"I have no sympathy for any of you. Your class have looked down on mine for generations, my lord. You are about to get a taste of your own medicine."
"My husband is nothing but generous and kind to his tenants and everyone in the village," Patience said with more backbone than I'd seen her exhibit before. "What you're doing to him is despicable, cruel." She pressed a hand to her stomach and drew in a fortifying breath. "Please, be reasonable, Mr. Longmire, and accept my husband's offer of an allowance. That way everyone gets something out of this sordid mess. A mess that was not of my husband's making any more than it was of yours."
Mr. Longmire looked as though he were considering her suggestion, but in the end, he shook his head. "I want what's mine. I have no sympathy for him. He had a life of privilege, while I grew up poor."
"Our father gave your mother an allowance," Lord Cox growled. "You were hardly destitute."
"An allowance! Do you think that made up for the way my mother was treated? Her family shunned her. She was jeered at by people in the village because they didn't believe her when she said she was married. They spat at her and called her disgusting names. I had to fight off bullies every day. When we moved, she was able to make a fresh start only by telling everyone she was a widow. But she never married again, and now I know why. She was a decent woman who would never break her vows." His eyes glistened for a brief moment before he bared his teeth. "She didn't deserve that life. And neither did I."
Lord Cox rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry. I really am. You're right and you and your mother should have been treated better. If it helps, he wasn't a nice man, our father. He was very cold and distant. He ruled the household with an iron fist."
"If it helps," Mr. Longmire sneered. "You did nothing after he died. You kept the secret, hoping this day would never come. Now that I see what company you keep." He thrust his chin in my direction. "I'm not surprised you're a cheat too."
"For goodness’ sake," I muttered.
Matt squared up to Mr. Longmire, who merely glared back at him. "Go ahead. Hit me again, Mr. Glass, and I will have you up on charges of assault."
Matt's brittle chuckle held no humor.
Mr. Longmire swallowed and backed away.
"It's time you left," Lord Cox said sitting heavily in an armchair. "I will look over these papers."
"Not without the coronet," Mr. Longmire said. "I told you I wanted it as a show of goodwill." He put out his palm. "Hand it over."
Weighty silence settled around us, smothering and dense. I found it hard to breathe, to think. Patience went to her husband and touched his shoulder. He covered her hand with his own. It was the first sign of affection I'd seen between them and it seemed to rally him.
"I can't," he said. "I promised I would, but there's a lot to think about. My children, my wife…"
"Hand it over," Mr. Longmire growled.
"Let me go through these papers with my lawyer and then—"
"No! I want the damned coronet! It's mine. I deserve it." He stepped toward Lord Cox, his jaw and fists clenched.
Matt grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. He was going to hit him again.
"You don't want it," I said quickly.
Nobody paid me any mind.
"You don't want it," I said to Mr. Longmire. "It's magical and you hate magic."
Everyone stared at me. A warning flashed in Matt's eyes, but not censure. There was no point in holding back now. Everyone in that room knew what I was.
"What are you talking about?" Mr. Longmire snarled.
"When we were here earlier today, Lord Cox showed us the coronet. I touched it and felt magical heat."
Mr. Longmire scoffed. "You're making that up. Magic doesn't have any heat. I've felt a magical object before, Mrs. Glass, and it wasn't hot."
"Only magicians can feel it in things that have had a spell cast on them during the manufacturing process. It's a different kind of warmth than that created by the sun or fire. I can't explain it, but I do know when I feel it. And when I touched the coronet this morning, I felt its magic warmth."
"Is that why you immediately let it go?" Patience asked.
I nodded. "Do you really want it if you hate magicians and magic so much, Mr. Longmire? Wouldn't it be considered cheating if you were to possess such a thing? I wonder what your friends in business would think if they knew you coveted a magical crown."
The muscles in his face twitched and twisted as he fought to control his anger. He swallowed whatever retort was on his lips, however, and simply threw Matt's bloodstained handkerchief on the floor. Either he really didn't want anything to do with magic or Matt's threatening stance worried him.
Lord Cox tugged on the bell pull. "Good evening, Mr. Longmire," he said evenly.
Mr. Longmire put a finger down his collar and stretched out his neck. "I'll be back for the contract."
"Show Mr. Longmire out," Lord Cox instructed the butler.
Matt put up a staying hand. "Just a moment. Who told you about your father?"
"I received an anonymous letter along with copies of all the documentary evidence to prove the claim," Mr. Longmire said.
"Are you sure the documents weren't fabricated?"
"Pardon?"
"With the right equipment and an excellent forger on the payroll, fake copies of birth certificates and parish records are easy to come by. I assume you checked everything before marching to London with your threats."
Mr. Longmire looked a little less sure of himself. With a rallying sniff and another stretch of his neck, he said, "Of course I did. Besides, it must be true. Cox hasn't tried to deny it."
"That's not the point. The point is, lawyers want proof."
Mr. Longmire turned to Lord Cox. "You can keep the coronet for now. I'll collect it when I get the rest of what's rightfully mine."
We waited for him to go before we took our seats again. I felt somewhat shaken after the confrontation and clasped my hands together on my lap to steady them. Matt must have sensed it because he placed his hand over mine and caressed my knuckles with his thumb.
"Well," Lord Cox said with forced cheerfulness, "shall we go in to dinner?"
I didn't feel like eating. Nor did Patience. She pushed her food around her plate and hardly touched her dessert, even though I'd decided by the time the banana cream was served that there was no point sacrificing delicious food for Mr. Longmire.
The men had briefly discussed legalities and the contract, but it wasn't clear by the end of the night whether Lord Cox was going to sign or not.
"Do you still think it was Lord Coyle who informed him?" Patience asked me as tea was served in the drawing room after dinner.
"I do. He ought to be ashamed of himself for causing this trouble."
"I just want to know why," she said on a sigh.
As did I, and whether it had anything to do with magic. Perhaps Lord Coyle thought Longmire's hatred of magicians tied in with his own plans to keep magic secretive. By issuing threats to successful magicians, Longmire might be frightening some into remaining hidden. That would suit Coyle nicely. But why inform Longmire about his father? That was a separate matter entirely.