Personally, I could never feel safe surrounded by any crowd without a clear path for escape. Dad’s partner, so far as I could tell, preferred never to speak at all unless absolutely forced. We’d never managed a full conversation yet, so I didn’t know Uriah anywhere near well enough to claim that I liked him; I knew for a fact that I didn’t like his brother, much less the danger that he brought to Dad.

Still, at that moment, our gazes met, for the first time, in total understanding.

Dad, of course, was in his element, humming happily to himself as he sat down on his armchair beside me, brass leg fittings sliding smoothly into place. I sighed in resignation. From the rueful affection on Uriah’s face as he turned his own gaze to my father, neither of us was willing to crush that pleasure.

“So,” Dad said, “what’s all this about, then?”

It didn’t take long for me to sum up the information that the others had given me back on Leander’s doorstep—but when I finished, before anyone could add any more details, Dad said, “So what does young Fabian think about it?”

Every gaze in the room turned me, waiting.

I squared my shoulders. “I haven’t told him anything about it...yet.”

Dad raised his eyebrows and took another sip of tea. He didn’t say a word; he didn’t have to. I knew that expression on his face all too well from years of apprenticeship in his workshop. It was the look of patient expectation he wore every time as he waited for me to recognize my own mistake.

It still worked on me, curse it. “I will tell him, obviously,” I ground out. “I’m not a fool. I just...before I go to him, I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

I knew how much this news would hurt Leander. How could I not do my best to soften it—or at least, not choose to prolong the pain by coming back again and again with even more wounding details as the rest of us worked them out?

“It seems to me,” Dad said gently, “that your fiancé himself might be best placed to answer that question.”

“Actually...I don’t know about that.” To my shock, that low, reluctant voice of disagreement came from the wall nearby, where Uriah was letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m the one best placed to dig for answers about what’s happening in town right now, and you know it, Nathaniel.”

Nods and murmurs of approval ran around the over-crowded room, but Dad lowered his teacup with a clatter. “Hold on a minute! You run more than enough risks already, smuggling supplies for all of us. You don’t need to put yourself in even more danger.”