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Authors: C. J. Archer

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BOOK: The Last Necromancer
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I re-read the page three times then shut the book and folded it against my chest. It seemed I'd only scratched the surface of my capabilities so far. What unnerved me was that Fitzroy already knew this information, and so, perhaps, did the others. It was no wonder he wanted to keep me away from madmen and evil ones.

I set aside the book and read a novel to lighten my mood until Gus and Seth coaxed me outside for a walk. I'd been surprised to see them, having assumed Fitzroy took them with him in his search for Frankenstein.

"If Fitzroy finds him, do you think he'll confront him alone?" I asked as we ambled through the orchard.

Seth, who'd been striding ahead, slowed to walk alongside me again. "He might."

"That's rather foolish. He ought to have you two as support."

"He don't need us," Gus said, picking off an unripe apple and throwing it at a trunk. It missed.

"Fitzroy works better alone," Seth clarified. "Especially when he's following someone."

"We ain't that bad!"

"No, but he's better. If he's following you," he said to me, "you'll never know it. A hunting cat makes more noise than Death."

I could attest to that all too well. "What do you know about him? His background, his family, where is he from?"

"Wouldn't know." Gus snapped another apple from the tree and threw it as hard as possible. It split when it hit a nearby trunk and he gave a whoop of delight.

"We know very little about him," Seth said. "Neither of us has been employed by the ministry for long."

"How did you end up working for him?"

Seth picked an apple and threw it at the same tree, but missed. Gus snorted. We'd stopped altogether, both men distracted by their sport. I thought they wouldn't answer my question, but after three misses, Seth did.

"I found myself at a loose end one evening. Death was there and offered me a job."

"Bloody liar," Gus said with a shake of his head. "Seth were gambling and drinking like there ain't no tomorrow. He had nothing left to lose, except his own person, so he staked it."

"What do you mean, 'staked it'?"

"Himself. His body."

"That's enough," Seth growled. "She's a lady. She doesn't want to hear the particulars."

"I'm no lady, and I certainly do want to hear the particulars. They're the best part."

Seth's face turned a bright crimson as he glared at Gus. Gus ignored him. "Some old, fat lord took the wager. Said his wife would like to lie with a young, handsome fellow again." He leaned closer to me, his grin splitting his face. "Only I think the old lord wanted Seth for himself. The look on his wrinkly face when Seth removed his shirt to prove—"

"I did not remove my shirt!" Seth rolled his eyes. "It's not true, Charlie. That part isn't, at least. Anyway, how would you know, Gus? You weren't there."

"You told me, you blathering idiot. That first night you arrived at Lichfield, feeling all sorry for yourself. You got rollicking drunk and tossed up your guts and your story."

"That doesn't explain how you wound up here, working for Fitzroy," I said. "So you lost to the lord at cards."

"Got soundly beaten," Seth said. "Fitzroy was there and offered to pay my debt in exchange for coming to work for him."

"The gentleman accepted?"

"Not at first, but Death offered him a large sum." Seth puffed out his chest. "He realized my worth."

"Realized how desperate you were," Gus said, pulling off another apple. "You were available at just the right time too, and had some skills he could use." He slapped his colleague on his brawny shoulder. "He ain't just a pretty face, Charlie. He can shoot straight and bare-knuckle box with the best of 'em. I saw him defeat Toothless Tom in the ring."

"Why were you fighting in a bare knuckle boxing match?" I asked Seth. "It's not the sort of thing a toff does." Attending the illegal matches was, but I'd never heard of one actually getting his hands dirty.

"I like to fight," Seth said with a shrug.

"He were desperate, and the pay were good. Everyone in the city came to see the toff in the ring. Including me, and maybe Death. That's probably where Fitzroy first saw him." Gus threw his apple, not at a trunk but into the middle distance.

Seth picked off another and threw it in the same direction. It passed Gus's. He gave his friend a smirk. Gus took that as a challenge and got another apple. He threw it hard, and it traveled so far I couldn't see where it landed.

"Ha! Beat that," he said.

Seth's next apple also disappeared from sight.

"Wait a moment." I hiked up my skirts and climbed the nearest apple tree. It felt like an age since I'd scrambled over a fence or wall. It was something I used to do several times a day. That and run, usually away from my pickpocket victim or the police.

"Charlie! What you doin' up there?" Gus cried, tilting his head back.

"Seeing who won. I think it was Seth."

"Get down before you hurt yourself," Seth called up.

"I'm not going to fall."

"If you get hurt, Death'll kill us," Gus said. "Come down now or we'll come up and get you."

I sighed and began to descend. "I was just having some fun. Turn away so you can't see up my skirt."

Both men dutifully turned their backs. I took the opportunity to pluck two apples and drop them on their heads.

"Oi!" Gus cried, rubbing his head.

I landed on both feet beside him and grinned. He frowned, but Seth laughed. "You're unlike any girl I know," he said.

"That's because I'm not used to behaving like a girl."

"That be true," Gus muttered. "You shouldn't be climbing trees. Lady Harcourt would have a fit."

"I don't care what Lady Harcourt thinks. Or anyone, for that matter. If I want to climb a tree, I'll climb a tree. Girls should be allowed to."

"Ain't proper," Gus grumbled, striding off. "Besides, you ain't a girl, you're a woman."

I stared at his retreating back, as rigid as a plank of wood. Why had my behavior upset
him
so much?

"Don't mind him," Seth said as we followed at a slower pace. "He's still not sure what to make of you. Sometimes he thinks of you as a lad, and other times he becomes aware of your femininity and he gets embarrassed."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't know how to act around females. They scare him."

"Why do we scare him?"

"I'm not sure. Why don't you ask him?"

Perhaps I would, but another time. Gus didn't look in the mood to talk to me.

We headed back inside the house, where I spent a dull afternoon waiting for Fitzroy to return. The day stretched into the evening, and Seth, Gus and I dined in the kitchen with Cook. Afterward we played cards and I learned some new games from the men. If we'd been playing for real money instead of dried broad beans, I would have lost a fortune. I couldn't concentrate. Every creak of the house made me glance at the door. Every chime of the long case clock in the entrance hall set my teeth on edge. When it finally chimed ten, I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Where is he?" I tossed my cards down on the table and got up.

The others watched me pace back and forth with bemused expressions. "There's no need to worry," Seth said. "He'll be fine. He always is."

"You don't know that. He could be lying injured or dead somewhere."

Gus swept the cards up in his big paw and began shuffling them. "Come sit down and stop worrying. For one thing, he don't deserve it. For another, he can take care of himself. You ain't seen what he's capable of, yet."

Cook and Seth both nodded in agreement. When I refused to sit and continued pacing, Seth got up and intercepted me. He clasped my arms and dipped his head to peer into my eyes. He was about to say something when a shadow blocked the doorway.

I gasped at the sight of Fitzroy looking as unruffled as always. "You're back!" I wrenched free of Seth's grip, but stopped myself rushing to Fitzroy like I wanted to. "Did you find him?"

"Yes." He came into the kitchen and immediately the space seemed smaller. His gaze flicked over me then settled on Seth.

Seth swallowed heavily and sat at the table again.

"I'll warm up dinner," Cook said, rising.

"And?" I asked, as Fitzroy poured himself a glass of water from a jug. "What happened after you found him?"

"I lost him."

That had everyone staring, even Cook.

Fitzroy set the glass down and regarded each of us in turn. The men returned to their tasks, but I met his gaze directly. "Go on," I said.

"I learned where he lived, but when he didn't show up there, I returned to Holloway's house."

"Father's? Why?"

"I suspected he would visit again in a desperate attempt to find you. Holloway is his only link to you. I was right. He did."

I bit my lip to stop myself voicing my fear that Frankenstein had injured the man who'd raised me. Fitzroy, however, must have understood my concern. "He realized Holloway couldn't help him and left without harming him. I followed but lost him."

The other three men exchanged glances but made no comment. I suspected that was wise. Fitzroy seemed frostier than usual. His failure probably frustrated him.

"I'm sure it wasn't easy to follow him in the dark." My attempt to mollify him earned me the full force of that icy glare. I cleared my throat and forged ahead anyway. "I'm sure you'll find him again soon."

He didn't respond. Instead, he took his dinner to his rooms. The others resumed their card game, but I yawned and said goodnight. Upstairs, I contemplated knocking on Fitzroy's door, but I had nothing to say to him and I would only embarrass myself by asking after his wellbeing.

I prepared for bed, then lay under the covers listening to the silence. An hour later, I could no longer stand it. I got up, threw a shawl around my shoulders, lit a candle, and padded along the hallway to Fitzroy's rooms. I was about to knock on the door when it opened. Fitzroy seemed as surprised to see me standing there as I was to see him dressed for going out.

"Where are you headed at this time of night?" I blurted.

His eyebrows arched and I pressed my lips together. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Out."

"But it must be almost midnight. What can you possibly— Oh." Where else did a gentleman go at such a time, but to visit his lover? Thank goodness the light from my candle flame wasn't strong enough to show my reddening face. "I was concerned for your welfare," I mumbled pathetically.

He paused. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just am. You were out for so long tonight, and now you're going out again." I lowered my candle. "Of course you must want to see her, and she you."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Lady Harcourt, I presume."

His eyes briefly flared.

"It's none of my affair who you see in the evenings, secretly or otherwise," I went on. "If it is her, however, I can think of no one more lovely. You're both interesting people and you make a handsome couple."
Ugh
, strike me down before I say something even more humiliating. I turned to go, but Fitzroy grabbed my hand, the one holding the candlestick at a slight tilt.

"You're dripping wax on the floor." He righted the candle, but didn't immediately let go. His hand remained over mine, his warmth seeping through my skin to my bones. "I am not going to see Lady Harcourt." He spoke softly, his voice a deep purr.

"Oh," I said on a breath. I angled my face to peer up at his, only to be caught in his black, fathomless gaze as thoroughly as an insect in a web. I couldn't pull myself free, no matter how much I wanted to. "Another, then."

"You're bold, Charlie." His thumb stroked my knuckles and his head dipped closer to mine. It was such a small move, yet I'd noticed it. It gave me hope and courage to ignore the voice within me shouting at me to stop.

Another voice was louder. It urged me to kiss him.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

 

I reached up to touch Fitzroy's cheek. I didn't know what I was doing. It was like someone else lifted my hand and angled my head. I'd never flirted with anyone, never kissed a man, yet here I was behaving as if it were something I did all the time.

What must he think of me?

What did I think of myself?

I lowered my hand at the same moment he let my other go. We both took a step back. I pulled my shawl up my shoulder where it had slipped down.

"Return to bed," he said, gruffly.

Too full of swirling emotions to think of something clever to say, I simply turned and walked back to my rooms. I was about to close the door when he stopped nearby. I hadn't realized he'd followed.

"Please accept my apologies," he said with a curt bow. "That was unforgivable."

I wanted to shout at him that it wasn't, that feelings ought to be acted upon. But I didn't know if he had feelings for me. Nor did I think acting on them was the right thing to do in our situation—not when I was being honest with myself. "You have nothing to apologize for," was all I could manage.

"I do. I—" His face turned stony. "Goodnight, Charlie."

He walked off and I closed the door, still none the wiser as to where he was headed. My jangling nerves didn't allow me to fall asleep until it was almost dawn.

***

When I awoke late morning, I quickly dressed and hurried down the stairs. I found Seth and Gus in the scullery, helping Cook with chores.

"You missed breakfast," Cook said without glancing up from the pot he scrubbed.

"Can't you fry a little bacon for her?" Seth asked.

"I'll do it," I said. "Is Mr. Fitzroy here?"

"He came back two hours ago," Gus said. He sat on his haunches on the floor, scrubbing brush in hand, and rubbed his back. "He's probably sleeping."

"If he sleeps." Seth grinned and winked at me. "I'm not sure he requires any."

"You mean he's been out all night?" I looked from one to the other and received only shrugs. "Does he do that often?"

"On occasion." Seth indicated I should walk ahead of him out of the scullery. "When the need arises."

I was about to ask what he meant, but decided it was best not to ask. He might mean the sort of needs only a woman could satisfy.

He followed me into the kitchen and showed me where Cook kept the pan and bacon. I wasn't overly familiar with cooking, but Seth taught me how to add more coal to the range, although it was still hot enough for my needs. The actual cooking part was easy. He made some tea while I worked and we chatted as I ate.

By the time I finished, I'd learned about his love of all things equestrian and the details of every horse he'd ever owned. I learned nothing about himself or his family, except that they must have been wealthy to afford all those horses. My father had not owned one.

"Good morning." Fitzroy's sudden appearance caught me by surprise. As usual, I'd not heard him approach. "Did you sleep well?"

"Abominably," I said. "I hear you didn't sleep at all."

He unwrapped the bacon I'd carefully rewrapped and placed two rashers in the pan I'd used. "I managed a little."

I was diverted from my own food by the sight of a gentleman cooking his own breakfast. I supposed in a household without servants he occasionally had to do things for himself. When he finished, he tipped the bacon onto a plate and accepted a cup of tea from Seth. He sat opposite me and ate.

"Did you find him, sir?" Seth asked.

"Yes, but I lost him again."

"Again!"

Fitzroy's sharp glare pinned Seth for a brief moment before releasing him. He continued to eat but the air in the kitchen had become chilly, despite the heat thrown out from the range.

"You were looking for Frankenstein last night." My words came out in a rush, followed by a bubble of laughter.

Fitzroy watched me from beneath lowered lashes while continuing to eat. Seth shrugged. "Where did you think he was?" he asked.

"That…never mind. So you found him again?"

"And lost him in the same spot," Fitzroy said. He sounded more bemused than angry. It was as if he couldn't fathom
how
he'd lost Frankenstein. Perhaps it had never happened before.

"The man must be a magician to get away from you twice," Seth said.

"The thought had crossed my mind."

I blinked at him. "Magic? Surely that's a joke?"

"I don't joke."

"Amen," Seth muttered as he picked up the empty pan.

"But…magic…" I shook my head. "That's something only children and fools believe in."

"As are necromancers," Fitzroy said.

"Point taken." I finished my bacon and pushed my plate aside. "You said you lost him in the same place. Where precisely was that?"

"You think you can help?" Seth asked, taking my plate. "Best leave this to us, Charlie."

I flattened my palms on the table. "Don't treat me like a child. My knowledge of London's streets likely exceeds yours. I doubt you found yourself in too many dark, crowded lanes during your pampered life."

"You'd be surprised," he said with a harsh laugh. "My life hasn't been all that pampered of late."

I rubbed my temple and winced. "I'm sorry, Seth, I didn't mean to let my temper get the better of me."

He chucked me under the chin and smiled. "Don't fret. I deserved it."

Fitzroy shoved his plate at Seth. Seth's face fell. He took the plate and wandered out of the kitchen toward the scullery.

"Totten Lane," Fitzroy said to me. "Do you know it?"

"In Clerkenwell? Yes, I do." I frowned and chewed on my lower lip. The lane bled into a small, miserable courtyard, where several families occupied the tenements. There were buildings on all sides, and there was no other exit except through a manhole that led to the underground sewers. It was located behind a brick wall that seemed to belong to one of the buildings from a distance, but up close, it became obvious that the wall was once part of an old well that had once stood there. "I know how he disappeared."

One of his brows lifted. "Go on."

"It's easier if I show you. Shall we go now?"

I stood and he stood too. "I don't think that's wise."

"Why not? You need to find Frankenstein, and I can help you." I crossed my arms in what I hoped was a show of defiance but felt more like pettiness.

"You were afraid before, and with good reason."

"I was. I still am. But I know that helping you will mean he's caught sooner. When he's caught, I can stop being afraid."

He blinked slowly and nodded. He walked off and I had to race to catch up to him.

"Wait, sir."

He stopped in the narrow, dark service corridor and waited until I was alongside him.

"I want to help. I owe you for taking me in."

"You don't. The circumstances under which you came here…were not ideal. It should negate any gratitude you feel. It's I who should be thanking you."

"True," I said lightly.

He huffed out a breath that might or might not have been a laugh. "Thank you, Charlie, for not shooting me in the head."

I shivered at the memory of having nearly killed him. A few inches to the left and the bullet would have pierced his heart. I folded my arms against the chill.

"Charlie," he said softly. "It was a joke."

"Not a very funny one."

He sighed. "I'm unused to making jokes. I apologize. I'll hold my tongue next time."

"No! Don't do that. I prefer your unfunny jokes to none at all." I liked that he was telling jokes when he ordinarily didn't. It felt like he was trying just for me.

"You'll change your mind soon enough."

I wasn't sure if that was meant as a joke too, so I laughed anyway, just in case. "Sir," I said, peering up at him, "what will happen to me after Frankenstein is caught and this is over? I don't wish to live with Lady Harcourt, and I can't go back to the streets."

"No, you can't."

"I'd like to stay here."

"That has yet to be decided."

"Who decides? You?"

"I make all the decisions regarding the ministry and Lichfield Towers."

"Don't tell Lord Gillingham that. He seems to think you're an underling."

"Don't be afraid of Gillingham. He's an old goat in an expensive suit, nothing more."

"I don't want you to incur his wrath if I stay here."

"I can cope with Gillingham's wrath, and anyone else's censure. If I decide that you are to stay, that is."

"Don't send me away," I whispered. It was suddenly so hard to hold myself together. Mere days ago, all I'd wanted was to get away from Lichfield. But now, the thought of leaving was unbearable.

We stood so close that I could feel the heat of him. I was aware of his every breath, every shift of muscle, and my aching response to him.

"Charlie," he said on a sigh, "staying here may not be in your best interests."

"How can it not be?"

His gaze wandered over the top of my head, toward the scullery where three deep, quiet voices hummed in conversation.

"You are entirely wrong, Lincoln."

His gaze flew to mine.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong." I thrust my hand on my hip, angrier now. Good. I preferred anger to the pathetic whine I heard in my voice moments ago. "I am capable of taking care of myself, and I am also not going to succumb to teasing flattery from the men. I'd hoped you thought me better than that."

His lips parted and I was gratified to see that my words had slapped him into giving a facial expression. If I wasn't mistaken, my outburst had shocked him. Perhaps he hadn't expected me to be aware of his thoughts on the matter.

"Now, have someone prepare the horses and carriage. We're going to Clerkenwell." I picked up my skirts and sailed off down the passageway, out of the service area. I didn't turn to see if he watched or not, but if the heat in the back of my head was an indication, he couldn't take his gaze off me. I only wished I knew if I'd shocked him in a good way or bad.

***

We walked down Totten Lane rather than take the coach. The road was narrow, being only a little wider than the width of the brougham, and turning would have been impossible. Besides, it made us too conspicuous. Although Fitzroy didn't say it, I suspected he wanted to arrive undetected. Unfortunately, the sight of four well-dressed strangers drew stares anyway.

"Should've worn disguises," Gus muttered. He and Seth seemed tense, their arms and fingers rigid as if they were ready to draw weapons at the slightest sign of trouble. Where they'd hidden their weapons, I couldn't say, but I strongly suspected they possessed a knife or two and perhaps a pistol on their person.

"Where precisely did you last see him?" I asked Fitzroy.

He walked beside me. Outwardly, he seemed calm, his body less stiff than the others, his movements as fluid as always. But when he came so close to me that our arms brushed, I sensed him clench. "In Black Water Yard." He nodded ahead where the lane ended at an archway that led through to a small courtyard.

"Our exit will be easily blocked once we enter," I said.

He looked at me and arched a brow.

I shrugged. "I remember Black Water Yard well. I was almost caught after stealing a shirt from a washing line."

He nodded gravely.

Up ahead, Seth peered back at me over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips. "It's easy to forget that you were a thief, looking as you do now."

Gus and Seth went through the arch first, then me, and finally Lincoln. Gus and Fitzroy had to duck beneath the ancient bricks of the arch, and Seth's head skimmed it. He was hatless, as were the other men, whereas I wore the small bonnet set back on my head, my hair pinned off my face. I felt much too exposed as people stared at us, and me in particular. Did they recognize me as that boy thief of mere weeks ago?

A group of children stopped their game of tag and watched us through wary eyes. Washing strung from lines between buildings flapped overhead. It would take an age for it to dry; the sun struggled to pierce the dense air and the courtyard was filled with shadows layered upon shadows.

"That wall there is false," I said, nodding at the bricks on the far side of the courtyard. "From here it blends in with the wall of the building behind it, but if you get closer, you see that it's separate. Between the two walls is a manhole that leads down into the sewers."

"Bloody dangerous, having a manhole near where children play," Seth said.

"I don't think the authorities cared much about the slum children when they put it there. They think there are too many mouths to feed in these parts anyway. Losing a child to the sewers from time to time won't keep them awake at night."

Fitzroy eyed his surroundings before striding to the wall and disappearing behind it. He reappeared moments later. "Take her back to Lichfield."

Gus nodded. "Yes, sir. Both of us?"

Fitzroy nodded.

"Shouldn't one of them stay with you to help?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Go."

Seth placed his hand at my lower back and both men flanked me as we walked out of the courtyard. I glanced over my shoulder, but Fitzroy had already disappeared behind the wall again. Whether he was lying in wait or going down into the sewers, I didn't know.

"We'll be out of here in a moment," Seth said, splaying his fingers wide on my back. "Miserable place."

"It's home to some," I told him, hotly. "Not everyone can live in a mansion."

His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "I'm sorry if I offended. It wasn't my intention."

I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry too."

"Blimey." Gus stopped a few paces ahead of us. "Don't look now but there's a toff coming our way. You don't think it's—"

"It is," I muttered. "Frankenstein."

I recognized the slim man with the short whiskers in the gray suit. His gaze settled on us and he slowed, just as we did. He'd never laid eyes on me before, and he couldn't know what Charlotte Holloway looked like, yet my instincts screamed at me to run.

Seth and Gus fell into step alongside me. Did they sense my anxiety? Seth took my hand and placed it on his arm, then folded his own hand over the top, trapping me. If we were in Hyde Park, we would have looked like any other couple taking a stroll on a warm summer's day. But no well-dressed couple strolled through the filthy lanes of Clerkenwell for entertainment.

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