Chapter 9The hand in Henry’s squeezed tighter as the enchanted horseless—and fairly noiseless, which was pleasant—carriage turned onto the opulent streets of Mayfair. The trip had been relatively quick and quiet and uneventful, so the pressure of Theo’s fingers came as a surprise. Nerves, Henry concluded, and could not determine if his or Theo’s were greater. Perhaps they were equally nervous for different reasons. Their worries were not without merit.
Theo felt at home in his library and his tower, surrounded by books and mint tea and perfectly straight frames hanging on the walls. He deserved to be with those assistants who so obviously respected and adored him: the kind of people who worried about their precious librarian and delivered personal magical gifts upon his return. He should
