by C. J. Archer
"Not now, Mother," he said through a strained smile. "Are you here to speak with your brother, Miss Cornell?"
"Eva," she corrected, speaking carefully. "My brother… Yes. It's still odd thinking of him like that. We don't really know one another."
"That will change, now, won't it, Charlie?"
"If that's what Lincoln, Eva and her family want," I said. "Perhaps after this investigation is over they can all dine here."
Seth looked pleased with the suggestion. "You will come, won't you, Eva? And convince your mother and brother too."
"It would be our pleasure to dine at Lichfield Towers," she said. "Thank you, Charlie." Eva gave me a genuine smile that faded when she caught Seth smiling broadly too. Why was she so wary of him? He wasn't even being overly effusive in his charm. I'd seen him be bolder. Besides, he wasn't trying to charm her. Not with Alice present.
Alice watched the exchange quietly, her face unreadable. Her gaze tracked Seth's path toward where she sat on the sofa.
He cleared his throat. "May I sit here, Alice?"
"Of course." She moved to give him room.
He hiked up his trouser legs and sat. "Pleasant weather we're having."
Alice looked from him to Eva then back again. "Yes."
"May I be so bold as to say that you look very, er, pretty today."
"Thank you."
He smiled gently. She attempted to smile back, but it seemed a little forced.
"Why are you sitting down?" Lady Vickers glared at her son. "Doesn't Mr. Fitzroy have work for you to do? You can't sit here chatting to Alice all day. Go on. Off you go."
Lincoln entered before Seth could respond. He must have overheard Lady Vickers because he simply arched his brows at Seth.
Seth sighed and rose. "I'm going." He sketched a formal bow for Alice but smiled at Eva. "The sooner I can get back to work, the sooner we can catch our killer and end this investigation. And then we'll have the family dinner to look forward to. Until then, Eva."
"Goodbye, Seth." Eva caught Lady Vickers' glare and added, "My lord."
Seth pulled a face and patted his stomach with mock self-consciousness. "Charlie, will you check my ears? Can you see any gray hairs in there?"
"Go away, Seth," I said, laughing.
He grinned and winked at Eva. She looked away, her face pink. Alice watched him go, a confused frown drawing her brows together. She wasn't the only one confused by his behavior. I didn't understand his manner toward Alice at all.
"To what do we owe this visit?" Lincoln asked Eva.
"Will you stay for tea?" I asked before she could respond.
"No, thank you," she said. "I must get back. I have a class in an hour."
"There are nursing classes?" Alice asked. "I didn't realize. Are they like university lectures?"
"The hospital conducts them with a more experienced nurse. We attend her rounds with her. They're not classes, really, more first-hand experience."
"That sounds far more interesting than a dry lecture."
"It is. I believe I learn so much more this way." She spoke of her chosen vocation with enthusiasm and warmth. She would make an excellent nurse. "I do study with books, too, and read medical journals, but it's not the same as seeing a real patient."
"Book study isn't required to qualify as a nurse," Lincoln said.
Eva bristled. She stared at him and he stared back, challenging. What was the matter with him?
"It's a fine thing to further one's knowledge," I said to cover the awkward silence.
Not that Eva seemed worried or upset by Lincoln's challenge. It was as if she were challenging him to speak his mind, or accuse her of whatever he wanted to accuse her of. The similarity between their severely drawn brows and firm jaws only drove home the family resemblance. She was a female version of Lincoln in behavior as well as looks. I wondered if Leisl noticed.
"I decided to respond to your message in person, Lincoln," Eva said curtly. "Yes, a note would have sufficed," she added, as if responding to his unspoken words. "But I thought you might have further questions for me, and this way we can get them over with all at once."
"A good idea," he said simply. "So did you sense the queen, or merely royalty?"
"It was certainly queenly. The threat came from a female presence that was not merely royalty but ruled. It did not come from a princess, that much was clear to me." She shrugged. "Who else could it be but our queen, Victoria?"
Lincoln merely nodded. "Thank you for clarifying."
"At least we know she's no immediate threat to us," I said. "She's currently away. I wonder where she is and when she'll return."
"Osborn House," Lady Vickers said without looking up from her mending. "That's where she goes at this time of year. She stays until her birthday in May."
Lincoln turned sharply to me. "Osborn House," he repeated. "It's on the Isle of Wight."
Leonora had gone to the Isle of White. Was it merely coincidence?
If not, she'd been sent there by Lord Ballantine for a reason. What if that reason was to murder the queen?
"It is on the Isle of Wight," Lady Vickers went on, inspecting a stitch. "Magnificent estate, I believe, although I haven't been myself. My friend, Lady Curuthers, was invited to a shooting party at Osborn House once with her husband, many years ago. I believe they shot pheasant." She put down her embroidery. "Or was it partridge? Whatever it was, she told me they had a marvelous time. That was when the prince consort was still alive, of course. There are no shooting parties there now, not when Her Majesty is in residence. She takes such a sad air with her wherever she goes. Honestly, we've all lost someone dear to us but we manage to battle through it. I'm not unsympathetic, you understand, but it's different for her. She ought to have rallied by now. Speaking of which, I doubt the threats that Miss Cornell speaks of will amount to anything, Mr. Fitzroy. Her Majesty doesn't wield a great deal of power and the only people who suffer from her fierce temper and iron-will are her children and grandchildren. Now they have reason to feel threatened if they went against her wishes."
"Even so," Alice said, "Eva is certain the threat to herself, Lincoln and Charlie came from the queen."
"Not us specifically," Lincoln told her.
"You are correct," Eva said. "I cannot be certain it is you two with me, but I do think people associated with you are the object of her threats. Do you have any more questions for me? Only I must be getting on."
Lincoln and I had nothing more to say, and we walked with her to the carriage. Lincoln paid the waiting driver to take her wherever she wished to go. Eva protested and refused to accept his money, but the coachman had no such qualms and she had to acquiesce when he took it.
"Why were you being so difficult about her nursing?" I asked him as we watched the coach drive off.
"I wasn't," he said.
"You were. It was as if you were accusing her of lying."
"She is. Nursing doesn't require much study or reading before qualifying. It's learned through employment, by being mentored by senior nurses. Eva even admitted as much."
"Perhaps she wants to further her education and have a more thorough knowledge of medical theories. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. So why lie about it?"
"Are you certain she lied?" I asked, some of the wind knocked out of my sails.
He nodded. "I sensed it. Not about the study, but about her reason for studying."
"Why would she lie about that? And what is her reason for studying? Oh!" I nodded, seeing what he could see, finally. "You think she wishes to become a doctor, not a nurse. That would require study."
"It's likely."
"I still don't see the point in lying about it. Not to us."
He touched my fingers. "Not everyone is as open as you. She may feel she can't confide in us. I'm sure she has met with resistance in her campaign to become a doctor."
"It's a perfectly legitimate profession for a woman nowadays. There is even the School of Medicine for Women in Hu
nter Street. Perhaps that's where Eva studies."
"It may be a legitimate profession but it's hardly acceptable." He held up his hands in defense when I glared at him. "In the eyes of other people. Perhaps Leisl is against it and Eva doesn't want us to tell her."
It seemed the only explanation for Eva not admitting the truth. Or perhaps she didn't want to seem less feminine in front of the very feminine and pretty Alice. I wondered how much Seth's opinion mattered, if at all. Eva seemed cautious where he was concerned, as if she expected him to do something unexpected and unwanted at any moment.
"What do you think of Eva's insistence that the threat came from the queen?" I asked as we walked slowly to the main staircase.
"That's not what interests me at the moment," he said. "I want to know why Leonora has gone to visit the queen at the Isle of Wight."
"If she is there to visit the queen. Perhaps it's just a coincidence."
"I don't believe in coincidences." He looked past my shoulder, and I turned to see Alice standing at the entrance to the drawing room, waiting for us to finish our discussion. "Meet me back here in fifteen minutes," Lincoln said to me. "We're going to find out what the Prince of Wales knows about the Ballantines."
He headed up the stairs and I joined Alice. "Is something wrong?" I asked her. "You look troubled."
"Not troubled. Not exactly." She glanced over her shoulder at the drawing room. "Can we talk somewhere privately?"
"Come and help me choose a hat to go with this outfit. One suitable for the palace."
She smiled and climbed the stairs alongside me. "Did you ever think when we were suffering through one of Mrs. Denk's lectures at the School for Wayward Girls that you would one day be hobnobbing with princes at Buckingham Palace?"
I laughed. "Never. I sometimes wonder what she'd say if she knew."
"I'll ask the girls next time I write. I already mentioned your first visit to the palace."
"You did not! Alice Everheart, you sly thing."
She giggled. "I told them that you attend parties with princes, princesses, ladies, lords and that your fiancé is as brooding as any hero from a sensation novel."
"Alice!"
"Speaking of lords," she said, her voice lower, "what do you think Seth is up to?"
I pushed open my bedroom door and invited her to enter ahead of me. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. You thought his behavior odd too. It was written all over your face."
I opened my wardrobe door and pulled out the little stool at the bottom. The hat boxes were stored up high and I was too short to reach them. Alice, however, was not. She took down one while I retrieved the other two.
"You should speak to Seth, not me," I said, setting the boxes down on the bed.
"I can't," she wailed. "He's so…closed."
"Seth? Hardly."
"He is with me. That's the problem, Charlie. He was so easy with Eva, as if they were well acquainted." She flopped down on the bed and lay back against the pillows. "I can understand why he talks to you. You're like a sister to him. But Eva is a stranger, and yet he's charming with her. With me, he's just…stiff."
I pulled out a green and black pillbox hat and fiddled with the froth of tulle on the front brim. Fortunately Alice didn't seem to notice that I was avoiding answering her.
"Why does he treat her so differently to me?" she said, a pout in her voice but not on her lips. "Why does he treat me differently to how he treats everyone else?"
I set the hat aside and sat on the bed too. "He's on his best behavior with you, Alice. We've been through this. You make him nervous."
"I wish I didn't. I only want to get to know him better."
"Then there's only one thing for it."
"What?"
"Flirt with him. Let him know you're interested. Be overt."
She frowned. "I'm not sure I know how to be overt." Her frown deepened. "I'm not sure if I am interested."
"Then why are we discussing him at all?"
"Because…because… Oh, I don't know!" She sat up and picked up the velvet bowler with feathers and ribbons. "This one goes with that outfit. The pillbox is too green and the bonnet is not elegant enough."
"Thank you." I gave her a hug. "Stop worrying about Seth. What will be, will be."
She sighed. "I'll try, but in all honesty, Charlie, I can't help myself. There's so little for me to do here that my mind keeps wandering back to him. I'm afraid I'm inventing intrigues where there are none and thinking through every encounter at least a thousand times."
"Plus you've become prone to exaggeration."
She laughed. "Come on. Let's pin this hat so you can meet your future father-in-law."
I giggled then sobered. Oh God. I was marrying into the royal family, in a way. How daunting. How exciting. Should we invite the Prince of Wales to the wedding?
To our great relief, the Prince of Wales was at home in Buckingham Palace. Less fortunate was the presence of his brother, the Duke of Edinburgh. He sprawled in an office chair with spindly legs and bright yellow upholstery.
The Prince of Wales greeted us cordially, if somewhat cautiously. I couldn't blame him for that. We only ever visited when something was afoot.
"Would you like us to open a window, Miss Holloway?" the duke drawled, a smirk tilting his lips. "Wouldn't want you to faint now."
"What are you talking about, Affie?" the Prince of Wales demanded.
"He's referring to the evening we met at Lord Underwood's party," Lincoln said. "We had to leave to follow a suspect but couldn't say as much in front of the other guests, some of whom are also suspects. Miss Holloway came up with the excuse that she wasn't well. I apologize for any offense, Your Highness. None was intended."
"A suspect, eh?" The duke nodded, thoughtful. Perhaps he was trying to recall who had been present. "What's the investigation? Are you allowed to tell me now?"
"Of course. You are both aware of the ministry. I see no reason not to inform you, especially since it seems to involve your family, in a way."
Both men sat up straight. "You'd better sit down," the Prince of Wales said quietly. "Affie, pour us all a scotch, will you? A sherry for you, Miss Holloway?"
I nodded, although I didn't feel like drinking with these men. I wanted to state our business and leave. Being in the palace made me feel a little uncomfortable, like I was out of place. The Duke of Edinburgh's presence added a healthy dose of anxiety to my nerves.
He handed me a glass of sherry but did not let go. He studied me in the brief moment he held onto the glass, as if he were trying to determine something about me. He did the same to Lincoln a moment later.
"Tell us about this investigation," the Prince of Wales went on. "Then I'll tell you what the queen said about King's visits."
I'd almost forgotten that we'd asked him to write to his mother about King in the hopes of discovering who might be following us. Since Lincoln hadn't mentioned anyone following us of late, I'd thought nothing more of it.
The duke sat with an audible exhale of breath. "How does your investigation affect us?" he asked Lincoln. "Come on, out with it, man."
"A young gentleman by the name of Roderick Protheroe was mauled to death in Hyde Park last week. The police think he was attacked by a dog, but evidence suggests it was a shape changer."
The Prince of Wales groaned. "Not another."
"This one is different to King. King was the only one we know of that could change into any shape. The others only have one alternate form, that of an animal. Not all shape changers are dangerous," Lincoln assured him. "But at least one is and has killed Protheroe. We don't know why."
"Why has it got anything to do with us?" the duke asked.
"He's getting to it," his brother chided. "Be patient."
"We've discovered a pack of shape changers among the elite of society," Lincoln said. "Some are your friends."
The prince expelled a breath and sat back. He drank deeply.
"Don't be ridiculous," the
duke spat. "Our friends are above suspicion."
"No, they are not." Lincoln fixed his gaze on his uncle, and he held it until the duke looked away. "No one is above suspicion. Not even you, Your Highness."
"I beg your pardon!"
"Calm down, Affie!" The Prince of Wales flapped his hand at his brother. "We know our friends are above suspicion, but Mr. Fitzroy does not. He is simply doing his job."
The duke grunted. "You would defend him."
The prince rolled his eyes. "Who are these shape changers in our set?"
"Mr. Franklin is one."
"Who?" the duke asked.
"Mr. Franklin and Miss Collingworth. They're young friends of Lord Ballantine."
"Ballantine! Yes, him I know. Good chap."
"He's also one. Somewhat less certain is Sir Ignatius Swinburn," Lincoln added.
"Swinburn!" The Prince of Wales shook his head. "I doubt he's involved unless the fellow's death makes him richer. Money's all he cares about."
"Bloody hell," the duke muttered into his glass. Unlike his older brother, he seemed less certain of Swinburn's innocence. Perhaps he knew Swinburn better. Or perhaps he knew something about Swinburn that the Prince of Wales did not.
"Affie, mind your language in front of Miss Holloway."
The duke grunted an apology. At least, I think that's what it was. "I doubt Swinburn is involved, even if he is a shape changer," he said. "He's a good man. He wouldn't kill anyone, even if it somehow made him richer. He already has a fortune with no one to give it to. He's generous with it, too, so I can't see him going to any great lengths to get more. What makes you think this so-called pack is involved in the murder, anyway? Couldn't it be someone of King's ilk? Someone to whom death and crime is an everyday occurrence?"
"The victim had a secret arrangement with Lord Ballantine's daughter," Lincoln went on. "They were going to run away together and marry against her parents' wishes. The link to Ballantine is too strong to ignore."
"You think Ballantine found out and killed the fellow?" the prince said.
"Or had him killed."
The duke shook his head. "Why go to such an extreme? Why not just lock the girl away or swiftly marry her to someone more suitable?"
