"We must try," he said.
Matt appeared in the doorway, a look of mystification on his face.
"I did it," I told him. "I controlled the watch's flight."
"On her first attempt," Fabian added, his eyes alight.
"Wonderful," Matt said, absently.
"What is it?" I asked.
He held out the newspaper. "Your butler just handed me this," he said to Fabian. "It's a midday issue, printed this morning." He pointed to an article at the top of the page. "Read that, India."
It was the gossip page. "'Lord ____ to disinherit after secret older brother found,'" the headline read. "My God," I murmured. "This is terrible."
The first paragraph of the brief article said the reclusive lord, who was not named, was reeling from the news that he should never have inherited his father's title and estate. His older brother was suing for everything and the matter was in the hands of lawyers.
"Do you think Lord Coyle told the columnist?" I asked Matt.
"Coyle?" Fabian all but spat out the name. After the earl attempted to blackmail him by paying off the debt that saw him released from prison, Fabian had no liking for Coyle. His family paid back the debt, but Coyle had insisted Fabian still owed him. We suspected Coyle had manipulated the moneylender into calling in the debt in the first place, which only made his demand harder to swallow.
"He denied it," Matt told Fabian. "But he is probably behind this." He explained Lord Cox's predicament without naming names then turned to me. "India, read the rest. You haven't got to the most interesting part yet. "
I read the second paragraph and gasped. The article stated the older brother asked that a symbolic gift be made of the family heirloom, a priceless coronet. He had “nobly” refused it when he discovered it had been made with magical gold.
"Magic?" Fabian repeated. "Gold magic does not exist anymore."
"I touched the coronet," I told him. "I felt magic heat and it could only have come from the gold."
"Remarkable," he murmured.
"So it's true? Gold magic has died out?"
"Over a thousand years ago, yes."
"We met a gold magician once," I told him. "He could feel gold magic, but he didn't know any spells. He claimed they'd been lost and the magic line was now impotent."
Fabian indicated the newspaper. "You say Coyle is the source for this?"
Matt shook his head. "While I do think Coyle informed Longmire that he is the rightful heir, I don't think he orchestrated this." He slapped the newspaper with the back of his hand. "It's not in his best interests. Not if he wants to keep magic a secret."
"It's very public," I agreed.
I read the article again. The wording was interesting. He or she did not speculate on the existence of magic, or scoff at it. It was stated as factual. "My first thought is Oscar Barratt," I said. "But this is mean spirited, and he's not cruel."
"I think it was Longmire himself," Matt said. "The half-brother," he added for Fabian's benefit.
I read the article once more and this time I could almost hear Mr. Longmire's voice in the words. It had to be him. "Why mention the magic coronet at all though?"
"To taint the unnamed lord," Matt said. "To Longmire, magic is unnatural and despicable. By associating the illegitimate lord with magic, no matter how loosely, he thinks he's painting a picture of him as unworthy—unholy, almost."
"But that's absurd. It's his family coronet too."
"He 'nobly' refused it." Matt pointed to the line. "He wants to be seen not only as the rightful heir, when names are finally revealed, but he wants the general public to think of him as the better man who refused a valuable object because of its unnatural origins."
Fabian muttered something in French that I suspected wasn't a nice word about Mr. Longmire or his assumption.
"Do you think he's right?" I asked weakly. "That the public thinks magic is something to be reviled and avoided?"
"Most of the public are still skeptical, despite Barratt's early articles," Matt assured me. "Many don't realize magic is real."
"But they would agree with Mr. Longmire if they knew it existed," I said heavily.
"We don't know that yet."
Perhaps not, but once Oscar Barratt's book came out, we would find out for certain.
Chapter 5
We dined that evening with Catherine and Ronnie Mason. The invitation had been extended by Cyclops, with an assurance that I would agree to it.
"I hope you don't mind," he'd said to me that afternoon. "Ronnie wanted to show you a letter he received so I told him to come for dinner. I had to invite Catherine too, of course."
"Of course," I said slyly.
Ronnie showed us the letter as soon as they arrived. Even though it wasn't signed, we knew it was from Mr. Longmire. This one was a little different to the others, however.
"It's accusing me of selling timepieces that you've put your magic in," Ronnie explained as I read. "But I'm not. The Guild knows I'm not. I had to show them the storage facility full of clocks and watches they made us remove from the shop before we re-opened."
"Ignore this," I said, handing it back. "It's written by an angry man with a chip on his shoulder by the name of Longmire."
"That's what Nate told us," Catherine said. Her lips curved into a mysterious smile that turned her pretty face into an interesting one. "But he wouldn't say more than that."
"It ain't my business," Cyclops said.
The dinner gong sounded and we filed into the dining room. Aunt Letitia had elected not to join us, citing a headache, but Duke and Willie were pleased to eat a hearty meal after spending the cool autumn day fixing the schoolroom roof at the Sisters of the Sacred Heart convent.
"Will you tell us who this Longmire fellow is, India?" Catherine asked.
"And why did he send me an angry letter?" Ronnie added.
"He's part owner in a rope making factory in Yorkshire," I said. "He believes magicians are cheating, giving them an advantage in business."
"Are there magician rope makers taking his business?" Ronnie asked as Peter placed a bowl of mock turtle soup in front of him.
"I don't know. He's riled on behalf of the artless in every field of manufacturing."
"Tell them the rest," Willie said, tucking her napkin into her collar.
"Matt and I met Mr. Longmire last night. Our meeting didn't go well."
"Matt gave him a bloody nose," Willie said proudly.
Catherine gasped and Cyclops gave Willie a warning glare.
"Mr. Longmire deserved it," I said. "He's a horrible man. I suspect he sent you the letter after our encounter because he knew it would get back to me. He dislikes me because I'm a magician."
"Tell them how he's Lord Cox's older brother," Willie said. "And how he should have inherited Cox's baronetcy, only he didn't on account of his father was a bigamist."