It had been decided that Christopher would ride home with Daisy and James, as the Consul’s house was only a few blocks from Curzon Street and Kit wished to use the lab there to study the pithos. Lucie would go with Matthew, which suited her excellently. James tended to ask questions. Matthew, however, did not.

Lucie settled herself in Matthew’s carriage as they rattled out of Nelson Square, Matthew complaining all the while that traffic in London was bad enough without demons leaping into perfectly decent people’s vehicles. Lucie knew he was merely venting his feelings and didn’t expect an answer, so she didn’t provide one, just looked at him affectionately. His blond hair was disheveled from the fight, his jacket torn. He was looking the part of a romantic hero, if a slightly dissipated one.

The carriage lurched as they turned a corner, and Lucie realized that while she’d been lost in thought, Matthew had dropped his face into his hands. That was troubling, and not within the usual range of his moods.

“Matthew, are you quite all right?” she asked.

“Right as rain,” Matthew said unconvincingly, his words muffled by his hands.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucie asked lightly, trying a different tack.

“What it is like,” Matthew said slowly, “to be entirely undeserving of the person you love most in the world.”

“What a very sort of novelish complaint,” Lucie said, after a moment. She had no idea what to make of this dramatic statement. Wasn’t James the person Matthew loved most? Why would he have suddenly decided he didn’t deserve James? “I don’t suppose you want to tell me about it.”

“Certainly not.”

“All right, then, I have to tell you something.”

Matthew looked up. His eyes were dry, if a little red-rimmed. “Oh, Raziel,” he said, “that never portends anything good.”

“I’m not going home,” Lucie informed him. “I’d planned to stop there and then leave again, but there’s no time now. I need to get to Limehouse, and you’re going to take me there.”

“Limehouse?” Matthew looked incredulous. He ran his fingers through his curls, making them stand out even more wildly than before. “Lucie, please tell me you aren’t going back to that sailcloth factory.”

“Fear not. I’m going to Hypatia Vex’s new magic shop. I’m meeting Anna and Ariadne there, so you needn’t trouble yourself that I’ll be unattended.”

“Limehouse isn’t in the least bit on the way to Marylebone,” Matthew said, but he was smiling a little. “By the Angel, you’re a schemer, Luce. When did you make this plan?”