"What is the meaning of this?" Matt demanded.
Mr. Bunn finally seemed to see Matt, flanked by Duke and Willie. A formidable trio, even though Willie didn't have her gun on her. It was no wonder he swallowed heavily and glanced behind him. Bristow and Peter blocked the exit.
"I'm sorry, sir, I tried to stop him," Bristow said. A few strands of hair stood on end, and his jacket was bunched at the shoulders. For the usually impeccably turned out butler, he was positively disheveled.
"It's all right," Matt assured him. "The fault lies with this fellow." He squared up to Mr. Bunn. "I asked you a question," he growled.
Mr. Bunn's cheek twitched. He looked to be no more than twenty, but his blond curls could have made him seem younger than he was. With the bluster fading, he looked somewhat vulnerable.
"My name is Joseph Bunn. I'm a leather magician. I met Miss Steele a few months ago, here." He'd learned about horology magic and Chronos through Oscar Barratt's article and discovered the address of the magician's granddaughter through a combination of coincidences. No other magical craftsmen had sought me out since, and I had thought myself safe, forgotten. Clearly Mr. Bunn had not forgotten.
"It's Mrs. Glass now." I indicated Matt. "Mr. Glass and I are married."
Mr. Bunn removed his cap and crushed it in his hands. "Congratulations." He cleared his throat and addressed Matt. "I asked your wife to use her magic to extend mine so I could make fine leather shoes that last. She wouldn't do it then, but I thought I'd try again."
"You've wasted your time." Matt indicated the door, inviting Mr. Bunn to leave.
Mr. Bunn didn't move. "You see, I started the business and it's doing real well. Everyone likes my boots and shoes because the leather's so fine, and I sell 'em at reasonable prices while I get established." He spoke quickly, as if he realized Matt had a short fuse and he had to say everything before the spark reached the gunpowder. "But I had to borrow a lot of money to get started, and now I've got a large debt. I was hoping Mrs. Glass would take pity on a fellow magician and extend my magic to make the leather seem like new forever. Once I get a reputation for fine, durable boots…" His cheek twitched again with his tentative smile. "People from all over London—all over England!—will want a pair of my footwear. I ain't in a hurry, Mrs. Glass. I'm young and I can meet my repayments, for now, if things go along as they have been. People already know how good my work is, but if the magic could be extended, I'd be the best."
"Mr. Bunn, I admire your enthusiasm and entrepreneurial spirit," I said, "but my decision has not changed. I won't extend your magic."
His smile faded and his busy hands scrunched the cap tighter. "Why not?"
"Magicians already have an unfair advantage over artless craftsmen, but at least the magic doesn't last. It would be immoral of me to extend that advantage."
"How is it unfair when magic was given to me by God?"
"Don't bring God into this," Willie spat. "If He wanted you to use your magic to get ahead, He would have made your magic last forever and not fade away."
"But He gave Mrs. Glass that kind of magic."
"Let's leave religion out of this," I said. "The fact is, I won't be extending your magic. Please don't come here and ask again."
Mr. Bunn stepped toward me. "But—"
Matt grabbed his arm, and Duke grabbed the other. Willie blocked his way, hands on hips. Mr. Bunn struggled for a moment but must have realized it was pointless and stopped.
"I wasn't going to harm her," he muttered. "Just talk to her."
"What makes you think she will extend your magic now when she wouldn't last time?" Matt snapped.
"I've gone and set myself up," Mr. Bunn said. "I thought if I showed her I was making a go of it, and I could prove my business could be profitable within a few years, she'd see fit to help me."
"You've wasted your time," I said.
"And ours," Matt said. He and Duke hustled Mr. Bunn toward the door.
"I never told anyone else where to find you!" Mr. Bunn cried. "Not a single magician. I kept your secret, Mrs. Glass. Now you should help me."
"She doesn't have to do anything for you," Willie snapped.
"And if you tell a soul where to find her," Matt said, his voice like cold steel, "I will ruin your business and have your creditor call in your debt."
Mr. Bunn's eyes widened. "You! You sent me that letter!"
Matt's gaze narrowed. "What letter?"
"Threatening to ruin me."
"I haven't sent you a letter. I didn't know who you were until today."
"Tell us about the letter," I said, rising.
"It was from someone who threatened to ruin me, just like Mr. Glass did. It called me a cheat for using my magic to make my business successful."
It was just as Oscar mentioned. Successful magicians all over the city were receiving letters accusing them of cheating. It was no surprise that Mr. Bunn had been one of the recipients if what he said was true and he'd built a solid business in such a short time.
"Do you have the letter still?" I asked.
"I threw it away." He looked up at Matt. "You didn't send it?"
"I have better things to do. Not to mention I'm married to a magician," Matt said. "I have no reason to send you or anyone else threatening letters. Unless you harass my wife again."
Mr. Bunn's lips twisted. "So what am I supposed to do?"
"Continue to make excellent quality shoes and boots," I said. "Just as you are now."
"That ain't enough! The quality quickly fades. How will I get ahead?"
"Through hard work," Willie said.
"That could take years!"
"There ain't no shortcuts in life."
Mr. Bunn didn't offer resistance when Matt and Duke marched him out of the sitting room. Peter followed, but Bristow remained behind.
"Can I get you anything, madam?" he asked.
"No, thank you."
"I want to apologize again for allowing that fellow to get past me."
"It's all right, Bristow. It's not your fault."
"Maybe you should get him a gun, India," Willie said as Bristow bowed out. "What do you think, Letty?"
I'd forgotten about Aunt Letitia. I turned to her when she didn't answer Willie and drew in a sharp breath. She was smiling at me with childlike innocence.
"Veronica, is Harry home?" she asked. "I'm sure I heard his voice. Go and tell him to come here." Her face darkened and her lips formed a pout. "Father has been horrid to me again, and Richard too. Our brother always takes Father's side, but Harry always takes mine, bless him."
I eyed Willie, and together we gently assisted Aunt Letitia to her feet. "Why don't I take you to him," I said.
I helped her to her room while Willie fetched Polly to sit with her while she rested. It had been some time since she'd taken a turn, and I'd begun to hope she was getting better. But the shock of Mr. Bunn's intrusion, and the subsequent confrontation, must have caused her mind to slip into the past where she thought I was her old maid, Veronica, and Matt was his father.