Page 144 of Immortal Rose

Hornsby returned to the desk. “In truth, Miss Lockwood—”

“My lady,” Tommy corrected, reading his lips.

“My lady,” Hornsby said, making it sound altogether like a question. “I rather think you might consider leaving his commonplace book with the House of Rosebourne. I realize it is likely your aim to inherit the business, but your grandfather did not leave the company nor this property to you outright, as your mother rejected that inheritance so callously. The perfumery staff and the board have the business well in hand and would be far more comfortable keeping his notes—”

“Forgive me if I don’t care a whit about what the board prefers,” I said. “If he left me his notes, it was for a reason.”

What reason, I couldn’t possibly say. A commonplace book usually held a gentleman’s notes or collections of articles and quotations meant to be kept for a lifetime. But as Hornsby had said himself, William Rosebourne hadn’t left me the company or the fortune to go with it.

The solicitor looked as if he’d swallowed his tongue. Willie snickered.

“You haven’t the slightest notion what it means to run such a business,” Hornsby began, his jaw set.

“Mr. Hornsby”—I enjoyed the flash of alarm on his face as I advanced a step toward him—“I’ll allow that I have not been at the helm of a business this size, nor have I created products at this scale, but I am a perfumer, and I know my trade. It is in my blood.”

For years, I had been running my own perfumery business, albeit far smaller. But the economics were the same regardless: supplies, labor, and sales.

Hornsby snorted, a sound that made my temper heat in an instant.

He seized his hat and walking stick from the desk. “As I have executed my duty, our business is now finished. I have instructed the City Police to remove anyone who remains in the house after two o’clock, regardless of who they are.”

My jaw set mulishly. “I understand.”

“Then good day to you all,” he said, cramming his hat on his head. Tommy gave him a narrow look as he stepped aside, allowing him to pass.

“Bloody hell,” Willie said into the silence. “I’ve met more pleasant worms.”

Felicity looked back over her shoulder. “At several points he looked as though he was holding his breath—did he really think you’d wear some perfume to enchant him?”

“I wish I had,” I groused, coming to help her unlatch the crate. “It might have given him something to truly complain about.”

The lock on the crate was rusted, as if it had been shut and forgotten long ago. My soul gave a little shudder at the inhuman groan of the metal as it finally released. We lifted the lid.

The Longmount brothers hung back a safe distance, trying to see over our heads.

“Well?” Willie prompted. “What is it?”

The crystal perfume flacons had been kept with immaculate care, protected from light and dust. The warm wash of magic that swirled up through the clashing scents sparked in my blood, dizzying. I felt Felicity’s gaze on me, seeking permission before she carefully lifted one from its velvet compartment.

“‘Arrow of Adoration,’” she read. “A love perfume?”

I nodded, momentarily unable to speak. The handwriting on the label, the essence that clung to the cold crystal—that was Mama’s. She had been the one to make these perfumes and had left them here, despite their great value.

. . . as your mother rejected that inheritance so callously.

No, that wasn’t right. That was . . .

I stood, my head spinning. “Felicity, can you make a list of the perfumes?”

“What is it?” Tommy asked.

I turned so he could read my lips, backing toward the door. “I need to ask our worm a question before he wriggles away.” Willie started after me, but I held up my hand. “Alone. I’ll be back in just a moment, I promise.”

Before anyone else could protest, I darted into the hallway. Picking up my skirt to allow for more movement, I hurried down the stairs, the soles of my boots sliding across the marble with the force of my run. I found the solicitor just as he reached the entrance to the porte cochere, where his coach waited.

“Mr. Hornsby!”

He straightened as if I had shot him. For a moment, I was sure he would run through the door to escape me.