Page 12 of The Journal of a Thousand Years
“We’ll need extra security. He’s going to come after you, Sylvia.” She jabbed a finger in my direction. “Unless Gabe agrees to stay away?—”
“I don’t,” he said, his voice ragged with frustration.
Willie barreled on. “We have to worry about Hendry on top of the kidnapper, and maybe Thurlow, who may or may not be the kidnapper. And Jakes.” She removed the gun from her waistband to check the barrel. “Who also may or may not be the kidnapper.”
“Put that away,” Gabe growled.
“Tea?” Professor Nash’s arrival in the reading nook was a welcome distraction. He set down the tray he carried on the desk. “I’d just made it for Willie and me, but when I heard you three enter, I fetched more cups. I thought you might need it.”
“You’re a marvel.” I picked up the teapot and poured. “Sit, Professor. Have a rest.” He looked as though he needed the tea more than me. “We have news.”
I told Willie and the professor what we’d learned at the Petersons’ factory. To my surprise, Willie didn’t interject. She seemed riveted, and impatiently ordered me to continue when I paused. “We then went to Maxwell Cooper’s lodgings, but he’d vacated it without informing his landlady. He seemed to have left in a hurry.”
“I knew it,” she muttered into her teacup. “He’s no good.”
“Given he goes by the name Cooper and Marianne Folgate—my mother—was also once known as Cooper, it seems likely he’s my father.”
The professor pushed his glasses up his nose. “And you look like the Hendry women. Yes, it does all seem to fit, doesn’t it?” He patted my arm. “I’m very pleased for you, Sylvia. It must be a relief to finally know.”
“Pleased!” Willie cried. “Relief! Her father’s a low-down pigswill who tried to kill me! She shouldn’t be happy to be related to that.”
Gabe arched his brows pointedly. “We can’t choose our relatives. Every family has an undesirable member or two.”
If Willie realized he was referring to her, she didn’t show it. “He tried to kill your mother, Gabe! Not to mention he was tangled up with Coyle. Does he know about you, Sylvia?”
“Evaline told him about a young paper magician relative who’d just entered the family fold. She didn’t say I could be his daughter. She didn’t know he was Melville Hendry when she spoke to him this morning.”
She blew out a breath. “Good. Hopefully he won’t realize and won’t come looking for you.”
I nodded along. She was right, of course. Melville Hendry had been a danger years ago, and there was no reason to believe he’d changed. He ought to be kept at arm’s length.
If only that thought didn’t leave me with a heaviness that weighed me down.
The following morning,I received another visit from the Hendry sisters. They’d been worried about me and wanted to check on my well-being. Although they didn’t stay long, theirvisit almost brought me to tears. Good tears. Happy tears. I’d gone from having no family to being the niece of three kind aunts who took it upon themselves to check on me. I was fortunate indeed.
I had errands to run at lunchtime. After informing Professor Nash that I’d be back in an hour, I grabbed my hat and bag and was about to open the door when it was opened from the other side.
“Mr. Jakes! What are you doing here?”
The debonair gentleman removed his hat and held it to his chest. He gave me a shallow bow. “Good afternoon, Miss Ashe. I’ve come to see you. May I come in?”
I hesitated then stepped aside. I couldn’t very well block his entry. Besides, I was wildly curious about his visit. Why call on me and not Gabe?
I didn’t invite him further into the library, but remained by the front desk where I placed my hat and bag. “Are you after a particular book? I’m afraid we’ve found nothing more on magical mutations.” He’d come here before looking for documents on that subject. He believed Gabe’s miraculous wartime survival was somehow the result of a mutation of his magic, although Mr. Jakes didn’t know how that mutation manifested itself. His theory was close, but in his version, he believed Gabe was born a magician who could control his magic with spells. In truth, Gabe had always believed himself to be artless. His magic only engaged when his life, or the life of someone he cared deeply about, was in danger.
“I came to talk to you.” Mr. Jakes’ light blue eyes usually sparkled, and he often smiled, which I suspected were his favorite weapons designed to disarm people and lull them into a false sense of security. But not this time. He looked quite serious. “In fact, I want to warn you. You may be in danger.”
My pulse quickened. He’d heard about my connection to Melville Hendry extremely quickly, considering the authorities didn’t even know Melville was still alive let alone in London.
He wasn’t referring to my father, however. “The danger stems from a powerful criminal figure who controls a gang of thugs.”
“Do you mean Thurlow?”
“You know of him?”
It was rather satisfying to see that I’d surprised a Military Intelligence officer. “We’ve met him.”
Realization dawned. “At the racetrack. Yes, of course. Then you know how slippery he is.”
