadleigh?” His brows drew together. “Where is that?”

“West. Out of the way.” She turned toward him, the handle of her valise clutched in both her hands. “I’ll take a separate cab.”

His look was incredulous. “How far west? I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much of a bother—”

“You need to get to London,” she insisted, quieter. Looking at him with tense eyes. Just do it, she pleaded. “You need to find out what that spell is. And I have to do this alone.”

He frowned. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I don’t believe you have a say in the matter.”

Those words added a hard line down the center of his forehead. “What I mean is, it’s not safe to travel alone.”

“Then I’ll take an omnibus instead. Or the train.”

“I don’t und—”

“Bacchus.” Her voice was hard but hushed, and she stepped in closer to be sure he heard her. “Please. I need to do this, and I cannot explain. I will get home safely. I’ll even send a telegram. I’m asking you not to fight me on this.”

He hesitated, looking her up and down. “This has something to do with the doorknob, doesn’t it?”

The doorknob with the heat spell. The one she’d been unraveling when he caught her.

She said nothing.

He stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose as though a headache had erupted there. “Elsie—”

“You said you’d pay me for my services, no? This is the payment, letting me go on my own without complaint and with the utmost understanding.” She forced a smile. “Here comes Rainer. No need to keep waiting. It’s a mystery ten years in the making, remember?”

She turned from him and stepped around the carriage, heading in the same direction from which Rainer came. She paused, looking back over her shoulder, and pasted on a smile. “Take care of yourself, please. And let me know what you find.”

Quickening her step, Elsie took the first turn she could without getting hopelessly lost, just to break away from his line of sight.

Bacchus Kelsey, blessedly, did not follow her.

CHAPTER 16

For a time it seemed the cab could not go fast enough. Elsie was sure she’d see the Duke of Kent’s carriage outside her window, or worse, following her. But Bacchus honored her request and did not pursue her. Which strangely made her wish he had.

No matter. She’d cashed in the banknote and now rode privately, her valise on the bench across from her. Cabs didn’t always go long distances, so she did have to change two more times before finding a boardinghouse to stay in for the night, and she left early the next morning to make it to Colchester.

Once there, she had the driver leave her off at a local hotel, suspecting it might be noticed if the carriage left her off at the address on the note. Best not to take chances.

After leaving her bag in the room, she took a casual walk past the shed. It was guarded not by spells, of course—that would have been too easy—but by people. The true nature of the money in the envelope dawned on her. She’d need to stay in Colchester until she learned the guards’ schedule. Perhaps they’d be particularly God-fearing guards and the Sabbath would send them home, but she couldn’t rely on that.

That first day, Friday, she strolled past the shed three times. The second time, four hours after the first, there was a new man at the entrance, and he was replaced by two men come evening. She didn’t recognize the guard on watch the next morning, but did recognize the one that afternoon. She never caught them changing shifts.

The Cowls wouldn’t assign you a task you’re unable to complete. Not without sending help.

The local church started at nine in the morning. Thirty minutes past that, a siren sounded a ways off. Its whine struck fear into her heart, and she stayed where she was for a solid ten minutes. When no one came after her, she crept back to the shed, surprised to see it unwatched. Surely it wasn’t a coincidence. A Cowl must have set off the alarm or caused a distraction of some sort, knowing she’d be there.