Twenty-Two - Unified Front

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"What?" Cath and James exclaimed, in unison.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Cath said, her eyes distressed.

"It isn't that easy, you know. Even if I had–"

"Right, right." Cath waved her hand, clearly dismissive of the details. "What exactly did the man say?"

I sighed, trying to recall it. "Huntley gave me four days to make my mind up. He threatened the destruction of the world as we know it if I didn't marry him, and would have claimed my father's title for himself. Then we would have had some real trouble."

"You're bloody right, you would've," Cath said, and she sounded a little hurt. "You could've come to me. Confided, at least."

"Cath, I'm sorry, truly I am." I took both her hands in mine. "My hands were tied. He would have destroyed us whether he was married to me or not."

"You're probably right," Cath sighed, looked away before I could see the affront in her expression. "Huntley is an awful man, no two ways about it. But you could have told us sooner, so we wouldn't have gone on thinking his coup was out of the blue."

"I would have, darling, honestly," I said, followed by a shock. Darling? Where had that come from?

Cath giggled, pressing her fingertips to her lips. "I don't mean to laugh, Em, only...you've never called me that before."

"Marriage changes you in more ways than one, Cath," I said, trying to hide my embarrassment. "Now this Huntley business...what should we do about it?"

"Make him think he's won, I say," said James, his eyes a hard gunmetal grey. "Then snatch it out of his clutches at just the right moment."

Christopher reentered the room just then, his gaze flicking over the three of us as we all fell silent. "What have I missed?"

"Well, your wife just told us of Huntley's proposal," Cath said, the emphasis on wife quite clear. "Surely it is the reason for his takeover of the Order."

"Undoubtedly it is." Christopher reached the sofa and curled his fingers over the back, knuckles white. "And what is it we plan to do?"

James reiterated the point quickly, with another addition – find that bloody Essence Machine. Undoubtedly sodding Huntley had moved it.

"How long do we give him victory?" Cath asked.

Christopher's gaze locked on hers. "As long as it takes. That is all I can say at present."

||

"I believe Cath was flirting with you before," I said to him over tea that afternoon. "The way she was looking at you–"

"She wasn't looking at me any way." Christopher's eyes twinkled at me over his teacup. "Or are you already feeling protective of me?"

"I just–" I spluttered, although he had certainly cut straight to the real reason.

"You mustn't worry about Catherine," he said, taking my hand and squeezing it. "Once, before I met you, my father encouraged me to court her. As you can see, nothing came of it. And besides, I believe we are far more suited to each other, don't you?"

I felt a blush rising rapidly into my cheeks. "Do you mean that as a compliment?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but we were interrupted again, this time by Lowell.

"Milord, telegram for you from London. Kingsley again."

Christopher rolled his eyes, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. "For a man who is set to take on the responsibility of the Order, he certainly hasn't the foggiest idea of what he's doing."

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