I needed the journal. It was the only link I had. And now that I had the code, I knew all the answers were inside.
His pistol pointed at me again. “We seem to be at an impasse,Felicity Rose.”
He moved quickly and was adept at household magic, but these house spells leaned towardme. A notion I could gibber over later. “You can impasse all you like. I am going to leave and it will be with that book.”
“Octavia Winstead’s journal?”
I gripped the spells harder. “Her name isn’t written inside the cover.”
“I know. What Idon’tknow is who you are and why you are here.” He flexed the household spells in my grasp. “Though I’m beginning to divine an answer to both.”
“I need that journal, and I need to leave this house. I’m not going to ask again. Put it in the bag.”
“You are related to the Winters boy, then. Lady Second Winters, I presume? You have the look of your parents.”
My pistol wavered. I steadied it. “You knew my parents?”
“No. But I saw them once.”
“Who are you?” I whispered.
“Merely a butler. Or, I was a butler, I should say. Once a butler, always a butler.”
His mannerisms and carriage. The way he spoke. Dignified and censorious. Haughty, with a note of deference.
I swallowed. “Whose butler?”
“I was the butler to the Steelcrest estate. The personal butler of High Lord Steelcrest. Orion Crane, at your service.” He gave a small bow, pistol steady.
Another Steelcrest servant, but this one with a key to Gabriel’s Ashfield house. I flexed the wards and put the table between us.
“Something amiss?” he asked casually.
“Plenty. How do you know Gabriel Noble?”
Shadow passed over his face. “I see.” Darkness edged by resignation.
“What do you see?” The wards brushed. Someone was coming. I edged toward the door, case firmly in one hand, pistol in the other. My need to leave suddenly outweighed my need for the journal.
The front door clicked open. Gabriel. I readied myself to open the back door and bolt.
“I see that you know nothing about me,” the man said.
“Gabriel? Marietta? You won’t believe what I found.”
I sagged at the sound of Lucian’s voice. Then tensed again. I couldn’t trust him either.
He halted in the doorway, staring at the butler. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“Language. I’m here to discover what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”
“Nothing,” Lucian said quickly. “Go back to the country.”
Crane raised a brow. “I think not.”
I dropped my case and snatched the journal from him. Both men immediately turned. My case clattered across the floor.
My pistol never wavered. “I’ll let you two argue it out. Good day.” I kept moving toward the door. I would shoot first.
