Dangerous Thoughts

Chapter 13

Cecilia led them across the ballroom, over to a small group of four. "This is Mister and Madame Hughes," Cecilia said, introducing an older couple first. "Of Hughes Rail LLC."

"Charmed," Madame Hughes said, while Mister Hughes tilted his head.

"And this is Madame Gray," Cecilia introduced. "A talented—"

"Seamstress," Charles finished, flashing Madame Gray a smile. "We've met." She was a client of his who had asked Charles for a collection of memories of her late husband after he had died suddenly earlier that year. Charles had wanted to offer his services for her free of charge, but she had insisted on paying him with an enchanted dress, designed to fit any wearer perfectly. Charles hadn't known what to do with the dress; it had been sitting on the corner of his desk for several months now. "It's nice to see you again, Madame."

"You as well, Mister Abbot," she said with a kind grin.

"And last but not least," Cecilia said, gesturing to the final gentleman in the group, "my cousin, Henry Monroe."

The introduction had mostly been for Juliette's benefit, as Charles and James had met Henry many times before. Still, Henry gave them both a sly smile. "Hello, Charles. James," he said, his voice lingering over the second name.

Henry was the sort of man who knew how attractive he was—tall, slender, with dark hair that was always a little bit too long but somehow made him more attractive. He had been called a scoundrel before—both behind his back and to his face—but he didn't seem to mind the label.

He also was fabulously wealthy. Besides being a Monroe, he worked in the gas industry, leading the transition from open flames to lights that functioned with the flip of a switch.

"Good evening, Henry," James greeted. "Nice to see you, as always."

Charles watched their interaction with keen awareness. He saw the hungry gaze in Henry's eyes as they fell onto his brother. James' face, meanwhile, was more reserved—although Charles knew that didn't mean much. James liked to keep his personal life private, and Charles had a sneaking suspicion that he didn't dare show his true feelings with his brother at his side.

They would make such a good pair, Charles thought, looking between them. Dark-haired, brooding, handsome Henry paired with James' bright spirit?

Charles was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that Juliette had spoken up.

"...you also own the mine at the edge of town, right?" Juliette was asking the Hughes.

"Why, yes," Mister Hughes said with a smile poking out from beneath his large grey mustache. "Very knowledgeable young girl."

"And you hire children for the work sometimes?"

"Of course," Mister Hughes said. "Smaller, more nimble fingers, and bodies perfect for fitting into tight spaces. They are integral to our operations—and of course, we offer them a wage for their hard work."

Charles could see where Juliette's thought process was: she was already in investigation mode, trying to parse out if the Hughes were involved in this cult. It was a good thought—the mines did employ several children, putting them in a questionable working environment even if there was pay.

If you wanted to make some children disappear, Charles thought, all you have to do is stage a mine collapse...

Still, Charles didn't want Juliette to draw too much attention, so he placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's admirable that you're doing so much for the impoverished children in this city," he said to Mister Hughes.