He shoved away from the table, too antsy to sit, too embarrassed to face Arthur anymore. He’d just admitted he’d followed the thought of Arthur out of a vision. He didn’t know what it meant.
And he didn’t know if he could do it again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Arthur, Jade, and Zhang made planning look easy. Zhang flickered in and out of the study like a firefly, checking in on his tea house and on Mrs. Brodigan in Hell’s Kitchen with barely an interruption in the conversation. Even Jade’s go-between for Arthur and Zhang in the astral plane was smooth, like they were coordinating a tea party, not a caper to heist a priceless piece of magic jewelry from a Fifth Avenue mansion.
Rory let them plan. They’d tell him what to do and he’d do it. “We have Pavel’s potions,” Jade was saying, as Rory headed for the parlor where the phone was. “But Gwen will see the magic through your clothes and be able to tell exactly what they do. You’ll need something safe to keep them in—”
“I have an idea.”
Rory could listen to Arthur’s deep voice and posh accent all night. Instead, he curled up in the chair next to the phone and called Mrs. Brodigan. “I’m not going with you to Hyde Park tonight,” he said, as soon as she picked up.
“What?” Mrs. Brodigan sounded surprised and unhappy. “Why ever not?”
He tried to shove aside the crushing disappointment that he wasn’t going to the countryside. At least she’d get to go; she loved kids as much as he did and she’d be safer if she was far from him. “It’s complicated.”
“Nonsense. I’m not going without you.”
“Mrs. B.—”
“No, dear.” Her voice was firm. “You went pale as a ghost in the shop before telling me we should leave the city and you’ve been acting strangely all evening. What’s going on?”
Rory scrubbed a hand over his face. “New job for Ace,” he said, which wasn’t even a lie.
“Hmph,” she said. “Tomorrow, then.”
“I can’t—”
“Then we’ll go Sunday.”
Rory was praying that by Sunday he’d have taken away Arthur’s reason to let him stay at his brother’s mansion. It wasn’t like Rory had another excuse for the countryside.
Arthur had stepped into the doorway, watching with a puzzled frown, so Rory just said, “Maybe,” and left it at that. It wasn’t like he was going to tell her what he planned to do tomorrow night. “Be careful, okay?” He put the receiver back on the cradle. “What do you want?”
“Zhang’s going to watch Mrs. Brodigan’s house tonight, just in case Gwen decides she’s worth a second look.”
“I should do it—”
“Nonsense. Then Zhang would have to watch you as well.” Arthur leaned on the door frame. “I heard you mention Hyde Park.”
Rory rubbed a hand over his face. “I had no business going anyway. Imagine if I had visions at your brother’s house.”
“Mrs. Brodigan would have kept an eye on you, as Sasha keeps an eye on Pavel.” Arthur shrugged. “No reason to tell my family about magic. Let them keep their blissful ignorance.”
“Why does that sound familiar?” Rory muttered.
“Cute.” Arthur smiled thinly, without real humor. “But you have enough to worry about. And so do they.”
Arthur’s family probably did have enough on their plates, all of them busy and rich and important. Rory drew his knees up to his chest. “On the street, you told that bull your family’s in politics.”
“Oh.” Arthur rubbed his neck. “You heard that.”
Not a denial. Like Rory had needed another reason to realize Arthur was completely out of his reach. “Politics, huh.” His stomach made an uncomfortable lurch. “You going into politics someday too?”
Arthur shook his head again. “I hardly look the part,” he said, too casually. “No pretty wife or pretty kids. But in your own words, I’m an overprotective arsehole, so clearly there’s a reason I’m single.”
Rory was suddenly angry. “Now you’re the one talking crazy. You’re so convinced you gotta be alone, I bet you don’t let anyone try.”
