The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele Book 1)

The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele Book 1) by C.J. Archer

Book: The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele Book 1) by C.J. Archer Read Free Book Online
Authors: C.J. Archer
her rather charming cousin. I tried to think of something to say, but in the end, I simply kept silent.
    Mr. Glass laughed and waved off Cyclops's answer. Cyclops scowled in return. "I'm worried Willie's smart mouth will get her into trouble," Mr. Glass told me.
    "She seems like the sort who can get herself out of trouble well enough," I said.
    "You should let her hear you say that. She'd like you more for it." He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. "The class of men she's playing against here are more cunning than the cowboys she's used to. They act all charming and gentlemanly, but they're not. They're devious."
    I wondered if he was speaking from direct experience or observation only. He hadn't been on our shores long, but he'd clearly come into contact with charming gentlemen who turned out to be devious.
    The similarity to himself struck me like a blow. He may not be English, but he was acting the part of a gentleman around me. The more I got to know him, the more I suspected it was all a charade. Few open, innocent gentlemen could thrash three armed thugs, or instill fear in American cowboys. An outlaw, on the other hand, could.
    "Willie'll be fine," Duke said to Mr. Glass. "If she gets arrested, we'll just crack her out of jail like we did that time in Tombstone."
    I gasped. "You broke her out of jail? Or a cemetery?"
    "Holding cell," Cyclops said with a shrug. "Tombstone is a town."
    "Strange name for a town."
    "Willie was innocent," Duke assured me.
    Good lord. I felt as if I'd stepped into a sensation novel.
    "Apologies, Miss Steele. I see we've alarmed you," Mr. Glass said.
    "Not at all. I'm not easily alarmed."
    "So I've seen," he said with a hint of admiration and a warm smile. "Few women would have had the presence of mind to trip a man up when she was cornered. Indeed, most would have spent the rest of the day recovering from the ordeal you endured this morning."
    "I suppose." I couldn't look at him. His praise was too much, and that intense look in his eyes was back again, as if he were reliving the moment he'd parted my corset and laid his hands on my bare skin.
    "A brave lady," Cyclops said, raising his glass in salute. "You'd be well suited to the Wild West, Miss Steele."
    "Thank you, but it sounds a little too wild for my tastes."
    Mr. Glass rose. "Perhaps I should go with Willie."
    "No," both Cyclops and Duke said. They both glanced at me.
    "Check the time." Duke nodded at the broken clock on the mantel. The hands hadn't moved all night. "It's late. Isn't it, Cyclops?"
    "Too late for someone who's been unwell," Cyclops agreed.
    Mr. Glass came around the table and held his hand out to me. I took it and rose. "I have to go out anyway."
    "Why?" Duke asked.
    "To make sure Abercrombie doesn't pursue his foolish claim of theft. Miss Steele is innocent, and I intend to make sure nothing comes of his accusation."
    I gaped at him, but he merely smiled. His thumb stroked my hand in a most intimate fashion, sending my heart into little somersaults in my chest. I decided against protesting yet again over his need to do anything about Abercrombie. It was in my best interests to let him think that I trusted him.
    "May I take that clock to my rooms tonight?" I asked instead. "I'd like to try and fix it."
    "Of course." He plucked it off the mantel and handed it to me. "I wound it, but it still refuses to work."
    I returned to my room with the clock and pulled out the pieces of the mechanism, laying each of them carefully on the table. I fished out the toolkit from my valise and cleaned each wheel, lever, and pin with a cloth. I took my time, finding comfort in the soothing task that came so naturally to me. I'd been cleaning mechanisms for as long as I could remember. After nearly an hour, I discovered the culprit—one of the springs had snapped. The clock couldn't be fixed until a spare had been purchased.
    I set the pieces aside and contemplated what to do next. With Willie and Mr. Glass out, and Cyclops most

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