A Study in Ashes (36 page)

Evelina regained her composure enough to wonder what he was up to. “I’m sure Professor Bickerton would be delighted to be rid of me for a while.”

“No doubt.”

“But isn’t Mr. Keating’s approval the one that counts?”

“Yes and no. He has agreed to your absence, but the university has not. It seems your probationary status complicates
matters since there is still the possibility of pressing legal charges. It gives Camelin power.”

Evelina looked away, silently cursing.

He narrowed his eyes. “Shall we bargain, Miss Cooper? My influence on your behalf for a future consideration?”

“An unnamed consideration, Professor Moriarty? Do you take me for a fool?”

He stroked his tidy mustache, clearly amused. “I will agree to limitations.”

But then Evelina saw a familiar figure striding across the lawn. She held up a hand. “Perhaps this should wait. It appears I have a visitor.”

Moriarty followed her gaze. “That is Tobias Roth, is it not? The Gold King’s maker and your minder?”

“The same.” She wondered what Tobias wanted. After the séance, she wasn’t sure he’d ever want to speak to her again.

Moriarty remained glued to his spot as Tobias approached. The two men eyed one another, neither of them friendly. Evelina retrieved her stack of books, and the professor extended his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Mr. Roth. I am James Moriarty, professor of mathematics.”

“A pleasure,” Tobias said, returning the courtesy without much warmth.

Moriarty made a slight bow in their direction. “I will leave you to your guest, Miss Cooper. We will resume our discussion at a later time.”

“As you wish, Professor,” she returned.

“I need to talk to you,” Tobias said quietly as the man left, and he took Evelina’s books.

She leaned close. “Moriarty’s other name is Juniper and he works for King Coal.”

Tobias’s eyes flared with interest. “What’s he doing in a university?”

“He really is a math teacher,” she said.

“I knew they were all evil.” But he made the quip without much verve. He pressed his lips together, clearly worried about something. “We need to go somewhere private.”

Evelina led him back to her rooms, imagining Deirdre
peeking out her keyhole to see who came and went. She thought about making a flirtatious fuss over Tobias just to give Deirdre a show, but that would cause too much confusion all around.

And Tobias clearly wasn’t in a fun-loving mood. He set down her load of books, frowning at the titles, and quickly got to the point of his visit.

“I need your advice.” He took off his hat and gloves, as informal as when they had both lived at Hilliard House.

“On what?”

He sank onto the sofa, his hair golden in the diffuse light that fell through the lace curtains. “You were always my touchstone when it came to making the right choices.”

Evelina hovered, afraid to sit down because part of her wanted to retreat. It was true, he’d often come to her as a sounding board, but that had been in a more innocent time. “I’m not sure I can be that for you any longer.”

“Please, I need a friend. I’ve juggled everyone’s interests for so long, I can’t see past all those flying balls anymore.”

The truth in his voice sliced through her. He wasn’t here to play games. Evelina sat. “I can listen. I don’t know if I can advise.”

There was a beat of silence, the only sound the racket of some crows on the roof. “Is it about the séance?” she asked nervously.

“No,” he said, almost laughing. “Damn it all, no. That’s an entirely different set of horrors. I can’t even think about that now.”

Evelina wasn’t sure whether to be relieved. “Then what is it?”

He let his head drop forward. “Do you know about the bug in Big Ben?”

“Yes.”

Elbows on his knees, he rested his forehead in his hands. “I know who made it. I took it apart and looked for clues. It was tricky—I won’t go into it all—but the best lead turned out to be an Italian-made logic system. There were only a handful ever sold in the Empire, and I traced this one back
through its owners. That told me what I needed to know. What Keating wants to know.”

“In other words,” said Evelina carefully, “he’s asked you to find out who attacked a property on his territory. It’s as good as a declaration of war.”

Tobias rubbed his eyes, as if what he needed most in the world was sleep. “And the longer he doesn’t know who did it, the more foolish he looks. Handing him a mystery like this did far more damage than merely firing a cannon.” He lifted his head with a sigh. “So there is every reason in the world to win his favor by giving him the name of the culprit. And anything that keeps Keating content pleases Alice.”

She felt a twinge at the woman’s name, the ghost of past jealousy. “So why don’t you?”

“Because after I do, we’ve run out of excuses to avoid full-out conflict.” Tobias looked at her, his expression raw. “And I will have pulled that trigger. How much blood will be on my conscience then?”

She felt her heart pounding beneath her stays, comprehension unfolding like a deadly flower. But as much as she understood the problem, she had no response. Lost, she reached over and took his hand instead. “There will be war sooner or later, whatever you do.”

He gave a short, sad laugh. “Isn’t that always true? But what if a day or a week might make a difference?”

What if it saved a life? He had a son. She had Nick. “What will it cost you to stay quiet?”

He closed his eyes. “Keating might lose the advantage. Those of us entangled in his affairs would suffer if he lost to another member of the Steam Council. It’s a choice of delaying in hopes of peace or starting a war we have a better chance of winning.”

Her mouth went dry. “Was it one of the council?”

“Of course.”

But he clearly wasn’t going to tell her who. It was enough that he trusted her this far—even after he’d seen her magic and been terrified by it. “I want to give you a simple answer,” she said.

“I wish you could.”

She bit her lip. “I can’t justify telling you to unleash hell on the Empire. No one can.”

His face tightened. “Even if keeping silent costs the lives of those we love?”

“I can’t tell you to do that, either.” She squeezed his hand tight. “I’m not wise enough to tell you what to do. But I think there will be a war regardless, and you’re not the one to blame.”

Anguish flashed through his eyes. “But I won’t be innocent of it, either. I built too many of Keating’s war machines.”

And now he was afraid to see them in action. An ache formed in her chest, making it almost impossible to swallow. “We all have our dark magic. This is yours.”

He stood quickly and a little unsteadily, pressing one hand to his mouth as he paced the room. “How can I choose when every path leads to someone’s destruction?”

Evelina was woefully out of her depth. “My gran said you have to go with your heart when your head fails you.”

He stopped pacing, but it was a slow process, as if his spring had wound down.

She wrapped her arms over her stomach. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I just needed to tell somebody. You’re the only one I know who is brave enough to hear it.”

A violent rap came at the door, making them both jump. The taut atmosphere in the room snapped with the violence of a breaking wire. Disoriented, Evelina pulled open the door. It was Deirdre.

“Matron is looking for Mr. Roth!” she whispered urgently. “I wanted to warn you.”

Evelina wasn’t sure what Deirdre had expected to find—or maybe she was. She glanced at Tobias, who had already picked up his hat and gloves, his face a mask of cool reserve. Almost immediately, she heard the matron’s heavy tread on the stair.

“Miss Livingston.” The older woman’s voice rose from the stairs in sepulchral tones. “If you would return to your room, please.”

Deirdre vanished with a flutter, and Matron’s square bulk filled the doorway. “Mr. Roth, you were asked on a previous occasion to announce your presence to me before visiting Miss Cooper.”

Tobias wasn’t in the mood. “There was an urgent matter, madam, that superseded formality.”

Matron swelled. “Nothing trumps the rules, Mr. Roth. And keep in mind that I know where to find you on this campus.” She thrust out an envelope. “A messenger arrived for you, sir.”

Tobias took it and ripped it open without ceremony. He read the contents without expression and then stuffed paper and envelope into his pocket. “Thank you, madam.”

She sniffed. “I wish that I could say it was my pleasure, but it was not. This is a most shocking breach of protocol.”

Ignoring her, he turned to Evelina. “I have to go.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, the ghost of a smile on his tired face. “As always, you are wise, my dear Miss Cooper. As was your gran.”

“I will walk you to the gate, Mr. Roth,” said Matron in dire tones.

Tobias wheeled, his annoyance plain, then he seemed to catch himself. Suddenly he was the smooth-talking young gentleman Evelina remembered from her first visits to Hilliard House. He held out his arm. “It will be my pleasure to be escorted, madam.”

The masterly switch left Evelina breathless, but the matron accepted his arm with good grace. “I’ve seen it all before, Mr. Roth. You’re not too clever for me.”

Evelina wasn’t so sure. She waited by her door for them to reach the bottom of the stairs, and then she followed, watching their progress as they disappeared across the lawn. She folded her arms, anxious about what Tobias would do. More than that, she was aching to get free of this place and join Nick. If there was open conflict, she could do nothing while stuck at school.

She heard the scuff of a boot behind her. “Your visitor has left, I take it?” said Professor Moriarty.

Tobias was almost to the gate, and was lifting his hat to a
bevy of giggling students. Her heart ached for him.
What will his decision be?

“We have a conversation to conclude, Miss Cooper.”

She answered without taking her eyes from Tobias’s retreating form. “These are my conditions. I won’t hurt anyone for you. I won’t commit a crime for you. There will never be any romantic favors between us.”

“Done. I have others who can provide for all those needs already.”

She spun to regard Moriarty. He wore a mask, too, but she could see the eagerness behind it. It made her feel unpleasantly edible. “Just get me out of here.”

He gave a short nod. “I can see the paper for your leave is signed, but there is little I can do about the bracelets. Except for this,” he held up a tiny glass vial, and then pressed it into her palm. “This is the element the bracelets use. The common name is salt of sorrows.”

She held it up to the light. It didn’t look like much—just dark gray crumbs that rattled when she shook the vial. “How can a salt be a rare element?”

“The element forms part of the compound. This crystal is what they use in your restraints. I don’t know any more than that, but here is where you can begin your researches.”

She pocketed the container. “Thank you. Narrowing it down helps.”

“Good luck,” he said. “If I do not see you again before you leave, know that I will think of you in the days to come.”

Her mood, already somber, dipped another degree. “Will you be leaving Camelin soon?”

“Soon.” He touched the brim of his hat. “
À bientôt
, Miss Cooper.”

As he left, Evelina began to feel the cold seeping through her dress. It was October now, and she would need at least a shawl to venture outside.
Isn’t winter supposed to be a bad time for war?
She turned and hurried up the stairs, more than ready to huddle in the solitude of her room.

Except Deirdre was in the hall, waiting for her. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve seen my mystery caller now,” Evelina said lightly,
realizing she’d come full circle to their earlier conversation. “Sadly, he only comes on business.”

“Business?” Deirdre raised her eyebrows in amusement. “I will do business with him at any time.”

Somehow, Evelina managed a laugh. “Once upon a time, I’m sure Mr. Roth would have appreciated that offer.”

“Not any longer?” Deirdre asked, clearly disappointed.

“No.” Evelina sobered, thinking of the rake with the fallen angel smile he once had been. She would have done anything to give Tobias a little of his younger self back. “None of us are who we used to be anymore.”

London, October 2, 1889
STEAM MAKERS’ GUILD HALL
3:10 p.m. Wednesday

TOBIAS POUNDED UP THE STEPS OF THE STEAM MAKERS
’ Guild Hall, the Gold King’s summons crumpled in one hand. He was overtired, jumpy, and in a temper. Irritation prickled like a rash. With all the larger problems in front of him, he didn’t appreciate having to dance attendance at the snap of his employer’s fingers. It wasn’t as if he was sitting about drinking tea all day.

Tobias approached the double doors with a brisk stride, putting on his best public face. Late afternoon sun warmed the stone edifice, giving a grace the place otherwise lacked. The building was a bad imitation of the Roman style, with purposeful pillars and a triangular pediment above the door bearing a frieze of gears and wheels—an anachronism Tobias found ridiculous. Or perhaps pompous was a better word. The Steam Council fancied itself an industrial senate, every member a long-winded Caesar waiting for an empire of his own.
And I hate every one of them
.