Quicksilver - Amanda Quick [67]
“I do subscribe to the Journal,” Charlotte agreed. “But that does not mean that I tolerate its members, which I have always found to be an arrogant and irritating lot.”
“So do I,” Nick shot back. “Which is why I am not a member of the Society.”
Owen cleared his throat. “Well, that and the fact that Sweetwaters are not in the habit of joining organizations of any kind.”
“That’s not the point,” Nick grumbled.
“No, it’s not,” Charlotte agreed.
Evidently concluding that the argument had gone on long enough, Owen took charge.
“Now that we have all survived the social pleasantries,” he said, “I suggest we move on to the particulars of the situation that brings us together today.”
“An excellent notion,” Virginia said quickly.
“My cousin is assisting me in the investigation,” Owen said. “This morning he tracked down the clock maker who made the clockwork weapons.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Virginia said.
Nick grimaced. “No, it’s not, I’m afraid. Owen and I paid a visit to the shop. It was empty. Mrs. Bridewell, the clock maker, has disappeared. There was no trace of any of her curiosities or her financial records left on the premises.”
“Oh,” Virginia said, deflated. “Now what do we do?”
“We will leave Mrs. Bridewell to J & J,” Owen said. “I want Nick to help us with another aspect of the investigation. He has agreed to attend the reception at the Institute tonight. I want him to assess possible suspects in the crowd.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at Nick. “Are you any good at that sort of thing, Mr. Sweetwater?”
“Yes,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“How do you plan to get inside the Institute without a ticket?” Charlotte asked. “One must be invited to the reception or accompany an invited guest.”
“I have already dealt with the problem,” Owen said. “Nick will escort you, Miss Tate.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Nick has a talent for noticing small details. I want his observations of the guests at the Institute to compare with my own.”
“Excuse me—” Charlotte began in ominous tones.
“Everyone at the Leybrook knows who I am by now,” Owen said, “or at least they think they know who I am. But no one will recognize Nick.”
“I don’t get out much,” Nick explained.
“You will introduce Nick as a new practitioner who is eager to establish himself in your community,” Owen explained.
Charlotte gave a small, ladylike sniff. “I cannot imagine that scheme working for even an instant.” She glared at Nick. “What sort of talent will you claim to possess, sir?”
Nick flushed. “I will pretend to be one of those charlatans who summon spirits. It is the easiest talent to fake.”
“Because there are no ghosts,” Charlotte shot back. “By definition, everyone who claims to see spirits is either a fraud or delusional. But there are literally hundreds of mediums in London, sir, perhaps thousands. Your talent will not appear exceptional.”
“Which is precisely the effect that we hope to achieve,” Owen said smoothly. “No one will pay much attention to one more practitioner who claims to summon spirits. Nick will not be perceived as a serious competitor or threat to business by anyone present at the reception. That will allow him to make his observations without drawing scrutiny.”
“I see,” Virginia said quickly, before Charlotte could produce another argument. “A very ingenious plan. I am also happy to say that Charlotte has offered to make inquiries at the agencies who provide paid companions. We suspect that Lady Hollister’s companion will now be searching for a new position. Charlotte may be able to find her.”
“Excellent,” Owen said. He looked impressed and very pleased. “Thank you very much, Miss Tate. That will be extremely helpful.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Charlotte said, mollified by Owen’s obvious gratitude.
“You will have to excuse us now.” Owen strode toward the door. “Nick and I have a number of details to see to before tonight’s affair.”
Nick inclined his head toward Virginia. “A pleasure,