Her Majesty's Necromancer (19 page)

"It will be nice to be appreciated for what I can do," I said cheerfully as I came up behind him. "And adequately compensated for it too."

"You're not appreciated where you are now, are you?" He scooped out some coal and shoveled it into the grate. "No one ever notices maids. I sympathize, Miss Holloway. No one ever notices the medics on the battlefield, either. It's all about the soldiers and officers. We're expendable but they're not."

I tightened my grip on the rope in both hands and quickly looped it around his neck. I pulled back hard, dragging him against my legs.

Jasper grappled at the rope but I held it so tight that his fingers couldn't get underneath it. He thrashed and tried to call out, but I'd shut off his wind pipe. His face turned red, then purple. His eyes bulged, as he peered up at me, his lips moving in a silent plea.

It was horrible.

I released the rope, but before he could recover, I brought my elbow down on his temple. The blow knocked him out.

I picked up the fire iron and opened the office door. Jimmy's snore was the only sound coming from the reception room. He sat sprawled in a chair, his feet on the desk, his head tipped back and his mouth open. I crept past him to the door that led to the street, but it was locked.

Blast! I searched for a key nearby, but found none. It must be in a drawer or on either Jasper or Jimmy's person.

I couldn't believe I'd got this far only to stumble at the last hurdle. I quietly opened the top drawer of the reception desk, but it mustn't have been quiet enough. Jimmy snorted and woke up. I froze.

"Oi! What're you doing?" He lunged at me, but I jabbed the fire poker into his stomach, not hard, but enough to keep him at bay and make him think I would run it through him if pressed.

"Where's the key to the front door?"

Jasper groaned from the next room. Jimmy glanced toward him, and swallowed heavily "Captain! Captain! You there?"

"He's dead," I told him. "That's the sound of his spirit waking up inside his body."

He licked dry lips. "You're pullin' me leg."

"Am I? Just wait a moment and we'll see, shall we? It takes spirits time to become aware again, but once they are, they're under my control. I'll get him to show you how strong he is now that he's dead." I smiled, injecting it with as much wickedness as I could muster.
Please believe me, you stupid blighter.

"Don't," he said, licking his lips again. "Don't let him out here. I don't want no trouble."

"Give me the key so I can leave."

Jasper groaned again and called out something unintelligible.

Jimmy crossed himself with a trembling hand. "Take him with you!"

"I have to get out to do that."

"Second drawer." He nodded at the desk.

"You get it, then unlock the door."

I stepped aside and he jerked the second drawer open. The key sat on top of some paperwork. He fished it out and dashed to the door. He fumbled once but managed to insert the key in the lock. I glanced back at the office. I could hear Jasper recovering. If he managed to come out and convince Jimmy that he was alive, I wouldn't stand a chance.

"Hurry!" I whispered.

Jimmy finally unlocked the door and wrenched it open. We jostled to be the first out, and burst through together. I ran one way and he another.

I kept the fire iron with me and fled down lanes and streets that were both familiar and not until I felt I was far enough from the office that I wouldn't be traced.

I slowed to catch my breath and take note of my location. The cold air made my cheek ache even more. Pain shot up from my left foot too and blood dripped onto the pavement. I'd cut it on something sharp.

I held the fire iron tighter and limped out of the lane. I knew this spot. It was near one of my favorite places to relieve gentlemen of their wallets. I was far from Lichfield, but at least I knew the way. I walked on, but the pain in my foot grew worse. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, at least, but I couldn't put all my weight on it. I'd grown soft since moving into Lichfield. I used to be able to walk barefoot for miles in the cold and not feel this wretched.

Few people were awake at such an early hour. Some delivery boys eyed me up and down, and one made a lewd comment about my state, but no one offered me help. I didn't care. I would be home soon.

Home, at Lichfield, with a warm bath and bed waiting for me, and friends to bandage my foot and see to my cheek. Friends who cared for me, not because I was a necromancer, but because they liked me.

Lincoln was among them. At least, I hoped he still considered me a friend. Somehow, that didn't matter as much as being welcomed back. We could rebuild our friendship in time
if
I were to remain at Lichfield.

It took me twice as long to reach Highgate as it would have without a limp. The traffic going in the opposite direction thickened as bank clerks and office workers headed into the city. Several gentlemen asked if I needed assistance, but I politely refused and limped on. It felt like I'd been walking all day, but it had probably only been two hours since setting out from Savile Row.

I finally reached the Lichfield gate and paused at the spot where Jasper had kidnapped me. I drew in a shuddery breath and congratulated myself on getting free and reaching safety.

The pounding of horses' hooves sent my heart racing again. The large beast bore down on me, but I recognized it and didn't try to get out of the way. I suddenly couldn't, anyway. My feet were too sore and my legs felt like lead. Everything ached, from my head to my toes.

The horse pulled to a stop and the rider slid down to land noiselessly on the road. Lincoln stared at me with eyes that were so familiar and yet not at the same time. They swirled with emotion—or was it my vision that swirled?

I could no longer hold myself together. It felt as if every piece of me was unraveling, peeling away, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I hated that he saw me looking so pathetic, but I couldn't stop my tears. They poured out of me. I dropped the fire iron and covered my face with my hands.

Strong arms cocooned me and pressed me gently against his chest, where I could hear in his erratic heartbeat how worried he'd been.

Lincoln massaged my neck with one hand, and splayed the fingers of the other across my back. I stayed locked in his arms until my tears dried and his breathing returned to its normal rhythm. I was acutely aware that he hadn't spoken, but his embrace said more than words ever could. He wasn't throwing me out. He
did
care.

His horse moved and the hand at my neck let go to catch the reins. The
clip clop
of hooves on the road grew louder and I looked up.

"Charlie?" Seth jumped down before his horse had come to a complete stop. He beamed at me and opened his arms.

Lincoln let me go and stood aside while Seth scooped me up, lifting me off my feet.

"Bloody hell!" he murmured in my ear. "We were so worried about you."

"Have you both been out looking for me?"

"All night. Gus too. Cook wanted to join us, but someone had to stay here in case you returned." He set me down again and I winced.

Lincoln crouched at my side. He removed his riding gloves and skimmed his hand over the frayed patch of my stockings where the rope had bitten into my ankles. He gently lifted my foot the way one would a horse's hoof. I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady myself, and felt him slump as he peeled away the shredded, bloody mess of my stocking at the sole.

Seth sucked in a breath between his teeth. "Jesus, Charlie. How far have you walked like that?"

"From Savile Row. Captain Jasper has rooms at number nineteen."

"You went to see him? On your own?"

I shook my head. "I went for a walk last night and he abducted me. He had Jimmy and Pete with him. It happened right here on this spot. He wanted to use my necromancy to complete his experiments. You were right," I told Lincoln. "He was expelled from the army for misconduct. He was testing a serum on near-dead men. It was supposed to bring them back to life, but it doesn't work yet."

"Bloody hell." Seth shook his head and glanced at Lincoln as he rose. "Will we ride to Savile Row now, sir? Want me to get the pistols first? Knives would be better. Something that can be attributed to a burglar."

He meant to kill Jasper? Bile rose to my throat. I didn't know why I found the thought abhorrent. Jasper had abducted me, and he didn't deserve mercy. Yet he wasn't a bad man. Strange, yes, and deluded, but not a monster.

I wobbled on my good foot and Lincoln caught me around the waist. Before I knew what was happening, he'd picked me up and planted me in the saddle.

"Ride to the police station," he ordered Seth. "Give them a brief account of the abduction, no more. Have Jasper and his men arrested."

Seth blinked twice, then nodded. "Yes, sir." He mounted and rode off.

"It means the police will come to question you," Lincoln said to me.

"I know."

"You won't have to answer any questions until you feel ready." He walked the horse along the drive, his gaze straight ahead.

"Lincoln," I said softly.

"Yes?"

"Seth seemed to think that I'd left of my own accord. Is that what you believed too?"

"It seemed the most likely scenario, considering the tension between us lately and that you asked me for a reference just before your disappearance. A reference I refused to give."

"I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye."

"Not…not even after the way I treated you?"

I touched his shoulder and he finally glanced my way. He scanned my face and I smiled gently to reassure him. "You treated me far better than I deserved. I would have thrown me out, if I were you."

"I doubt that." He turned away and we walked on in silence. We were just rounding the side of the house when he spoke again. "They blamed me for your departure." His hand stroked the horse near my leg. "I blamed myself," he added quietly.

I reached out to touch his hair, but drew my hand back when Cook burst upon us from the courtyard.

"Charlie! You came home!" He grinned but it faltered when he saw the state of my feet and cheek. "You had an adventure on your own, eh?"

"Something like that."

"You be making a habit of it. A bad habit," he added with a scowl. "Don't do it again."

I saluted him. "I'll be sure to tell my next kidnappers that you don't approve."

"Kidnappers!"

Lincoln helped me down then once I was steady, let me go. "Take her inside," he said. "Cook her whatever she wants." To me he added, "I'll run you a bath when I come in. Your wounds need cleaning and dressing."

"You don't have to," I said. "I can do it myself."

He walked the horse to the stables without responding and I allowed Cook to help me into the house. I gave him the brief version of what happened as he stood by the stove stirring something that smelled delicious. He didn't complain once about his bandaged thumb.

Gus arrived along with Lincoln, and the brawny fellow drew me into a hug that left me gasping for air. I repeated my story for them both, going into more depth about Jasper's motives for the abduction and how he'd found me. While Cook and Gus inserted their own comments, gasps and growls, Lincoln remained silent. He didn't move a muscle as he stood by the door, his arms crossed and his half-closed eyelids veiling his gaze.

When I'd finished, he suddenly turned.

"Where are you going?" I called out.

"Bathroom."

Cook placed bacon, eggs and soup in front of me all at once. The delicious smells drew my focus away from the door, but not from Lincoln. He'd sounded…odd, like that single word had been torn from his throat.

"Eat," Cook ordered.

"All of it?"

"Every last mouthful."

By the time I finished, Lincoln had returned. "The bath is ready. Can you walk?"

"I'll try." I got to my feet, but the cut one stung awfully, and the other had developed blisters from taking most of my weight on the walk home. "It's not too bad," I lied.

"You can't get all the way up there on your own," Gus protested. He glanced at Lincoln, but Lincoln remained unmoved by the door. With a shake of his head, Gus picked me up. "I'll do it myself," he muttered.

But Lincoln stepped in front of him and held out his arms. Gus handed me over. I felt like a sack of potatoes until Lincoln cradled me close to his body. I could feel his strong heartbeat through his shirt and waistcoat and smell the scents of horse and leather on his skin. I drew in a deep breath and placed my arms around his neck.

He carried me up the stairs, his face in profile as he stared straight ahead. He deposited me in the bathroom then left without a word. I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the bath. The warm water stung my feet at first, but I soon got used to it. I lay there without moving for a long time, thinking about what might have happened if I hadn't been able to get away. Would Lincoln have found me? How long would he have searched? If he thought I'd left of my own volition he might have given up after only a cursory attempt.

The water rippled with my shudder. It didn't bear thinking about. I was home safely, and Jasper would be in jail soon, if he wasn't already.

I cleaned my feet, ensuring the cuts were free of grit, then climbed out of the tub. I dried off but realized I had no clean clothes with me. I wrapped the towel around my body and opened the door.

Lincoln looked up from where he was leaning against the wall opposite and a little down from the bathroom. His gaze heated as it settled on my bare shoulders then moved down to my legs.

"I need clean clothes," I told him as a blush crept up my throat.

His gaze flicked to mine then he quickly turned, presenting me with his back. But not before I saw something I'd never seen before on his face. He looked confused, like he didn't know what to do or say.

I hobbled to my room and quickly dressed before making my way outside again. I didn't get far. Lincoln stood in the corridor, the medical bag in hand. Seth, Gus and Cook stood behind him. When he didn't move, Seth and Gus edged around him. They stood on either side of me, looped their arms behind my back, and carried me to the armchair.

"Sit down," Seth ordered.

I sat, and Lincoln crouched on the floor in front of me. He gently took my foot in his hands and inspected it.

"Did the police arrest Jasper?" I asked Seth.

He nodded and sat on another chair. "He was still in his rooms, dazed from a blow to the head. He sported a rope burn around his throat too, similar to your wrists and ankles. Know anything about that, Charlie?" he asked with a lopsided grin.

"I may. Was he really that dazed?"

"He was. Had a bruise here too." He tapped his temple. "That's quite a punch you must have delivered."

"It was my elbow."

"Ah. Good girl. Elbows are stronger than fists. Clever thinking."

"I wasn't really thinking at all. Not then, and not earlier when I managed to hit Pete. It was instinct."

"Thanks to all that training," Gus said with a decisive nod.

"It be paying off," Cook added.

"Yes." I smiled down at Lincoln, but he wasn't looking at me. "I hope we can resume as soon as possible."

"We can modify training until you're healed," Seth said. "Perhaps some weapons training while you have to stay off your feet."

"Knife throwing," Cook said. "I can show you how from sitting."

"Guns too." Gus rubbed his hands together and blew on the fingers. "I know someone who'll sell me a little muff pistol at a good price."

Seth smacked Gus's shoulder. "The price doesn't matter." He nodded at Lincoln who was now bandaging my foot.

"We can set up targets out back." Cook ran his hand over his shiny head. "One point if she hit a biscuit tin and two for a tea tin."

"If you turn the biscuit tins on their side, they present a narrower target." Seth rubbed his jaw. He hadn't yet shaved, and the pale bristles leant his face a ruggedness it was otherwise missing. "I propose five points for a small tea tin, three points for a biscuit tin on its side and 1 point for when its presented front on."

"You got something smaller than tea?" Gus asked Cook. "We could make that ten points."

Cook nodded thoughtfully. "Tobacco tins be small."

"None of you smoke," I said, laughing.

That didn't seem to concern them. They continued to discuss the best tins for target practice, and how many points each should be worth. They had quite a system arranged by the time Lincoln finished bandaging my foot.

"There are a set of crutches in the attic," he said, rising. "Gus, go fetch them."

Gus obeyed without complaint, and Cook headed out too in search of tins. Seth yawned and sprawled in the chair.

"You've been up all night," I said. "Go get some rest."

"So have you," he said. "
You
should rest."

"I slept most of the night away. I might have been unconscious, but either way I don't feel tired."

"Jesus, Charlie. You were unconscious? We should get a real doctor in to look at her," he said to Lincoln.

"I feel fine," I told them both.

Lincoln nodded at Seth, and Seth rose. "I'll fetch one now."

I sighed as he left. "I feel perfectly all right." I wiggled my foot as best as I could. "Thank you. It doesn't hurt nearly so much."

"Then why did you wince and tense every time I touched it?" Lincoln asked.

"I didn't think you noticed."

"I noticed."

"I suppose you notice everything." I bit my lip, aware of how that sounded. "I…I don't mean your instincts, your gift, I meant—"

He placed a hand to the side of my face. I was so shocked that I stopped talking. "I know what you meant." His thumb stroked my cheek before he lowered his hand and stood.

"Lincoln—Mr. Fitzroy—I need to get something off my chest."

He glanced at the door. Was he looking for an escape route or to see if anyone was nearby? He sat. "Go on."

I clutched the arms of the chair to anchor myself and sucked in a deep breath. "You had every right to be angry with me—"

"That matter is over. We won't speak of it anymore."

"We have to, or things will never be right between us."

"You're wrong. What's between us…it's not that. I don't want you to trouble yourself over it anymore, Charlie. It's not your fault."

I clicked my tongue and stretched my fingers then forced them to be still in my lap. "Let me explain. You don't know all of it." I waited and he nodded at me to go on. "A few days ago, after visiting the orphanages on the other side of the river, I stopped at the General Registry Office. I thought there might be a record of my birth, with Frankenstein listed as the father. I doubted it, but decided that since I was near, I might as well try my luck. While I was there, I realized I could also ask them to check for any records of your birth." I looked down at my fingers, twisted into knots in my lap. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "It was a decision made in a moment, and I regretted it immediately. But I couldn't call the fellow back, so I resolved not to ask him for the information when he returned. Unfortunately, he gave it to me before I could stop him."

"And what did you find out?"

"Nothing. There were no records under your name."

"And about yourself?"

I looked up at him and shrugged. "Also nothing."

"So it was a wasted effort and you tripped the trigger the ministry has placed on my name there."

I gawped at him. "What trigger?"

"The ministry has triggers set up on certain official files, not only within the General Registry Office but in other government offices too. When someone asks to look at them, a particular member of the committee, or myself, is notified. The General Registry Office trigger is set to alert Lady Harcourt. You're fortunate it wasn't Lord Gillingham."

"I don't feel particularly fortunate."

"I imagine not."

As always it was difficult to tell with Lincoln, but he didn't sound angry with me. Perhaps he was too happy to have me back and would never be angry with me again. A girl could hope, couldn't she?

"At least I now know how she convinced you to go through with it," he said.