Vow of Deception: Ministry of Curiosities, Book #9

by C. J. Archer

  She dropped the egg she'd been nibbling. It missed the plate and fell to the floor. "Oh," she said heavily. "How did it happen?"

  "Swinburn shot him."

  She gasped. "He shot him?"

  "After you met with Gawler today, he went to confront Swinburn. According to Swinburn, they went to an alley where Gawler changed into his wolf form. He attacked Swinburn who then shot him."

  "Did you see it?"

  "No. We heard the gunshot but were too late."

  "Have you spoken to Gawler's spirit?"

  I shook my head. "There is no need at the moment. We have no reason to doubt Swinburn. He admits to shooting Gawler and it's easy to believe that Gawler was angry enough to attack. According to his neighbors, he was seething when he left his home."

  She nodded slowly. "I showed him the newspaper article that mentioned him by name. He became angry."

  I glanced at Lincoln. He urged me with a nod. But I couldn't bring myself to accuse her of encouraging Gawler. "Swinburn thinks you will now be pack leader because they respect you," I said instead. "He told us that since he didn't kill Gawler in a fair fight, he won't be accepted as their leader."

  She nodded, not at all surprised by the news. "I am the logical choice, even though I haven't been with them long. None of them want the leadership, you see. They're all rather plodding in nature."

  I blew out a breath and sucked in some courage. "Harriet, I must ask this of you. Did you stoke Gawler's anger?"

  She picked up another egg. "He needed no stoking."

  "Did you encourage him to confront Swinburn?"

  She nibbled the egg.

  "Harriet?"

  "I planted the seed in his head, yes."

  "And then went to Swinburn's house to warn him."

  She glanced at Lincoln then nodded.

  I sat back. "Why? How could you betray your own leader like that?"

  "I didn't know Sir Ignatius would kill him!" She dropped the egg and rubbed her forehead. "I only warned him in an attempt to ingratiate myself into his good graces. I thought if I could show some loyalty to him and not Gawler, he'd believe me when I asked to join his pack. I did it for you, Charlie, and for the ministry. I need to become Swinburn's confidant to spy on him properly. He needs to trust me." She clutched my hands and her eyes filled with tears. "You must believe me, Charlie. I would never have encouraged Gawler to go if I thought it would be his final act." She drew in a shuddery breath. "Poor man. To think—Swinburn shot him. Why not simply fight him honorably? They could injure one another yet not have the fight end in death. We do it all the time to settle disputes. Why shoot to kill?"

  "To blame him for the Old Nichol deaths," Lincoln said. "The police believe they have their murderer now. They won't look elsewhere."

  "And Swinburn becomes the city's hero," Seth added with a twist of his lips. "All because he happened to have a gun on him."

  Harriet grasped her throat above her lace collar. "What will they do with Gawler? Are they going to cut him open and fiddle around inside his body?"

  "Yes," Seth said.

  She covered her mouth. I tried to comfort her, but it felt awkward, stilted. I couldn't decide whether she was acting or if I believed her to be as innocent as she claimed. I decided not to tell her the other reason we thought Swinburn killed Gawler—to eliminate a rival pack's leader. Since she would now be leader, it would be an outright accusation directed at her. I couldn't do it without more evidence.

  I hoped I would never find that evidence. I didn't want Harriet to be guilty of something so cruel.

  "The police will investigate Gawler's associates," Lincoln said. "Expect a visit from a Detective Inspector Fullbright."

  She whimpered. "Investigate me?"

  Seth crouched before her and took her hands from me. He waited until she met his earnest gaze. "You're the wife of a peer and heavily pregnant. They won't accuse you of anything. But the rest of the pack may come under suspicion of being werewolves. If you're able to contact them, warn them to avoid going for a run until this blows over."

  She nodded. "I will. Thank you, Seth. You're a dear man."

  He was certainly better at comforting than me.

  I asked Lincoln on the way home what he thought of Harriet's reaction to our questions. "Could you tell if she was lying when she said she didn't suspect Swinburn would kill Gawler?"

  He shook his head. "My seer's instincts failed me. I had to use regular human intuition."

  "Oh dear."

  He laughed softly. "She did not seem too surprised or upset over Gawler's death, only that it was a shooting."

  I slumped forward only to straighten again when my corset dug into uncomfortable places. I'd only just taken to wearing them on a regular basis because I grew tired of Lady Vickers tsk tsking every time I saw her of a morning. I was still getting used to the restriction of movement. "That was my thought too," I said. "Lincoln, I think she may have double-crossed us, and is not spying on Swinburn after all but has befriended him."

  "Then we can no longer trust her."

  Chapter 11

  We got through the night without a visit from rabbits, armies or the authorities. Alice looked exhausted the following morning as she, Lady Vickers and I drove to the dressmaker's shop in Dover Street. I suspected her lack of sleep explained why we'd not had a visit from otherworldly beings.

  Lady Vickers wrapped Alice's knee with her closed fan. "Alice! Wake up!"

  Alice blinked furiously and straightened her spine. "I wasn't a sleep. The motion of the carriage is making me drowsy, that's all. I'll be fine once we start shopping."

  "Did you sleep at all last night?" I asked her.

  "A little."

  "You're worried the army will use your dreams as their portal to come here, aren't you?"

  She nodded.

  "You mustn't fret," Lady Vickers said, spreading out her fan. "Lack of sleep will dull your wits, and you will need them all if we are to face an army."

  "She's right," I said."

  "Of course I am."

  "I'll nap this afternoon while the rest of the household is awake," Alice assured us. "Speaking of which, where did Lincoln go last night?"

  "Nowhere," I said as the carriage slowed.

  "I saw him crossing the lawn toward the house at about three."

  He hadn't mentioned going out when I saw him at breakfast. Usually he summarized his nocturnal activities for all of us, but this morning he'd said nothing.

  And two days ago he'd come home smelling of lavender.

  "He was probably conducting some sort of investigation," Lady Vickers said, watching me closely.

  "That must be it," Alice chimed in.

  I forced a smile for their sakes but I didn't like it when Lincoln kept secrets from me. It usually meant he was doing something dangerous.

  I put Lincoln from my mind as I submitted to the dressmaker's ministrations that began with the tightening of my corset laces. Apparently my waist wasn't tiny enough, although I thought her somewhat rude for suggesting it, as well as wrong. While the comforts of Lichfield and Cook's cooking had seen me put on weight in the last year, I was still on the thin side. My breasts were a particular disappointment, although the detailed beading on the bodice provided a distraction for the eye.

  "There," the dressmaker said, stepping back to admire it on me. "It suits you very well."

  "Oh, Charlie," Alice said on a breath. "You look lovely."

  Lady Vickers flapped her fan rapidly but it did not hide the tears shining in her eyes. She simply nodded in agreement.

  "Do not cry, Lady V," I said, smiling. "This is a happy occasion."

  She nodded again and dabbed the corner of her eye with her little finger. "That fitted shape shows off your narrow waist, and the simplicity of the skirt is as elegant as you said it would be. It falls beautifully to the floor."

  "It's a thoroughly modern style that suits you superbly," the dressmaker said. "You have an excellent eye for fashion, Miss Hollow
ay."

  "Miss Everheart has an excellent eye," I said. "I simply agreed with her ideas."

  Alice smiled and blushed.

  "I'll be sure to provide a detailed description to the newspapers," Lady Vickers said.

  I twirled to get the full effect in the mirror. "The newspapers won't be interested in me."

  "Nonsense! I've already scripted a headline for them—homeless waif marries one of London's richest men and second most eligible bachelor."

  Alice laughed. "It's a little long."

  "There's no point in such a beautiful gown if no one gets to see it or read about it."

  "My close friends and Lincoln's family will see it," I told her as I did another twirl. I liked the way the white silk flared at the hem. "Admit it, Lady V, you just want to make your enemies jealous."

  Her eyes shone, but not with tears anymore. "I have put it about that you are like a daughter to me for that very reason. Now it's time to show you off."

  "I'm not sure I want to be shown off."

  "Indulge me, Charlie. Seth is not likely to be wed soon if he maintains his stubborn attitude. You are my only hope to rub my good fortune in my enemies' faces."

  The dressmaker and her assistant helped me out of the gown then buttoned me into my day clothes again. We finalized a delivery time and stepped out of the shop into an oppressive summer's day.

  The syrupy air clung to my skin and weighed me down. We waded through it to our carriage, parked several feet away. Gus lounged on the driver's seat, flapping his hat near his face, his eyes half closed.

  "This heat!" Lady Vickers wailed. "I can't stand it."

  "There's an ice man over there," Alice said, pointing toward a cart on the opposite side of the street. "Shall we get one?"

  "Good idea," Gus called down. "I'll have lemon."

  We left Lady Vickers behind and darted through the traffic to the cart. We paid for four lemon ices in penny licks and were about to head back when I looked up, straight into the wintry gaze of Lady Harcourt.

  "Working hard on the ministry's behalf, I see," she said in a tone as chilly as the ices I held in each hand.

  "A bride is allowed time off for a wedding gown fitting," Alice said, matching the tone.

  Lady Harcourt angled her face to peer up at Alice. "Did I address you? No, I did not. Why would I? You're nothing to me. As are you, Charlotte. Nothing."

  I huffed out a laugh. The hint of madness in her response was hardly surprising, and I no longer felt the sting of her barbed words. Whether I was indeed nothing to her didn't matter—she was of no consequence to me anymore.

  "It's far too hot to stand here talking to you. My ices are melting. Good day, Julia," I said, not using her title.

  Her spine stiffened at the slight. "You little sewer rat," she hissed. "You always hated me, even when I tried to help you."

  Now that I could not let pass. "Help me? You tricked me, betrayed me, belittled me, and more besides. But it seems that is not enough for you. You've betrayed us all by giving away ministry secrets to a man who would see us destroyed."

  "Ignatius?" She scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

  I stepped up to her so that we were mere inches apart. I could smell her perfume, as cloying as the heat swamping me. "Make no mistake, Swinburn wants the ministry closed. He's using you to find out everything he can to cause us problems with the authorities."

  She stretched out her lovely, slender neck. She resembled an elegant swan…and then she spoiled the effect by opening her mouth. "You have no proof. Ignatius is merely protecting himself and his pack."

  "If you believe that, you're more of a fool than I thought. He's using you, Julia. He's using you and will discard you the moment he succeeds in getting what he wants."

  "And what does he want, Charlotte? Your head on a spike?"

  "Not mine. Lincoln's."

  The color leached from her face but she remained as stiff as a statue. "You do have a flair for the dramatic. Ignatius and Lincoln are not friends, but Ignatius wishes no harm to befall him. I wouldn't have helped him if he did. He simply likes to know things, but he rarely acts on that knowledge."

  "Ask him how the authorities and The Star came to know about the ministry. Ask him how they know about our archives. Ask him why an MP by the name of Yallop wants Lincoln arrested for conspiracy to murder simply because he is protecting the names in those files. Then take a long look in the mirror and ask yourself if you're happy to have played a role in Swinburn's war against Lincoln and the ministry."

  She drew in short, sharp breaths, as if she couldn't fill her lungs. Then her features sharpened and her eyes narrowed to slits. "How dare you accuse me? Me! I love Lincoln! I would never—"

  "My ices are melting." I strode off, my blood at boiling point, my face hot. "Is she really so stupid?" I asked Alice as we strode back to the carriage. "Does she truly believe Swinburn wishes us no ill will? That he simply wanted to acquire knowledge but not use it?"

  "It's hard to imagine she could be that naive, but she did look shocked. Perhaps she simply thought Swinburn would use the information she gave him to blackmail Lincoln, not see him arrested. I don't think she wants Lincoln harmed."

  "No, just punished." I stormed up to the carriage and passed a penny lick cup to Gus. "I'm sorry it's a little melted."

  "Was that Lady H you were talking to?" he asked.

  "Yes. She ruined an otherwise pleasant morning."

  "She's got a habit of that."

  * * *

  I found myself at a loose end in the afternoon yet unable to settle to anything. I wanted to voice my frustrations about Lady Harcourt to Lincoln, but he and Seth were still out. They were taking it in turns to watch Swinburn and his pack, something that would be difficult to manage on their own. Lincoln had refused Gus's help, saying he needed to be our coachman for the day as well as assist with the cooking and cleaning. We were starting to feel stretched too thin.

  I wanted to help Cook in the kitchen, but he claimed there was little to do since he planned on only a light meal in such heat. So I patrolled the rooms and kept an eye on the lawn for any armies that may suddenly appear. Alice and Lady Vickers both napped. The house seemed too quiet and empty.

  The scrunch of wheels on the gravel drive had me jumping off the sofa and running to the window, but it was not an army's siege engine. The approaching brougham's deep black paint swallowed the sunshine and my restless mood. Then I saw the snake escutcheon on the side and groaned. I wanted a visit from neither Lord nor Lady Gillingham now. He was never a welcome sight, and I wasn't sure what to say to her at the moment.

  Their footman lowered the folding step and opened the door. His mistress took his hand and allowed him to assist her down. Harriet supported her round belly with her other hand and broke into a smile when she saw me through the window.

  I couldn't pretend to be out now. I opened the front door and welcomed her inside. "Still no Doyle?" she asked. "Or Whistler?"

  "I've allowed them more time off—"

  "But the wedding is the day after tomorrow! Have you lost your mind?"

  "We're coping well enough."

  She clicked her tongue and appeared to be about to say something else, only to pause and clutch her pregnant belly.

  "Are you all right?" I asked, taking her arm.

  "I would like to sit down."

  "Come into the parlor. The staircase is much too difficult in your condition." I steered her into the parlor and eased her onto the sofa. "Can I get you anything?"

  "No, thank you. Come and sit with me." She patted the sofa beside her. "I feel quite all right now. I just have these pains every now and again."

  "Have you spoken to the midwife about them?"

  "I've decided not to engage a midwife. Not a human one, anyway." She bit her lip and a small crease formed between her eyebrows. "I'm worried what the baby will look like when it comes out, you see. Not because I care, but Gilly's right—we don't want to alarm anyone if it should be in beast form. So
I've engaged one of my pack friends, only she's not always available when I need her. She's a little…"

  "Unreliable?"

  "Drunk."

  "Oh. What about someone from Swinburn's pack? Surely the women from both packs have given birth before. Who helps them?"

  "Midwives help those in Swinburn's pack, and family members assist those in Gawler's—I mean mine. They can't afford midwives. Apparently the babies are always born looking human, but I won't take that risk, and Gilly certainly won't." She rubbed her belly. "So you see, I may be all alone for the birth."

  "You won't be alone. I'm sure your pack mate will sober up long enough to assist. And your husband will be there."

  "Gilly! Lord, no. I don't want him in the house at all when my time comes. He'll just be a bore and get in the way, demanding this and that, and probably offending my pack mate, too. She's got quite a temper and it wouldn't surprise me if she struck him to shut him up. He can come across as quite offensive to some, you know."

  "Yes," I said wryly. "I know."

  She sighed and gave me a small smile. "I feel better already for having seen you, Charlie. You always manage to cheer me up. I was growing quite lonely at home. Not being able to run with my pack is awfully frustrating."

  "You'll run with them again soon. Did you manage to get word to them about laying low for a while?"

  She nodded as she plucked off her gloves. "Thank you for the warning. Tell me, have you thought any more about Sir Ignatius's motive for shooting Gawler?"

  Is that why she was really here? To gather information to pass on to Swinburn? She had a nerve, if that were the case. "No."

  "I'm sure you have more important things on your mind at the moment." She set her gloves on the table then got to her feet. "I need to take a turn around the room."

  "I'll walk with you."

  "No, stay there. I'll just toddle at my own speed." She ambled toward the window, her pace slow and awkward. "I feel like a waddling duck."

  "You are getting quite big now."

  "I think my time is very near. I may not even make it to the wedding." She smiled and walked back to me. Instead of sitting, she stood behind the sofa. Her cool hands settled on my shoulders and gently massaged. "In case I don't, tell me your plans. What does your dress look like?"