by C. J. Archer
Yorkshire! That was so far away!
"Exile," Lady Harcourt said flatly. "I think that might work."
"Agreed," the general said. "But not Yorkshire. It's too close. And what if she is seen performing her necromancy?"
"She won't perform necromancy by accident," Fitzroy said.
"I do think exile is a good idea," Lady Harcourt said. "But perhaps in another country."
Another country! Why not just send me to the wilds of Africa and let the lions feast on me?
Eastbrooke agreed with her. "Leave it to me. Have her pack a few things now, Fitzroy. She can come with me today, and I'll have her on a ship by nightfall."
Today!
"To where?" Fitzroy asked.
"It's best if you don't know. The fewer people who do, the better."
"I disagree."
"An asylum would suffice," Gillingham grumbled. "That's where the freaks and deranged go. Hide them away, that's what I say. Does anyone know of an asylum in another country? Somewhere they don't allow visitors, preferably."
I gasped then shut my mouth. I listened for signs that they'd heard me, but none came. Lady Harcourt was speaking again.
"She doesn't belong in an asylum. General Eastbrooke, I like your idea of exile. I trust you have somewhere in mind?"
"I do. Pleasant little island I came across in my time in the army. It'll do nicely, but that's all I'll tell you about the place. Best if you don't know any more."
"I'll see that she's ready to—"
"No." Fitzroy's tone chilled me to the bone, even as my heart lifted to hear him speak out for me.
"No?" Gillingham sneered. "You dare to refuse the general's suggestion? If you ask me, she's getting off lightly."
"I'm not asking you. I'm not asking any of you for your opinions. Exile is not a good idea in this case."
"What?" Eastbrooke exploded. "Have you gone soft?"
"Let him speak," Marchbank said. "Go on, Fitzroy. What do you propose?"
"You're all correct in that our enemies will try to use her against us," Fitzroy said. "That's why we need to keep her close, not push her away. We can't keep her out of their hands if we can't see her."
"Don't tell me you want to keep her here," the general scoffed.
"I do, for two reasons. To protect her from anyone who would use her, and to study her."
"Study her! You have gone mad."
My sentiments precisely. Study me? As in subject me to tests and interrogation? I wouldn't be a party to that.
"No reason an asylum can't do the same thing," Gillingham said. "They have effective methods for studying patients."
"She will remain here," Fitzroy said. "Where I can keep an eye on her."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Lady Harcourt said. "This is a house full of men, for one thing."
Gillingham snorted. "You're worried about the virtue of a vile little whoring necromancer? My dear lady, there is no need for charity in this instance. The girl is an aberration."
"That is quite enough," Lady Harcourt snipped. "She is a human being, and an attractive girl. Living with a group of men is asking for trouble."
"I would hope, Julia, that you know me better than to think I would allow something unfortunate to befall her under my own roof." Fitzroy's frosty words were followed by silence.
The door suddenly opened and I fell backward onto my bottom. Fitzroy towered above me, blocking my view. I couldn't see anything past him, but more importantly, the others couldn't see past him to me either.
He shut the door, reached down and grabbed my arm. He hauled me up and marched me toward the service area at the back of the house. His grip was hard but not bruising, but his strides were long and I had difficulty keeping up. He didn't slow his pace as we passed Seth and Gus, carrying trays and linens. They stared at us, but didn't ask for an explanation. Perhaps Fitzroy's glower silenced them.
He marched me out to the rear courtyard, but didn't stop until we reached the orchard where he finally let me go. I rubbed my arm and glared at him. He glared back.
"Hear enough?" he snapped.
"I was only there a moment."
"Liar."
I bristled. "Very well. I heard sufficient to know that Lord Gillingham wants me dead, the others think I ought to be exiled, and you want to dissect my brain for science."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Surely he couldn't be smiling at me. I had been entirely serious. "Your brain will be safe from me."
"So, you have decided. Will they abide by your decision?"
"Yes. The real question is, will you?"
I blinked at him. "It's not as if I have too many other choices."
"There is always a choice."
"Then I choose to stay."
A few heartbeats passed before he said, "You haven't asked me what you'll do here."
"Very well. What will I do? Aside from be your scientific experiment."
"Be my maid. There'll be a great deal of work. It won't be easy. I require you to dust, mop the floors, do the laundry—"
"I know what a maid does, and I accept the position. I don't expect to live on your charity. I'll work hard. You won't regret the decision."
"I never have regrets."
"Lucky you."
"Don't agree, yet. Not without knowing everything."
"Everything? Are there rooms I've yet to see that are filled with mud?"
"I meant everything about me."
"I know you'll be difficult to live with." I tilted my chin, daring him to counter me. He didn't. "I know you have terrible moods, and I'll do best to avoid you when you're in a temper."
His eyes narrowed. "I admit that I have a temper, but I think I'm able to keep it in check."
I snorted, earning a glare from him.
"There is something aside from my temper that you need to know." He crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you recall that man who accosted you the day I set you down in Whitechapel?"
"He's difficult to forget. What about him?"
"I paid him to scare you."
My mouth flopped open. "Paid him? You mean…" I thought back to that night. The brute had mentioned receiving money, and his spirit had accused Fitzroy of tricking him. Bloody hell…
"I needed you to change your mind and help me find Frankenstein. I needed you to see that you were better off with me than living on the streets."
I slapped his cheek as hard as I could. It stung my hand and left a satisfying red mark on his skin, but not enough to quell the rage boiling within me. "He tried to rape me! What's wrong with you, that you would do such a thing?" I shouted.
He merely watched me from beneath long, thick lashes, but his face didn't change. Nor did he speak.
"You killed that man." I pressed a hand to my churning stomach. "You stabbed him to death, and yet he had done exactly as you asked."
"No, he didn't. He went too far. He was only meant to scare you."
"He succeeded."
"He wasn't supposed to go through with it and hurt you."
"Is that so? You thought you could control such a man?"
"Yes," he said quietly.
"Perhaps it's your fault that he almost succeeded," I snapped. "Perhaps he misunderstood you. Or were you just slow in reacting and rescuing me? Rescuing," I sneered before he could answer. "My God, Fitzroy." I leaned back against the trunk of an apple tree and drew in deep breaths to steady my frayed nerves. "How could you?"
Not only had he paid a monster to scare me, he'd then gone on to kill him. If he was capable of such things, what else was he capable of doing?
He didn't speak as I tried to gather my wits. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, with the mask in place, his eyes hooded. He held himself very still and seemed to be waiting for me to do or say something.
"Why're you telling me this?" I finally asked.
"So you can make an informed decision. If you choose to stay, that is the sort of person you'll be livi
ng with."
A cold-hearted killer. A man whose moral lines were blurred, and who'd do anything to succeed. The leader of an organization whose members didn't want a necromancer in their midst.
Yet he was also a man who'd never failed to protect me, and who'd offered me a safe home among friends.
"Do you want me to stay?" I asked.
"I want you to make a choice based on the facts. If you decide to stay, there will be a place here for you."
It wasn't the answer I'd wanted, but I knew it was the best he would give. He certainly wasn't trying to make it easy for me to decide, telling me I would be nothing more than a maid, as well as opening my eyes to the sort of person he could be. It was an odd way to induce me to stay, and yet I was grateful that he'd been upfront and that he left the decision to me.
"I'll give you time to think about it," he said, turning and walking off.
I pushed off from the tree. "I'll have an answer for you tomorrow." I raced after him and he slowed his steps to match mine. "You could have caught my hand," I told him.
His gaze slid sideways to me.
"I know your reflexes are fast. You could have caught my hand before I slapped your cheek." When he still didn't speak, I added, "You'll be gratified to know that it hurt me too."
"Will I?"
"I assume that now I'll be working for you, I can no longer use violence against you when you do or say something ill-conceived."
"You assume correctly."
"Then you'd better not do anything ill-conceived. I have a temper too, and controlling it isn't easy."
"I'll be sure to catch your hand next time."
I didn't tell him I had a good kick on me. We walked back to the house together. The committee had all departed, and the delicious scent of baking bread wafted out of the kitchen. I was starving.
"There you are!" Seth called from the landing. He came down the stairs and grinned at me. "It's safe to come back inside now. The dragons have departed."
"They're not all dragons," I said, smiling.
"True enough. Some are snakes."
I laughed.
Seth's gaze flicked to Fitzroy and his smile died. "Luncheon will be ready soon." He left us and headed toward the kitchen.
Once he was out of earshot, Fitzroy said, "If you remain here, there is only one rule that I require you to abide by."
"Don't steal the silver?"
"No fraternizing."
I arched my brows, then glanced in the direction Seth had gone. I laughed. He was friendly enough but certainly not in a way that tempted me. "I'll cross that off my list of morning chores."
Without waiting for his response, I hurried toward the kitchen. It wasn't until I saw Cook, Seth and Gus chatting quietly near the range that I wondered if Fitzroy was actually referring to me fraternizing with him.
I didn't find that notion the least amusing.
***
That afternoon was different to all the others I'd spent at Lichfield Towers. It was as if the four men finally relaxed, now that Frankenstein was caught. Well, perhaps Fitzroy wasn't all that relaxed, but the others were. We played some cards after luncheon, while Fitzroy remained in his rooms, but by mid-afternoon, Seth and Gus had grown restless.
"There be some cleaning for you to do," Cook told them. "The scullery's a pig sty."
"We're saving it for Charlie," Seth said with a wink at me.
"I haven't given my decision yet," I said. Fitzroy had briefed them on my future, and told them he'd given me until tomorrow to decide. Seth and Gus had treated me as a regular member of the household ever since. To them, it seemed natural that I would stay.
Perhaps I would, but I wanted to take the full time Fitzroy had given me. I wanted to make a decision with a clear head, after thinking through all the implications. I was, after all, giving up my freedom to become a servant.
"Want to spar?" Gus asked Seth after he lost all of his beans at cards. "I'm feeling restless."
"Sparring will be good. Meet me on the lawn."
The men left to change and I headed out to the lawn to wait. They showed up ten minutes later, stripped to the waist. I glanced at the house, expecting Fitzroy to storm out any minute and order them to dress when around me, but he didn't. I didn't want the men to change their habits because of me, so I said nothing. I just sat on the grass and watched.
They were good, but Seth clearly had the upper hand. I could well believe he'd been a bare-knuckle fighter when Fitzroy had discovered him from his hard punches and nimble footwork.
When they finished, they sat alongside me to catch their breaths. Cook brought out tea and cake and we ate sitting on the grass. I glanced up at the second floor and caught Fitzroy watching us from his window. He turned away, and I waited for him to join us. He didn't come.
I tried talking to him that night, but he told me he was busy and that unless it was urgent or I'd made my decision, he had no time for idle chatter.
"All work and no play will make you even grumpier," I retorted.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take."
He shut the door on me and I signed a rude gesture at it before going to my own room. I picked up a book and read into the night. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if I would be allowed to remain in the guest suite or be moved to the servants' quarters in the attic if I decided to stay at Lichfield as a maid.
The following day, I needed some time alone, away from the house. I'd not seen Fitzroy all morning or afternoon, so I informed the others that I was heading to the cemetery for a while. I promised to return before dusk.
The day was warm, thanks to the blanket of cloud smothering the city, and my skin felt damp by the time I reached my mother's grave. No, not my mother. I must stop thinking of her in that way.
An ache settled into my chest. She might not be my mama, but she had loved me up until her death, and that's what I would hold onto. I may never find out anything more about my real mother, but at least I'd experienced a mother's love in my childhood. Some children never had that.
I sat beside her grave and leaned back against the headstone, my legs stretched out in front of me. I breathed deeply. The scents were so much earthier and cleaner than in the rest of the city.
I must have dozed at some point, because I awoke with a start to the sounds of digging. The groundskeeper must be preparing a new grave nearby. Odd, because dusk had already settled. I was about to get up and leave when voices stopped me.
"Hurry up!" hissed a man. "We're sitting ducks out here."
"You were the one who wanted to come in daylight," said another, also male, but a little deeper than the first.
"You want to go wandering around the cemetery at night?" The first man snorted.
"What does it matter? If you're worried about ghouls, you should be worried about digging up this blighter. His ghost won't be happy to find his body missing."
I peeked around my mother's headstone and saw two men dressed in dark coats, both with shovels and a mound of dirt piled beside them. It was a fresh grave that I'd seen on my way in, one that hadn't been there on my last visit. What were they doing opening it up again? Whoever they were, I was certain they weren't supposed to be digging there. I couldn't see their faces, but they were both solid men, with brown hair visible beneath their caps.
The digging resumed at a faster pace until the second man spoke again. "We've got to be deep enough now, surely."
The sound of a shovel striking wood made them both laugh. "There. Come on, let's get him out."
I watched as they removed more dirt and then one jumped down into the hole. The other unraveled a blanket and tossed it down. The scraping of wood on wood made me cringe.
"Blimey!" the man down in the grave said. "That bloody stinks."
"What'd you expect? Roses?" He glanced around, and for one sickening moment, I thought he'd seen me. "Hurry up."
I breathed out a measured breath and remained still. They wouldn't notice me if I didn't move.
The ma
n in the grave pushed something up. It was wrapped in the blanket, and shaped like a human. His companion reached down and hauled it further out then gave a hand to his friend. He then picked up the wrapped body and tossed it over his shoulder.
"Go on ahead," he said. "Signal if you see anyone."
I watched them leave, my heart in my throat. I ought to do something to stop them, but what? They were bigger than me and stronger than me. I silently cursed and wished I knew how to fight. I'd been at the mercy of others so often, and I was tired of it. Tired of being pathetic and weak. Being fast wasn't enough; I needed to learn skills to help me fend off an attacker bigger than myself. I'd seen Fitzroy do it. The brute under the bridge had been bigger than him, and Frankenstein's creatures were stronger.
I waited several minutes before leaving my mother's grave. I kept vigilant for the body snatchers, but didn't see them. In the morning, I'd have to give an account of what I saw to the police, but there was little they could do to stop such a practice, unless they caught them in the act. For now, the robbers were long gone.
I walked swiftly back to the house and was a little breathless when I pounded on Fitzroy's door. He opened it, a frown on his brow.
"Is there an emergency?"
"No. Yes. Not really."
His brows rose and he stepped aside. "Then you'd better come in."
He indicated I should sit on the sofa, but I couldn't. I was too wound up, too eager to say what I wanted to say.
"Stop pacing, Charlie, and tell me what the matter is."
I stopped. "I've made my decision."
"And?"
"And I'll stay, on one condition."
He paused, then said, "No conditions."
"Hear me out. It's not a terrible condition. I think you'll find it a good one, actually."
"Go on."
"I want you to teach me to fight someone bigger than myself."
He leaned against the chair behind him and crossed his arms. "What brought this on?"
"Everything! All my life, I've been vulnerable. My size and gender has seen to that. I've had to be continually vigilant to protect myself. I know how to avoid most situations, and I can run away fast, but running becomes exhausting, and I don't wish to run away from here. I want to stay, and staying means I must learn to defend myself."
