The Apothecary’s Poison: Glass and Steele, Book #3 by C.J. Archer

Author:C.J. Archer [Archer, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.J. Archer

Chapter 9

The last time I'd been to Abercrombie's Fine Watches and Clocks on Oxford Street, I'd been chased by vigilantes after Mr. Abercrombie accused me of stealing one of his watches. Although I knew Matt was right, and Abercrombie wouldn't dare do such a thing again now that he knew what Matt was capable of, I was still anxious as we headed into the shop. I expected our reception to be frosty, at the very least.

I was right.

Abercrombie spied us immediately and rushed forward before any of his four staff could greet us. He glared at me over the pince nez perched precariously on the tip of his nose. "What do you want?" he hissed under his breath. "State your business then leave without creating a scene."

The wicked gleam in Matt's eyes gave me fair warning of his plans, but I suspected Mr. Abercrombie didn't see it coming. "Now, now, Mr. Abercrombie," Matt said loudly enough that the other customers could hear. "You must put that misunderstanding behind you. It must be difficult to admit that you were wrong to accuse Miss Steele of theft, but she holds no grudges. Or are you still upset that the police questioned you about your involvement in Daniel Gibbons's murder?"

The sound of several gasps momentarily drowned out the ticking of dozens of clocks. The customers watched the scene playing out before them openly instead of with surreptitious sideways glances. Two customers even left. The staff stopped serving and stared at their master in disbelief.

Mr. Abercrombie's oiled mustache wriggled, worm-like, above his lip. He looked as if he wanted to thrash Matt. Part of me wished he would try, simply so I could see Matt thrash him instead. "Perhaps you'd like to join me out the back." Mr. Abercrombie did not wait for an answer but marched off.

Matt didn't follow, so I remained at his side. He held his elbow out to me. "I'm here to purchase a watch," he said idly. "What do you think of that one, Miss Steele?" he asked, pointing to an elegant enamel faced watch with a calendar.

"Does it have tourbillon regulator?" I asked the assistant behind the counter. "No? What about a karrusel?"

"Er…" He looked to Mr. Abercrombie.

Mr. Abercrombie shooed him out of the way. "So you wish to play this silly game," he said to us when we were alone. "Very well, let's play." He drew the watch out from the glass cabinet and laid it on the counter in front of Matt.

Matt didn't even look at it. "I hear you're asking young women to spy on us now."

Mr. Abercrombie's head jerked up.

"That's low, even by your standards," Matt went on.

"I, I…" Abercrombie licked his lips. "I don't know what you mean."

I could not believe Matt would be so blatant, and yet I wanted to applaud him. It was the best—and perhaps only— way to get Abercrombie to leave us alone; to make him think we were always one step ahead.

"Don't play the fool with me," Matt growled, voice low.

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