by C. J. Archer
"I should put the head with the body," he said.
I glanced at it, some feet away, and shuddered. Those sightless eyes would haunt me for days.
Speaking of haunting… I could not see Swinburn's ghost. "Sir Ignatius Swinburn, are you here?" I tried to think of his middle name but couldn't remember it. If he had crossed, I'd need it to call him back.
But he hadn't crossed. His spirit rose up from the stairs leading down to the basement service area. Even in shades of gray, the slit at his throat was clearly visible, as was the blood, but I was rather glad the ghostly head was still in place on his neck. I half expected him to be carrying it under his arm like a hat. Another shudder wracked me.
"What is it?" Swinburn snapped.
"You haven't crossed," I said.
Gus, Seth and Alice gathered around me, following my gaze toward the spirit. Jenkin backed up the stairs and disappeared inside, slamming the door shut.
The spirit pointed at Seth. "When my murderer is caught, I will cross."
I didn't look at Seth. I didn't want him knowing Swinburn remained here because of him. "I have some questions for you, Sir Ignatius, and you will answer them. That is a command."
The ghost shimmered. "Go on. I have nothing to hide now."
"Did you murder those people in the Old Nichol?"
"Yes," he said.
"So you could blame Gawler and have him arrested?"
"Arrested, tried for murder, and hanged." He spoke coolly, dispassionately. It was unthinkable that he didn't care for his fellow shape changer. I doubted he cared for anyone. "To answer your next question, Miss Holloway, I did it to take over his pack."
"Harriet took over his pack, not you."
"She would recognize me as the head of our kind and defer to me on important matters. Much like a lord and his king, or a minister to the prime minister."
So it did come down to power in the end. The descendent of sailors had set his sights high, and he'd almost reached the pinnacle.
"I didn't tell that reporter about Gawler, you know," he said. "Harriet had that wrong."
"I know." I didn't tell him her own husband had been Salter's source. "But you did tell him about Lincoln and the ministry."
"No." The spirit swept up to me and whooshed around my head. I managed to stay still, calm, despite wanting to duck out of the way. "I have never spoken to The Star's reporter or any newspaperman. The information about Fitzroy did not come from me."
I blinked. Blinked again. "Tell me the truth, Sir Ignatius," I commanded. "Did you tell anyone about the Ministry of Curiosities and Lincoln Fitzroy? Anyone at all?"
"No! My name is in your files, for God's sake! Fitzroy made a point of telling me so. I didn't like him or your damned ministry, but I'm not a fool, Miss Holloway. I know when to keep my mouth shut."
My chest tightened. My throat felt dry. If he hadn't told Mr. Yallop or Mr. Salter, who had?
"What is it, Charlie?" Seth asked, a hand on my lower back. "You look faint."
"It's already quite warm," Alice said.
I shook my head. "It's not that. Sir Ignatius," I said to the ghost. "The police informed us that Lady Harcourt was pushed into the path of the omnibus. She did not kill herself. Did you do it?"
"No! Are you mad?" he blurted out. "What if I'd been seen? I wouldn't risk it simply to get rid of her. Anyway, I quite liked her. I didn't want to marry her but I would have settled a sum on her when I broke off the engagement. I'm sure she would have seen the sense in that."
I doubted it but didn't say so. I was much too shocked by his revelations. If he hadn't killed her, who had? Most likely it was the same person who'd told the newspapers about the ministry and mobilized Yallop.
"You may go," I murmured. "I have no more questions for you."
The ghost crouched before his body on the pavement. The blood had begun to dry and an insect buzzed around the head. "I think I'll stay here a little longer. I want justice."
"You there!" someone shouted from up the street. "Halt! All of you." Two constables hurried toward us, truncheons at the ready.
Seth greeted them. The use of his full title blew away their superior air and had them treating him with deference.
"We were told of a commotion here, sir," said one of the men, glancing at the body. "Did you see what happened?"
"In a way," Seth said. "We were strolling along and saw a mass of people gathered. It seemed to be some sort of protest against that man there." He pointed at Swinburn's body. "Next thing we knew, he'd fallen and the crowd dispersed."
Swinburn's ghost swirled round and round. "They won't believe that ridiculous story. Besides, there are witnesses up and down this street."
None of whom were close enough to identify Seth as the one wielding the blade. There'd been an entire army in the vicinity, obscuring their view.
One of the constables inspected the body. Finding the head missing, he scanned the vicinity and pulled a face when he spotted it. "What kind of weapon did that?"
"Good question," Seth said. "You should search for a sword, that would be my guess."
"Damned idiots!" Swinburn shouted in the constable's face.
We gave the constables our names then left them to clean up the mess. Swinburn's spirit followed me for a few feet then found he could not go any further. He was tied to this spot.
We caught a hackney back to Lichfield. By the time we reached the gate, we'd decided we probably should have gone straight to Scotland Yard. For one thing, we ought to notify Detective Inspector Fullbright of Swinburn's death. He would soon find out anyway, but somehow we had to make it sound as if we were innocent. I couldn't quite think clearly enough to make up a better story than the one Seth had given the constables. Perhaps later.
I also wanted to ask Fullbright where to find Lincoln. Hopefully he was still in a Scotland Yard holding cell and not already transferred to a prison.
The sight of the damaged house squeezed my heart. The catapult's boulder had torn off a corner of the top floor, leaving broken, jagged beams jutting into the sky. Bricks and other rubble lay scattered at the building's base, including the twisted remains of the attic desk and chair.
We picked our way through the mess and found ourselves enveloped in warm hugs from Cook and Lady Vickers. They directed us to the kitchen where Cook set out biscuits, sandwiches, cheese and whatever else he could find.
"These were supposed to be for my wedding," I said, plopping down on a chair.
"Aye," he said gently. "No need for them to go to waste."
I glanced at the clock. I ought to be getting married in less than thirty minutes. Tears welled but I didn't want the others to see them so I set about pouring the tea. Everyone ate except Alice. She simply stared into the teacup, her brow furrowed.
"What do we do now?" she asked. "We can't go on like this, waiting for the army to return at any moment. We just can't."
Seth touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. "We take it one day at a time." She shook her head and opened her mouth, but he put up a finger to stop her. "There'll be no more discussion of you going to Wonderland. Is that clear?"
She took a very long sip of her tea.
"Speaking of people not leaving," Lady Vickers said, her tone stern. "I discovered the letter you wrote, Charlie."
I groaned.
"What letter?" Gus asked.
"A farewell note," Cook said. "She be planning to break Fitzroy out of prison using her necromancy and run away with him."
A total and profound silence filled the kitchen. I felt hard gazes on me but didn't dare meet them.
"And what then?" Seth snapped.
"And then we would keep running," I said. "For as long as necessary."
Gus shook his biscuit at me. "And what about us, eh? What were we s'posed to do? Just wait here?"
"You would go about your daily lives and deny any wrongdoing. The police would blame us since we'd run off. It was a neat solution to our predicament."
Seth sudde
nly stood and kicked over his chair. He stalked to the stove and stared down into the pot of simmering water.
I stood beside him and tucked my hands into the crook of his arm. I leaned against him, my head on his shoulder. "What else could I do, Seth? I love him. I'll do anything to be with him, go anywhere."
His muscles relaxed and his chest rose and fell with his deep sigh. He turned and drew me into a hug. "We're your family too," he murmured into my hair.
"Yes. You are. And I'm sorry. I'll try to think of another way."
"Bloody hell," Gus murmured in wonder.
"Should I be worried?" came a familiar voice. A voice that belonged to a man who should not be there.
I pulled away from Seth and stared dumbly at Lincoln, standing in the doorway. His hair hung loose to his shoulders, and his jaw was shadowed with stubble. But he was in every way the most wonderful sight in the world.
"I'm no expert on women's preparations," he said idly, "but shouldn't you be wearing your wedding gown by now?"
He opened his arms and I ran into them, trying very hard not to sob.
We held one another so tightly I could feel his heart hammering, feel his heat and hard muscles through our clothes. Then his lips were on my forehead, my cheeks, my eyelids, my mouth. His hands dug into my unbound hair, and he cradled my head to keep our mouths locked together. He needn't have worried about me pulling away. I wasn't going to. I was precisely where I always wanted to be.
After a long moment that seemed to go on forever, and yet not long enough, another set of arms came around us both from behind me. It was Seth.
Lincoln smiled against my mouth and we parted. He stroked my hair from my forehead. "So you missed me," he murmured, a smile toying with his lips.
"God, yes," Seth said. "You have no idea how much."
I laughed and kissed Lincoln again. We only separated when someone cleared his throat. Lincoln let me go and embraced Gus's big frame. They slapped one another on the back in a manly fashion before Cook demanded it was his turn. Lincoln finally called enough after he'd embraced everyone.
"We don't have time for this," he announced with a glance at the clock.
My heart clenched. "Did you escape? Are the police after you?"
"No." His mouth curved in that most deliciously wicked way of his. "But we're getting married in fifteen minutes, and it takes ten to drive to the church."
I stared at him, my mouth ajar. Then I tried to tug him toward the back door that led to the courtyard and outbuildings. "Then stop kissing me and move!"
"There's a carriage waiting out front. If some ride on the outside, we should all fit, despite an extra passenger."
"Who?" I asked.
"We can't just run out now!" Lady Vickers cried, picking up her skirts and rushing off. "We are not prepared!"
"Correct, madam," Lincoln said. "Gus, the rings."
Gus pushed past her. Seth followed. "I'll fetch you a clean shirt," he said over his shoulder. "You're not getting married in the one you wore in prison."
"At least I don't have blood on mine," Lincoln called after him. "Does someone care to explain why Seth has blood on him? And why part of the house is damaged?"
"I will later," I said.
Lady Vickers strode after her son only to return to us, her skirts lifted high above her ankles. "But the dress!" she cried. "And your hair, Charlie! You can't get married looking like a wild thing. And you, Lincoln, are no better."
"There's no time to change," he said, pulling me toward the door. The vicar won't wait, and nor will I."
Fortunately the flowers had arrived so I was able to hold a nosegay of blush pink roses. I removed the blue ribbon holding the bunch together and handed it to Lincoln. He was still tying back his hair when Cook opened the front door and I caught a glimpse of the coach waiting for us. Two grooms and a driver dressed in crimson livery waited with it. One of the grooms opened the door and the Prince of Wales peered back at us from inside.
"Good morning, all," he said cheerfully. "Are you ready to get married, Miss Holloway?"
"I…I am, yes." I allowed the footman to assist me into the cabin and settled beside the prince. "Did you free Lincoln?"
Instead of answering, he gave orders to his men. "You two, wait here until I return. Fitzroy, you and your men can ride at the back or sit alongside the driver. The ladies can ride in here with me." The prince settled back with a sigh of satisfaction as we drove off. "Your words affected me, Miss Holloway, more than I let on at the time. I spoke with the queen and we decided to speak to Mr. Yallop on your behalf. That was late yesterday afternoon. It took until this morning for the slow wheels of politics to move. So here we are, off to the church in time for your wedding."
"But the queen was so angry with me," I said. "I got the distinct impression she never wanted to see me again."
"She was upset, but once she calmed down, she saw your side of things. She's like that. It takes a number of years before one can learn her moods and how to navigate them." His mouth turned down and his heavy eyelids lowered. "Inspector Fullbright informed me this morning, when I collected Fitzroy, that he was about to head out to Sir Ignatius's residence. Reports of a disturbance had come through. Do you know anything about that?"
I exchanged a glance with Alice. "He's dead," I said. "His ghost admitted that he'd murdered those men in the Old Nichol. I'm sorry, sir, I know you don't want to hear it, but he duped you."
He grunted. "A man doesn't like admitting that he put his trust in the wrong fellow. According to Fullbright, Swinburn's name was in your records."
"As a werewolf, yes."
Another grunt. "The odd thing is, Miss Holloway, that he was the only living person mentioned in your ministry's files. All the others were deceased persons."
"That can't be—"
Alice kicked me and I swallowed the rest of my response. I tried to think how the names of every living supernatural except for Swinburn could have been removed from the files and came up blank. I'd remembered burying them complete.
Alice yawned then apologized to the prince. "I haven't been sleeping too well of late."
"Insomnia?" he asked.
"Mr. Fitzroy suffers from it too." She looked to me.
Ah yes, the night she couldn't sleep and had seen Lincoln crossing the lawn back to the house. He must have been coming from the walled garden after digging up some of the files and reburying them elsewhere. It was typical of him to be one step ahead of everyone else.
Thankfully supernaturals would now be safe from police scrutiny. I didn't want to face Mr. Langley's ire, for one, and Lincoln's disappointment in himself if their names had been revealed.
"Sir," I said, "your influence may be required again."
"This sounds ominous," he said.
"Some very strange things happened at Sir Ignatius's house this morning. It will take some convincing for Inspector Fullbright to make sense of it."
"Perhaps it can all be explained by the hallucinogenic fumes reported in that area."
I smiled and he smiled back.
The coach pulled up in front of the church and Seth wouldn't let me out until Gus and Lincoln were inside. He opened the door and assisted his mother and Alice from the coach, then politely inquired if his highness was staying.
The prince hesitated.
"Please do," I said. "You're most welcome."
"Perhaps at the back," he said, and got out.
When they were all inside, I took Seth's arm. He beamed at me. "You look happy and beautiful, Charlie, despite wearing your worst dress, as my mother would say."
"It's the very worst, " I said cheerfully. "But I don't care."
* * *
The ceremony went by in a flash. One moment I was Miss Holloway and the next I was Mrs. Fitzroy. Lady Vickers was the first to congratulate me and call me by my new name. I almost burst out laughing. It would take some getting used to.
A frenzy of congratulations followed next, firstly from our closest friends from
Lichfield. Leisl, Eva and David Cornell were also there, since they had not been aware of Lincoln's imprisonment. Lord and Lady Marchbank were not in attendance, and neither were Lord and Lady Gillingham. They didn't know that Lincoln was free. Lincoln asked the vicar if he could dash off a note to them immediately.
I looked around for the prince, but he had already left. Perhaps that was for the best. His past with Leisl had been shrouded in mystery, and he didn't like to be reminded of his night of passion with the pretty gypsy girl. At least he seemed to have come to terms with fathering Lincoln. Indeed, more than come to terms with it, if his efforts in getting him released were an indication. I'd say he was heartily proud of his son.
As was I. I clung to the arm of my new husband, not prepared to let him out of my sight all day. So when he started to discuss Swinburn as we emerged from the church, I rounded on him.
"You are not continuing the investigation today," I said, hand on hip.
"Seth told me what Swinburn's ghost told you," Lincoln said levelly. "We have to find out who is responsible for informing the newspapers and Yallop about the ministry. There's also the matter of Julia's death."
"I agree, but not today. Today you are mine. And there's no urgency now that the prince has spoken to Mr. Yallop and stopped the investigation."
"There is always Salter and The Star. We have to nip this in the bud before it rears its head again." When I hesitated, he added, "Come with me. I want your company anyway. Very much."
I narrowed my gaze. He was too charming. Lincoln was never charming. He also had a good point. The longer we let the real villain roam the streets, the longer he had a chance of causing us more problems.
"Besides, Gus has an errand to run for me," he said. "So the feast can't begin until he gets there."
I shot a glare at Gus. "What errand?"
"It's a good one!" Gus cried. "Promise, Charlie."
"Lincoln, I don't like surprises."
He took my hands in his and tugged me closer until our bodies pressed together. I tilted my head back to peer up at him. He smiled down at me and I fell into the deep, mesmerizing pools of his eyes. "You'll have to wait and see, Wife." He kissed me gently but with a longing that tugged at my insides, low down in my belly.