"You are quite the little thief." Lady Harcourt's wink softened her accusation, but the sting of her words pricked me nevertheless. Or perhaps that was my guilt. I felt horrid that I'd dragged her into my scheme. She'd already received a sharp glare from Fitzroy as he'd handed the pistol back to her.
She checked the barrel then placed the gun inside her reticule. The evening gown she wore probably didn't have pockets. It was an exquisite outfit of mourning black satin and lace, with gold beads arranged in leaves on the bodice and down the length of skirt in two panels. A black silk ribbon choker set off the white of her throat and the lustrous sheen of the pearl at the center. It was difficult to tear my gaze away from the gown and her jewelry, but I managed it. It wouldn't do to show too much interest in feminine things.
"The pocket in your skirt wasn't deep," I told her as she sat on a chair in the parlor. Fitzroy and I remained standing, he with his hands casually at his sides, me with mine behind my back. "It's too easy to steal things from shallow pockets."
"I'll have it deepened. Thank you for your advice, Charlie." She bestowed a smile on me that had me blushing. It was more than I deserved. "I see the bullet is missing."
"It's in the wall of the tower room."
Her eyebrows arched. "Was anyone injured?"
"Only Mr. Fitzroy."
She leapt up from the chair. "Lincoln!" She crossed the floor to him, sweeping past me as if I weren't there. I could have easily snatched the reticule from her and she wouldn't have noticed in her agitated state. "Where? Where are you hurt?"
"I am unharmed, Julia." Fitzroy looked uncomfortable as she searched his face in earnest.
"I asked where?" she said with quiet steel.
His lips thinned. "The left shoulder. A graze only. It doesn't hurt."
"Of course it must." She clicked her tongue. "It's typical of you to downplay your injuries. You are fallible, Lincoln, even though you like to think you are not."
Several beats passed, during which they stared at one another in a kind of silent battle of wills. It was almost as if words were exchanged between them and yet none passed their lips. I wasn't sure who'd won, but Lady Harcourt was the first to break the silence.
"May I see your shoulder?"
"There's no point. I've already had it seen to."
"Nevertheless, I would like to assess it for myself."
He turned away from her to tug the bell pull. Her back straightened in offense. "Lincoln, stop being such a child and let me see it."
"I am not the one acting like a child, Julia. We have company."
"Your point?"
"I suggest you don't ignore him. He has been eyeing off your reticule."
She swung round to face me. I could see her temper flaring, but I didn't think she was angry with me. Fitzroy was being terribly rude toward her. It was one thing to speak abrasively to someone who'd ended their prior liaison—surely she must have been the one to end it—but it was quite another to call a lady a child. I wouldn't have stood for it if I were her.
"I won't steal from you again," I said quickly. "Mr. Fitzroy is cruel to blame me."
Her face softened. "He is, isn't he?"
Fitzroy didn't seem to care that I'd called him cruel. No doubt he'd been labeled worse.
Gus arrived, sporting crumbs down the front of his waistcoat. "Boy giving you trouble, sir? Want me to take him away?"
"No. How long until dinner?"
"It's just about ready. Might as well go and sit down. Save me coming back to call you." He trudged off as I heard Lady Harcourt quietly lament the lack of proper servants.
"Shall we?" Fitzroy offered her his arm.
She took it and bestowed a too-sweet smile on him. "Hungry, my dear? Or do you wish to get rid of me?"
"If I wanted to be rid of you, I wouldn't be dining with you."
Her smile faltered and she allowed him to lead her out.
"Come, Charlie," he said. "You need to eat too."
I trailed behind, somewhat stupefied by the invitation to dinner. It seemed silly to worry that I wasn't dressed for the occasion, since it was just the three of us, but they were a beautiful and elegant couple in their eveningwear, and I was disheveled by comparison. The dining room wasn't meant for the likes of me either. It was sized for large parties, with the long mahogany table seating twenty, although it was only set for three tonight. The chandelier suspended above it blazed, catching the facets of the crystal glasses and the diamond earrings dangling from Lady Harcourt's ears. I hunched my shoulders and kept my head low, not wanting them to change their minds and send the scruffy gutter rat from the room.
We sat and Fitzroy poured the wine himself. There was no sign of footmen or a butler, and moments later, Seth and Gus brought in the food. I stared at the platters piled with roast beef and poultry, lobster salad and vegetables. There was so much of it!
"You must serve yourself," Seth whispered in my ear. "Be sure to use the utensils provided and not your hands."
"I am not a Barbarian."
Behind him, Gus snorted a laugh. "Sewer rats are refined fellows now, eh?"
"Cut up his food," Fitzroy told the men, "then remove his knife."
After Seth finished cutting my food, Lady Harcourt arched her brows at Fitzroy, who dismissed the men with a nod. She served herself, placing only a minute portion of each dish on her plate. No wonder her waist was so tiny. I may eat just as little, but only because I wasn't used to so much food and I didn't want to throw it all up later. For one thing, it would be a waste, and for another, Fitzroy's rugs looked expensive.
"You could have returned the pistol to me tomorrow," Lady Harcourt said, passing the peas to Fitzroy. "Why the invitation to dinner?"
"I want you to tell the boy what it is we do here at Lichfield Towers, and why we need him."
"You haven't informed him yet?"
"I tried. He doesn't believe me."
She laughed until her eyes watered. "Why am I not surprised? Lincoln, you aren't very good when it comes to convincing people."
"I had some success in Paris," he said mildly.
"And nobody is more surprised than me. Ordinarily people run from you when you become intense. Which, I might add, is all the time."
I held my breath. I wasn't sure if she were teasing him or accusing him. Nor was I sure how he would take it. He didn't seem like the sort of man just anyone could tease. The longer I spent in their company, the more certain I became that Gus and Seth were right. Fitzroy and Lady Harcourt had been lovers. It wasn't clear if they still were.
"Well, now I know why I was invited to dinner," she said with a smile for Fitzroy. "I thought there had to be another reason."
He said nothing, and I wondered if it was true and he didn't particularly desire her company. It was strange that he could be so cool toward her, whereas her emotions had seemed in danger of boiling over ever since her arrival. I was beginning to think I'd been wrong and he had been the one to end their relationship.
"I explained about the queen's life being in danger," Fitzroy said. "Charlie didn't believe me."
"I see. Well then, after we finish the main course, I'll tell him what he needs to know."
After a few minutes, in which the only sounds were that of chewing, Lady Harcourt asked me some questions. They were innocuous enough, and I answered in a way that gave nothing away. I wanted to know more about her too, but refrained. Boys like me didn't ask impertinent questions of ladies like her, and I was afraid the only questions I could think of were impertinent.
"The boy is positively a chatterbox compared to you, Lincoln," she said as Gus cleared away the dishes.
It was true that he'd not spoken the entire time, but he'd not been addressed either. He took her teasing well enough, by showing no emotion whatsoever.
"Dessert, sir?" Seth asked. "Cook tells me he's made jellies and a trifle."
Jelly! I hadn't had jelly in an age.
I caught Lady Harcourt smiling gently at me out of the corner of my eye and
quickly schooled my features. I didn't want to seem as if I could be bought with a bowl of jelly.
"Thank you, Seth," Fitzroy said. Before the two men left, he asked Lady Harcourt to begin.
She dabbed her mouth with the napkin then folded it up and set it on the table. I found myself wishing she would hurry up. I wanted to hear the story from her lips.
"Has Lincoln mentioned the ministry and its role?" she asked me.
"Not really."
She shook her head at him but he merely sat in his seat at the top of the table and waited. "He is the head of the Ministry of Curiosities. It's a government organization but operates somewhat outside the official boundaries of parliament. Lincoln makes all the day to day decisions, but the ministry is overseen by a committee. The committee decides what curiosities require investigation, but always on Lincoln's advice. He is the heart and soul of this organization. The brains, too."
Her praise of him surprised me after her teasing. If Fitzroy was embarrassed or pleased, he didn't show it.
"The committee also provide the necessary funds," she went on. "I am on the committee, as is Lord Gillingham, whom you've met."
"What are 'curiosities?'"
"Unexplained events. Phenomena that seem to happen for no Earthly rhyme or reason."
"Like ghosts? Angels?"
"Do you believe in ghosts and angels?"
I shrugged one shoulder.
"You are correct. But not only ghosts and angels. Raising the dead is another phenomena that most people would consider an impossibility. The ministry, however, thinks these curiosities—and more—are entirely possible. We seek to understand them better, but also to make sure they cannot harm us. It began as a group of like-minded individuals, with an interest in the supernatural, but has recently been given a more official role. The ministry investigates situations that the police and Home Office cannot get involved in because of their public role. The Ministry of Curiosities is more secretive."
Seth and Gus re-entered the room, both carrying a tray. Seth set his down and I couldn't take my eyes off the wobbling jelly.
"The nature of the crimes we investigate must be kept quiet or the public would panic," Lady Harcourt went on. Clearly it didn't matter what Seth and Gus overheard.
"Then why tell me?" I asked.
"Because we trust that you won't speak of the ministry outside these walls."
"Nobody would believe you anyway," Gus said. "They'll put you in an asylum."
Seth jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.
"The queen and prime minister approve of the ministry?" I asked.
"They would if they knew we existed," Lady Harcourt said.
Gus grunted. "Either that or burn us at the stake for believing in all this magic talk."
"The ministry's existence has been kept secret from them for their own good," Lady Harcourt went on. "Governments come and go. The committee members are involved for life. We all have prominent positions, either at court or in parliament. Our sole purpose is to serve the British Empire and keep queen and country safe—from paranormal forces, rather than military ones."
"Think of us as the sword of the empire," Seth said, puffing out his chest. "And Mr. Fitzroy is the pointy end."
Fitzroy sat listening without saying a word. I'd felt him watching me the entire time, and I wished I knew how to react. I wasn't sure whether to show surprise or fear, or whether I should pretend they were all mad.
"Why him?" I asked. "Why is he the leader?" He was, after all, young for such responsibility. I imagined someone of Gillingham's advanced years would be more suited to a leadership role.
"He was chosen at birth," Lady Harcourt said.
"Chosen at birth?"
"His entire life has been dedicated to becoming the ministry's leader. His education and training were specifically designed to make him the best. There is no one better suited to the position." She shrugged thin, bare shoulders. "No one more capable."
Clearly she hadn't ended the relationship then. I needed no further proof than her effusive admiration and the stony expression on his face.
Chosen. Best. Capable. It all sounded so cold and calculating, yet I supposed it was no different to many gentlemen born into the nobility, raised knowing he would take over from their fathers one day. Even so, it sounded like a dull life. The old me, the dutiful daughter, probably wouldn't have thought so, but the new me did. The thought of being destined to be someone since the day I was born, and never having the opportunity to deviate from that path, sounded like a prison sentence.
"Was your father the ministry's leader before you?" I asked him. Although Lady Harcourt had told me the story, it didn't seem right to ask her the question. "Is that why you were chosen?"
"No."
I waited for further explanation but none came. Yet the air in the room tightened. It took me a moment to realize that the other three people there had gone quite still. Had they also been waiting for an answer? Or did they already know it, and I'd stumbled onto a sensitive topic?
"You are investigating paranormal curiosities," I said to him. "And you want the necromancer girl to help you. Does that mean you are paranormal, sir?"
For a long moment I thought I'd overstepped the line; that I'd gone too far. He simply stared at me, unblinking. What was he waiting for? "No," he eventually said.
"But you got out of the bullet's way. How, if not with an unnatural speed?"
"I'm observant and quite quick."
Quite! He was also the master of understatement.
"No one in the ministry or on the committee has any true paranormal abilities," Lady Harcourt said. "You're our first such employee."
"I'm not working for you." I kept my tone light, but my tight jaw made it sound harsh.
"Why not?"
Because I can't trust you. I can't trust anyone. "I am not a necromancer."
Lady Harcourt opened her mouth to speak, but Fitzroy leaned forward and she closed it again. She seemed anxious to hear what he had to say. We all were. "We thought there was only one in the world," he said. "But it seems there are two. You and the girl."
"I am not a necromancer. How many times do I have to tell you?" I pushed my chair back and stood.
Seth and Gus crowded round me, waiting for an order from their master to grab me and remove me from the room.
"Sit down," Fitzroy snapped.
"You have not eaten your jelly." Lady Harcourt indicated the bowl that Seth had set before me. She smiled. "Stay with us. There's more you need to know."
I picked up my spoon, wishing it were a knife I could throw at Fitzroy. I sat again. "If I must."
She scooped out some jelly but didn't eat it. It wobbled in her spoon as she regarded me. "Someone wishes to use your—a necromancer's—power to harm the queen."
"Who?"
"We don't know. Mr. Fitzroy intercepted a letter from someone in Paris we had been watching. It only bore the man's—or woman's—initials and was addressed to an abandoned house, however we think the letter reached him."
"It did," Fitzroy intoned. "I made sure of it."
"The letter mentioned that a particular girl he'd been seeking—"
"The necromancer?" I asked.
She nodded. "The necromancer he'd been searching so long for had been traced to the house of a London vicar."
I shoveled jelly into my mouth, but it tasted like ashes and was difficult to swallow. I forced it down with a gulp as I tried to digest the news too. The London vicar was my father. "There must be dozens of vicars in London."
"There are. We have not been able to pinpoint which one the letter referred to. We hope he hasn't, either."
He had. It must be the doctor I'd seen leaving Father's house. I was even more glad that I'd not revealed myself to him now. "What does he want with this necromancer girl?"
"To use her power to reanimate his…creations."
I paused, the full spoon at my mouth. "Creations?"
Her already pale
face grew paler. She glanced at Fitzroy and he took over the explanation. "He takes pieces off different corpses and binds them together to make new, more superior ones. All they lack is a spirit that will bring them to life and do his bidding."
My stomach rolled. Bile and jelly rose to my throat. "Why would he do such a thing?"
"To build himself an elite force," Lady Harcourt said. "He takes the long, powerful legs of a fast runner, for example; the strong arms of a laborer or pugilist; the heart and lungs of a good swimmer. And the brain of an intelligent man, or one with knowledge he seeks to use to his advantage."
What kind of monster wanted to do such a thing? The very notion was sickening, but to actually cut up bodies and sew pieces of them together to form a new man… His surgery must be covered in blood and gore…his arms and body too. The very notion was unfathomable.
"Charlie?" Lady Harcourt rose and came round the table. She placed her cool hand on the back of my neck. "You've gone quite ashen."
"It's no wonder," Seth said quietly.
Gus murmured his agreement. "Makes my belly ache, too."
Fitzroy poured me more wine and handed me the glass. He watched as I drank. "Have you ever heard of such a man?"
"Why would I?"
"Street children hear all sorts of things. Perhaps the body of a homeless man has inexplicably disappeared, or someone saw a fellow acting mysteriously near the cemetery. You spend a lot of time at Highgate Cemetery."
So he'd learned that about me too. "I haven't seen or heard anything. If the man looks like a regular gentleman, he could be anyone."
It must have been the doctor I'd seen at Father's house. Only a man with medical knowledge could piece bodies back together. But I didn't know his name. I didn't know where he lived. I couldn't help Fitzroy and Lady Harcourt find him, even if I'd wanted to.
Fitzroy returned to his seat, but Lady Harcourt remained at my side, stroking my hair. "My spies told me what happened at the police station," he said. "Word gets around quickly, particularly when something sensational occurs. I suspect this man's spies also informed him. He will be looking for you now."
"You've got it wrong, Mr. Fitzroy. It weren't me that did that."
"We will keep you safe, here, away from him. He can't get you while you are under my protection."
I snorted. "You don't even know what he looks like." Lady Harcourt's hand drew too close to my fringe and I pulled away. "I ain't a necromancer. I can't help you."
She returned to her chair. "Not even for a soft bed, food and clean clothes?"
"I ain't the necromancer," I said again. I hadn't spent five years surviving on the street, doing everything possible to hide my identity and keep safe, to throw it away for a queen who meant nothing to me. "I wish I could help you but I can't. Seems to me you need the girl. Better find her before he does."
"We will. Now that we know there are two of you—"
I slammed my palms down on the table, sending the jelly into a jiggling frenzy. "I ain't a necromancer!" I pushed up from the chair, but my passage was blocked by Gus and Seth. Arms crossed, scowls on their faces, they presented an impassible wall. There would be no distracting them tonight. Besides, I had no doubt if I did that Fitzroy would catch me.
"I think that's enough for tonight," Lady Harcourt said. "A good rest is in order. Take him to his room."
"Sir?" Seth asked.
Fitzroy nodded. "I'll follow shortly."
"Lincoln?" Lady Harcourt arched her perfectly drawn eyebrows at him. "Why do you need to go too?"
"I've decided he is less likely to escape from me. I've moved him into my rooms."
"Your rooms? Permanently?"
"Yes."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
A little color infused her cheeks and for one awful moment I thought she knew. She must have seen through my disguise and known I wasn't a boy, and that allowing me to stay in his rooms would be inappropriate. "Who will trace his origins tomorrow if you are watching him?"
I let out a long breath.
"Seth and Gus will be given full instructions."
"Is it wise to give them such an important task?"
Gus's mouth flattened, and he looked as if he wanted to challenge her. Seth merely flushed and stared down at his boots.
"They're capable enough, and they need the practice. Besides, I have a better idea of where they should concentrate on their search now." This last he said to me, and somewhat smugly, if I wasn't mistaken.
Lady Harcourt frowned. "I still don't think—"
"I have decided."
She bristled and glared at him. He glared back at her, their silent battle of wills once more making the air in the room feel tense and tight.
"Send for my carriage," she said to Seth.
He seemed relieved to be dismissed and disappeared from the room. Lady Harcourt marched out of the dining room and into the hall. She gathered her hat and gloves, and Fitzroy helped her on with her coat. They didn't speak. Neither his hands nor his gaze lingered at her bare shoulders or neck. It was as if he didn't even notice the silky white skin, or care that she had moved closer to him than mere friends ought. There was nothing of the lover about the way he treated her. I wasn't surprised. I couldn't imagine him consumed with passion for her—or for anyone, for that matter.
Seth returned and the carriage wheels soon crunched on the gravel outside. He opened the front door for her and bowed. Lady Harcourt offered him her hand and he kissed it. Gus didn't receive the same privilege and he didn't look like he expected to.
"Walk me out, Lincoln," she said in a mild voice.
Fitzroy's gaze slid to me.
"I won't try to escape," I told him.
"Take him to the library and wait for me there." He followed Lady Harcourt outside.
Gus nodded at a door leading off from the entrance. "Library's in there."
Seth led the way and Gus followed behind me. I thought there'd been a great many books in Fitzroy's rooms, but the library held triple. Bookshelves reached to the ceiling on all the walls, leaving some gaps between them for lamps, windows and framed pictures. A circular iron chandelier, sporting dozens of candles, plunged from the ceiling rose, stopping just above the round table. Seth lit some in candlesticks and handed one to Gus.
"Over here," I told them. "I want to see the books."
"We ain't at your beck and call," Gus growled.
I ignored him and strolled around the room, brushing my fingers along the spines of the leather bound tomes, breathing their earthy scent into my lungs.
"Don't think about throwing them," Seth said, trailing behind me with a candle.
I paused at the window. Fitzroy and Lady Harcourt stood at the carriage door, talking. Or, rather, arguing, if her expression was anything to go by. His back was to me, but in the light cast by the moon and the coach lamps, her face looked stern, her body rigid.
"What do you think they're arguing about?" I asked.
Seth peered over my shoulder. "It's hard to say. You, perhaps, and Death's decision to keep you close. His decision to give Gus and me more responsibility."
"Or his decision not to take her to his bed," Gus said, coming up behind me on my other side and watching through the window too.
"You think it was his choice to end their…liaison?" I asked.
"Maybe."
Lady Harcourt spun round and climbed into the coach, ignoring Fitzroy's outstretched hand. He pulled it back as she slammed the door closed.
"If it were," Seth said, as the coach drove off, "he probably didn't end it the way a gentleman should."
"Why do you say that?"
"You may not have noticed, but he's not good with people."
I snorted. "I noticed."
"I'm not sure he knows how to treat a lady properly. I certainly don't think he understands the fair sex."
"That don't stop Lady H from throwing herself at him," Gus said. "Other women, too."
; Seth rounded on him. "Lady Harcourt does not throw herself at anyone. She's much too—" He broke off when Fitzroy appeared at the door.
"Upstairs," Fitzroy said, turning away. "Now."
Gus and Seth gripped one arm each and led me out of the library. We followed Fitzroy up the stairs and along the corridor, then they shoved me into the room after him and shut the door. He locked it and pocketed the key. I swallowed hard as Fitzroy faced me. It was one thing to pretend to be a boy in his presence during the day, but now I had to spend an entire night with a man who made my blood alternately run hot and cold. A man whose gaze seemed to see everything.
CHAPTER 6