by C. J. Archer
"How?"
He paused. "I'm not sure yet. Hopefully a plan will come to me before we get to the house."
"You weren't going to admit you didn't have a plan, were you?"
"If it were anyone else but you, I wouldn't let on."
I hooked my arm through his and we headed back down the street. "How many times have you made it up as you went along?"
"Too many times to count." He suddenly stopped as a hooded figure turned the corner at a brisk walk, her cloak flapping with each purposeful stride.
Leonora glanced over her shoulder then pushed back her hood. "I'm sorry I'm late. It was so hard to get away. Father is watching me keenly."
"We thought it must have been difficult for you," I told her. "Thank you for coming. This is Mr. Fitzroy, my fiancé."
She nodded a greeting. "We must be quick. What is it you wanted to tell me? Has Roderick communicated with you again, Miss Holloway?"
Oh dear. She thought I had a message from her deceased beau. I wondered if Lincoln had suggested it in his note or if she'd merely assumed. I wouldn't put it past him to deliberately mislead her to ensure she met with us.
"We have a few questions for you, Miss Ballantine," Lincoln said.
"Oh." She fiddled with the cloak's clasp at her throat. "About Roderick's killer?"
Lincoln nodded. "We know you're a shape changer."
Her face blanched. She stared unblinkingly at him.
"Your secret is safe with us," I assured her. "The ghost of your sister told me."
"Lilith?" she whispered. "You've seen her too?"
"She said your father is also a shifter, yet his hands show no signs of it." I touched her fingers. She had left the house without gloves and somehow that made her hands seem even larger.
"I don't know why his aren't big like mine, but he is a shape changer. So is Mama. Are you one too, Mr. Fitzroy? Is that how you know about our…condition?"
"No. A shape changer killed Protheroe."
Leonora stumbled back a step, her hand to her chest. "My god. No. Not Father. I…I don't think he's capable of such a thing."
"What of the others in your pack?"
"I don't know." Tears filled her eyes and she suddenly seemed much younger than me, even though the age difference wasn't great. "I'm not allowed to run with them yet, so I don't know all of them well, just those who are also part of our social circle."
"Like Mr. Franklin and Sir Ignatius Swinburn."
"It wouldn't be them. They're kindhearted and loyal."
"Loyal men kill for their leaders," Lincoln said.
She swallowed heavily. "Perhaps it wasn't someone from our pack. Perhaps it was the other pack." The notion enthused her and she blinked hopefully back at us.
"You know about them?" I asked.
"I overheard Father telling Mama about the East End pack a few weeks ago. He said they were causing problems. He mentioned the leader's name but I can't recall it now."
"Gawler?"
She shook her head.
"King?"
"That's it."
"King is dead. Gawler is leader now."
"Whoever it is, you ought to look there for someone to blame. Father told Mama they covet us."
"Covet?"
"Oh yes. Very jealous of our position in society compared to their pack's lowly one. Father even suggested they might try to marry one of us." She pulled a face. "Can you imagine? What audacity!"
"It would keep the shifter bloodlines strong," Lincoln said carefully. "A pack can only inter-breed for so long."
"It would certainly keep the shifter blood pure, which is probably why they killed my poor Roderick—to keep me available for one of their own." She shivered and looked behind her again. "Please don't tell my parents—or anyone—that I spoke freely about the pack to you. I shouldn't have, but I feel as though I can trust you, Miss Holloway, since you're also not normal."
I almost retorted that I was normal but bit my tongue. If she confided in us because she thought me a kindred spirit, I could be as odd as she liked.
"I ought to get back," she said.
"We'll walk with you until you're safe," Lincoln said.
She looked relieved and set off at a steady pace between us.
"Have you ever felt as though you were being followed or spied upon?" I asked her.
She shook her head and once again glanced around her.
"Has your father told you when you will run with your own pack?"
"No. He says I'm not old enough yet, but…" She sighed. "I think that's just an excuse to keep me away from them."
"Why would he do that?"
"To keep me safe."
"From what?"
She lifted one shoulder. "I don't know."
We walked on in silence for a few minutes until I heard her sniff. "What is it, Miss Ballantine?" I asked gently.
"I miss Roderick so much." She accepted the handkerchief Lincoln passed to her and dabbed her eyes. "I miss Lilith, too. Mama has not been the same since her death, and I feel I can no longer talk to her as we used to. I don't want to upset her, but I feel so isolated now."
"Perhaps you should tell your father," I said. "Tell him you need to speak with others like yourself. Perhaps he'll let you run with the pack then."
She nodded. "That would make me feel a little better. But it won't bring my Roderick back." She lowered her head and sobbed into her hand.
I glanced at Lincoln. He looked somewhat uncomfortable.
"Leonora!" bellowed a deep masculine voice ahead of us. "What are you doing with those people?"
Lord Ballantine! He stood several feet away, his stance wide, his thick bushy brows crashing low over his eyes. He lifted his hand and that's when I saw the pistol.
He aimed it at Lincoln.
Chapter 10
I swallowed my scream but Leonora did not.
"No!" she cried. "Don't! Please, Father, I am not harmed. I came willingly."
"Come here!" Lord Ballantine ordered with a wag of the pistol. "Now!"
Head bowed, she rushed to his side.
"What do you want with my daughter?" Ballantine snapped.
"We're trying to discover who killed Roderick Protheroe," Lincoln said calmly.
"That name means nothing to us."
Leonora began to cry again, her shoulders shaking. Ballantine offered her no comfort.
"That's odd," Lincoln said. I groaned silently. He was going to poke the wolf to extract answers. "We have it on good authority that your daughter and Protheroe had an understanding."
He glared down at Leonora. Her shoulders hunched as she shrank away from him.
"We didn't hear it from Miss Ballantine herself, you understand," I said quickly. "Those were Protheroe's own words, and he may have overstated her commitment. Lincoln," I added in a whisper, "you'll get her into trouble."
Ballantine lifted the pistol again. "If I see you near my family again, Fitzroy, I will use this." He grabbed Leonora's arm and marched her back down the street and around the corner.
I blew out a breath and pressed a hand to my rapidly beating heart.
Lincoln touched the back of my neck, his thumb making small circling motions. He seemed utterly untroubled. "He wouldn't have used it," he assured me. "It's far too much of a risk. He's not above the law."
"Perhaps not, but he can make your death look like an accident or a wild dog attack."
"He would have to catch me first."
I thumped him lightly in the shoulder then threw my arms around him. He held me tightly. "Please stop being so cocky," I murmured into his chest. "It'll get you into trouble."
We walked in the opposite direction to the Ballantines toward a cab-stand. I clutched Lincoln's arm but glanced over my shoulder several times. "That man is horrible," I said. "Imagine treating his own daughter like that. He doesn't care about her feelings at all. The poor girl is in mourning for Protheroe, but no one understands the depth of her feeling."
"He probably thinks h
e has her best interests at heart."
"And what are those?"
"Marriage to someone better than Protheroe."
"If we had a daughter, would you want her to marry someone of good breeding? Someone others would consider better?"
He humphed softly. "Charlie, if I wanted my loved ones to marry someone better, I would have walked away from you."
It took me a moment to realize I was his loved one and he considered himself beneath me. I grasped his hand and held on tightly. "I'm glad you didn't."
"So am I."
We reached the cab-stand, and Lincoln spoke to the driver before assisting me into the hansom. He settled beside me and closed the waist-height door.
"I hope Lord Ballantine doesn't punish Leonora for speaking to us," I said as we drove off.
He watched me from beneath lowered lashes, but made no comment.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Have you always thought me cocky?" he said.
"I refuse to answer that on the grounds I may incriminate myself."
"How was your visit to Lady Mallam and her daughter?" I asked Seth as we sat in the library after supper.
We'd retreated to the library along with Lincoln and Gus to discuss our meeting with Leonora and her father's reaction. After the discussion ended, Lincoln got up to stoke the fire. Gus appeared to be mulling something over and not listening to us.
Lady Vickers ate in her room, and Alice could be heard playing the piano. She and Gus had played neither tennis nor croquet but instead paid a visit to Gus's great-aunt and her orphan charges. They now resided at the late General Eastbrooke's house and, by all accounts, the children were thriving under Mrs. Sullivan's care. A teacher had also been appointed and lessons had begun in earnest, although some of the children weren't too keen on sitting in a classroom. It sounded like Gus and Alice had enjoyed a full afternoon.
"Interesting," Seth said, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles. "My mother clearly has Hettie in mind for me, although I think Lady Mallam will take some convincing. Apparently a ne'er do well is not all that attractive in a potential son-in-law."
"You're not a ne'er do well," I said.
Gus snorted, proving he was listening.
"Not anymore," I added.
Gus snorted again.
Seth glared at his friend. "The interesting thing is that I enjoyed Hettie's company. She's clever and quick witted. She made me laugh." His lips curved up at the corners. "She is also no longer a plump little thing."
"How would you describe her now?" I asked.
"Shapely." His eyes brightened. "Pretty."
"Just the sort to interest you."
"They all interest him," Gus said.
Seth rose and peered down his nose at Gus. "Not anymore. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see if Alice needs me."
"Why would she need you?"
"For my good company, of course."
Gus rolled his eyes. After Seth had gone, he said, "Just once, I want a woman to say no to him."
"Alice is saying no."
"He ain't tried everything with her yet. He's still got more tricks up his sleeve. You watch, Charlie. When he turns on the charm, she won't be able to resist."
"Perhaps that's why he hasn't turned on the charm yet," I said, remembering what Lincoln suggested. "Perhaps he secretly doesn't want to win her. He prefers dalliances, not commitment."
"Aye. True." He absently stroked his scar where it tugged down the corner of his eye and watched Lincoln, now perusing the bookshelves.
Lincoln pulled out a deep green volume and flipped open the pages.
"What are you looking for?" Gus asked.
"I want to re-read the information on wolves and pack behavior," Lincoln said. "I'm curious about both Ballantine and Swinburn being leaders. I didn't think it possible to have two but I'm not sure."
"Perhaps one is the leader and the other second in command."
"These packs may not follow regular animal behavior," I said. "Their habits could be quite different."
Lincoln nodded. "True."
He sat and read. I joined him, perching on the chair arm, and read over his shoulder.
Gus remained quiet for a long time, and I thought he'd fallen asleep, but then he shifted in the chair. "I've been thinking about Eva's warning, Fitzroy," he said. "About the queen threatening some of us."
Lincoln closed the book and gave him his full attention. "Go on."
"Eva says she didn't see the queen, just sensed her." Gus rested his elbows on the chair arms and leaned forward. It wasn't a small chair but his hulking frame filled it.
"What if what she sensed was royalty? It might not have been the queen, specific, but a prince or duke. You said yourself your uncle the duke don't like you."
"I'm not sure that he doesn't like me," Lincoln said.
"You did snub him last night at Underwood's party," I reminded him.
"That's hardly deserving of a threat."
"And I think you unsettle him. His brother is already fond of you, even proud of you. Perhaps the duke is worried that the future king will make you powerful. Or that he'll let slip your relationship at an inopportune moment and the newspapers will get wind of it."
"The Prince of Wales is not likely to forget his place and let something like that out, especially in public."
"I do think Gus has a good point, though. Eva may not have realized she sensed royalty. We should have asked if the threat came from a woman."
"I'll write to her," Lincoln said, taking my hand. "It's a very good point."
Gus beamed and pushed out of the chair. "Right-o. I'm to bed. If you don't need me tomorrow, I'm going to help my aunt out for the day. The house needs some repair work done."
"I can provide the funds for a builder," Lincoln said.
"No need. It'll keep me out of trouble." He bade us goodnight and closed the door behind him.
"What about us?" I asked Lincoln. "What are we going to do tomorrow? I can't see a way forward. Perhaps we can speak to Gawler again. Leonora suggested his pack wants to breed with hers so he could have killed Protheroe to remove him and free her. But I'm not so sure. For one thing, it's rather an extreme measure to stop her marrying Protheroe. And for another, I remember Gawler saying he thought it a good idea to breed out the shape changing trait altogether. Do you think he could have simply said that in a fit of pique after King ousted him as leader? Lincoln? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because I like watching your mouth move when you talk."
I smiled.
"And especially when you smile."
"So what do you think? Should we speak to Gawler again tomorrow?"
"If you want to." He lifted a hand and traced my top lip with his thumb then my lower lip. "But right now," he murmured, "I want you to bring that mouth down here and kiss me."
He tugged me off the chair arm and onto his lap where he kissed me tenderly. I soon forgot all about shape changers and murderers. And Lincoln had certainly forgotten his rule of keeping his distance from me.
We decided not to visit Gawler again. Lincoln felt as though we'd extracted as much information from him as we could. That put us precisely nowhere with our investigation. Lincoln decided to adopt a wait-and-see approach. After Gus and Seth returned from Mrs. Sullivan's orphanage, Lincoln sent them to follow Lord Ballantine about the city. Hopefully he would meet with his fellow pack members to warn them not to talk to us. If he did, we would have more names. Of course, there was the very distinct possibility that he would simply send messages instead.
We had not expected Seth and Gus to return a mere two hours after they departed. I spotted them through the window, lingering near a poplar tree on the front lawn. They'd arrived behind Lord Ballantine's coach, which now waited in front of the Lichfield steps.
"Lord Ballantine," Doyle announced, showing his lordship through to where Lincoln and I sat in the drawing room. We'd seen the coach arrive and braced ourselves for another fiery
encounter.
Lincoln left it to me to play the hostess and invite Ballantine to sit. Lincoln neither extended his hand for his lordship to shake nor welcomed him. I thought it a reasonable response considering the man had pointed a pistol at him the day before.
Ballantine did not sit. He didn't acknowledge my presence at all. The force of his glare focused on Lincoln. Lincoln glared right back.
"Close the door, please, Doyle," Lincoln said. "His lordship won't be staying for tea and we are not to be disturbed."
Doyle's eyes momentarily flared at Lincoln's brusqueness toward a peer of the realm, but he showed no other emotion and bowed out. My apprehension couldn't be as easily schooled. I swallowed heavily and watched Ballantine closely. If he was armed, we were in trouble.
Perhaps I ought to sneak out of the room and fetch a weapon.
"Stay away from my family," Lord Ballantine growled.
"Your daughter was happy to talk to us," Lincoln said.
"You tricked her! Leonora told me she pretended to have a message from Protheroe's ghost." He stabbed a finger in my direction.
I stilled, as if he'd pinned me to the spot with it.
"You don't deny knowing Protheroe then."
Lincoln's statement caught Ballantine by surprise. His jowls momentarily shook in confused indignation but he quickly recovered. "You even dragged my Lilith into this. That's low, Fitzroy."
"I did speak to Lilith," I said. "And Mr. Protheroe."
"Charlie," Lincoln warned with a shake of his head.
"I can communicate with spirits." Hopefully Leonora hadn't used the word necromancer to describe me to her father. Lincoln was right; the fewer people who knew about it the better. But it wasn't such a ghastly thing to be a medium.
Ballantine looked me up and down then turned away, dismissing me. Clearly he did not see me as interesting or threatening. I edged toward the door.
"What do you want, Fitzroy?" Ballantine spat. "Leonora said you're blaming me for Protheroe's death."
"I'm keeping an open mind," Lincoln said. "But he was murdered."
"I know nothing of his death. The man's family only let it be known he died suddenly. It couldn't have been murder. A murder would be reported in the newspapers and I read The Times daily."
