Page 11 of Hexbound
Inside, he found a pair of older ladies near the window. Agatha's head twisted sharply toward him, relaxing when she realized who it was. She was leaning over Marie's shoulder, pointing out some discrepancy in what her secretary had been writing. From their muttered tones, it was clear they'd been disagreeing over something.
"Good morning, Marie," he called.
Marie looked up and smiled. Thin, steel-rimmed spectacles obscured the secretary's gray eyes, and her graying hair was bound into a tight chignon. She wore a waistcoat over a loose shirt rolled up at her elbows, and a pair of breeches, though only here in the privacy of the house. "Good morning, Adrian. What a pleasant surprise."
And she meant it.
"Surprise?" Lady Eberhardt harrumphed. "Perhaps. Pleasant is yet to be seen." With a faint groan, she reached out for the cane she sometimes used. The inclement weather would be plaguing her joints.
"It's always enjoyable to have Adrian visit us," Marie protested.
"Always is a strong word. As to the Ascension protocol, do as you will then, dearest." Lady Eberhardt kissed Marie on the cheek while Bishop respectfully averted his gaze. He was the only one who ever bore witness to these endearments, a sign of trust. If someone else realized the precise relationship between the women, they would be lucky to escape an asylum for their "indecent" behavior. As far as he knew, even Lady Eberhardt's previous husband had been entirely oblivious to what was going on between his wife and her secretary.
The door pushed open, revealing Miss Hawkins. Like a summer sky swiftly clouding over, Agatha's gruff smile faded and she eyed Miss Hawkins like a bug pinned to a lepidopterist's board. "Adrian. You should have warned me that you had company."
He crossed to her side, reaching down to buss his lips against her cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't realize you weren't alone."
Agatha's hand cupped his face and she looked up into his eyes, reading almost everything within him, he was certain. The bond between master and apprentice remained, a sentiment from other times that neither of them was quite ready to dispense with.
"You're troubled,"Agatha said telepathically."Is it the girl?"
"She's the thief I've been searching for."
"The Chalice?"
"Already passed hands, unfortunately. She turned up at my doorstep bleeding. Whoever she gave it to tried to kill her."
A light touch stroked within his mind, chasing scattered sensations."That's part of it, but not all. What has she done to unnerve you so?"
Bishop kissed her palm then stepped away from her, discreetly shutting the mental door between them. "Lady Eberhardt, may I introduce Miss Verity Hawkins, thief extraordinaire and reluctant accomplice in the quest to get the Chalice back. Verity, this is Agatha, Lady Eberhardt, and her secretary, Marie Adams." He looked to Agatha. "Verity's under a compulsion denying her the means to give me information about those who commissioned the theft."
"I see." No sign of what she thought of the young woman. "You want me to take a look?"
"If you would." Bishop collapsed into one of her sleek chairs, noticing a platter of lemon tarts on the table in front of him. He reached for one. "Drake seems to think there's a memory block too."
Agatha prowled toward Verity in a menacing swish of skirts. "If you get this boy hurt, Iwillfind you. Then I will skin you alive, do you understand me?"
"Agatha!" he protested, spraying tart crumbs as Marie echoed him.
"It's all right," Verity replied, crossing her arms over her chest and returning Agatha's gimlet stare with a slightly challenging one of her own. "She'd have to catch me first, which as you've already learned, Bishop, is no easy task."
"You don't know who you're dealing with," he told her. "I have only half of Agatha's skills."
Verity gave him a very steady look, then straightened as HMS Eberhardt sailed into her orbit. Very few people could meet Agatha's stare when it held those icy tones, but Verity was giving it her best shot.
Dusting crumbs from his fingers, he considered that. Grudging admiration bloomed within his chest. "Careful. She teleports."
"Is that how she escaped you?" Agatha asked, then flexed her left hand with a disgruntled expression on her face.
"Yes. Are you all right?"
Her inner shields engaged, locking him brutally out of her mind. Bishop felt as though she'd slapped him but she merely scowled and flexed her arm. "A slight pain which comes and goes. Nothing much to worry about."
He exchanged a glance with Marie, who shrugged. Agatha didn't know the meaning of the word vulnerable, so it was sometimes difficult to ascertain whether a "slight pain" meant just that, or whether she was in agony and hiding it.
"I'll watch her," Marie mouthed over Agatha's shoulder, to which he nodded and looked away.
Catching them in a conspiracy against her would only arouse her ire.
