Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology #1) - Charlie N. Holmberg Page 0,24

knew the most powerful of spells. The spellbooks’ value went far beyond money, and in the wrong hands, they could be incredibly dangerous. In the riots of the late seventeenth century, opus spells had been used to make a general forget which side he fought for and attack his own king. Another had set an atheneum on fire.

Ogden frowned. “I hope they are merely stories sensationalized by journalists to sell more papers. Let’s pray the viscount is the last we hear of.”

Elsie nodded before hurrying downstairs to do as asked, her thoughts flitting between murders, opuses, and Kent.

When the door to the studio opened, Elsie jumped and dropped the paintbrushes she’d been organizing. She half expected a large, shadowy man to be standing there. He would say, I meant dawn today, and then step aside, revealing the police force assembled behind him, ready to drag her to the nearest atheneum for punishment.

To her relief, it was merely a lad no older than fourteen. Small in stature, dressed in gray servants’ clothing. Completely harmless.

She craned to check the road behind him just in case, but it seemed God did not mean for her to meet her reckoning today.

Letting out a long breath, Elsie scooped up the paintbrushes and headed over to the counter, where the boy waited. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Elsie Camden?” He scratched the side of his freckled nose.

She set the brush down. “I’m she. What can I do for you?”

His eyes darted around the studio, though it seemed to be more from curiosity than nervousness. Remembering himself, he shot his gaze back to her. “Oh. Uh, Mr. Parker sent me. From Squire Hughes’s estate. Said . . .” He paused, trying to remember. “Needs your assistance with an addition, and Mr. Ogden ’asn’t got the paperwork.”

Mr. Parker. Her pulse quickened at the name. Why send for her when he could simply wait until tomorrow and have Ogden bring the paperwork himself? Why was a man who had so pointedly not been in her life—almost as though he’d been trying to conceal himself—now suddenly popping up again and again?

Could she be right about his connection to the Cowls? And if so, did this mean they were finally preparing to bring her into the fold? She’d been waiting so long . . .

The boy was watching her, so she pushed out a confirmative “Ah.” The metallic paint would not be needed yet after all. If the squire meant to add more work to Ogden’s plate, he wouldn’t have time for it. Not today. Leave it to a nobleman to assume he was the only one worth serving. “Wait for me one moment, will you?”

The boy nodded, and Elsie retrieved the ledger used to record Ogden’s open orders, trying not to let excitement shake her hands. The ledger chronicled names, dates, the type of work, estimates, and final prices. Squire Hughes had a page all to himself. Ogden, being a wise man, wanted the extra requests recorded now so they’d be charged properly when the time came. Elsie would even make Mr. Parker sign the page. She wouldn’t put it past Squire Rat to shortchange them.

Maybe she could get Mr. Parker to print his name as well. See if it matched the handwriting in the letters she received. Although she always promptly destroyed them, they were all written in the same hand. She felt certain she’d recognize it.

After retrieving her hat, she tucked the ledger under her arm and gestured for the lad to lead the way. He did so without word, and walked too slow for Elsie’s liking. She wanted to arrive straightaway. She needed to know.

It was a bit too cloudy today, but the sun peeked out just often enough to keep the air warm. The Wright sisters hunched together outside the saddler. They were gossiping, no doubt, which made Elsie both roll her eyes and wish to get closer to see what garnered their interest. Levi Morgan, her closest neighbor, passed by with a bundle under his arm, tipping his hat to her. Elsie nodded in turn.

They crossed the street and passed the dressmaker, the courthouse, and the constable’s home. Continued down the road until it narrowed and grew dusty, past a stream, and through a smattering of woods, all the way to the squire’s home. Elsie was quite out of breath when she arrived. Her guide was gracious enough to lead her to Mr. Parker’s study before continuing on his way. The door was ajar,