by C. J. Archer
Franklin didn't rise to the bait. He collapsed against the wall and slid down it until he sat, legs outstretched, breathing hard. Blood streamed from his nose and sweat dampened his hair. Both his lips and one of his eyes had begun to swell. "You win," he choked out. "You may as well kill me because I won't give you the answer you seek." He closed his eyes and cradled his broken wrist to his chest. "Go on. End it."
Protheroe's lips drew back, revealing loose teeth. "Damn you! Damn you!" He pulled his fist back to swing another punch. Franklin opened his eyes and watched. He just sat there, ready to take whatever Protheroe served.
Protheroe growled and grabbed Franklin by his robe and swung his fist at Franklin's cheek.
"Stop, Mr. Protheroe!" I cried.
Protheroe halted, his fist a whisker from Franklin's face. He jerked his head to me and growled again. "Let me kill him. He deserves it. He deserves to die for what he did to me, to Leonora. My beloved…" He shook his head and his shoulders sagged. "Please, Miss Holloway, let me do this to avenge my death."
"I cannot. I'm sorry. Go now, Mr. Protheroe. I release your spirit. Rest in peace."
"No! Not yet!" The corpse's mouth stopped moving half way through his protest, but his spirit finished it. The others would not have heard all the words, but I did. "Miss Holloway, I beg you. Let me do this. Let me send him to hell."
I watched as the ghostly mist broke apart and whooshed up to the chandelier. Then he was gone.
I looked down at the corpse now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Franklin kicked it then drew back his legs as if he expected it to hit back. When the corpse didn't move, he tipped his head back and laughed. It was a half-crazed sound mixed with a splutter. He wasn't laughing, he was crying.
"Get yourself to a doctor," Lincoln told him. He signaled to Gus to remove the corpse.
I opened the door and Gus passed me, the body flung over his shoulder. I waited for Lincoln but he still stood near Franklin. I worried that he was too close to the strong shape changer, but I need not be. Franklin was too broken to attack. He still bled profusely from his nose and his eye had swollen shut. His hand hung limp from the wrist.
"We will find out who ordered you," Lincoln said. "You won't get away with this."
"On the contrary," Franklin said. "We already have. Scotland Yard will not arrest people like us. We're too powerful and no evidence points to us."
"There are other forms of justice that don't involve the police." Lincoln turned his back and strode to me.
He followed me outside and into the carriage where we sat opposite the body of Roderick Protheroe. Gus had propped him up in the corner as if he were alive. It didn't remain upright for long as Seth drove at speed through the streets, back to the cemetery where we re-buried the body.
I leaned the daffodils against the headstone and silently apologized to Protheroe for disturbing his rest. He would not hear me if I'd spoken aloud anyway, but I needed to tell him in my own way. I felt as if we'd failed not only him but Leonora too. We were no closer to learning who ordered the murder, and Franklin had been correct—we couldn't do a thing with the knowledge. The police wouldn't arrest anyone for the crime.
I watched Lincoln as I sat across from him in the coach for the short drive back to Lichfield. His dark eyes were like fathomless pits that sucked everything into their depths—the air, sound, me. The silence in the cabin thickened, pressing down on me, yet I didn't know how to break it. Lincoln didn't want to talk to me. I didn't need to see his face clearly to know, I just did. He was rattled. He'd not come away with the outcome he expected, and he wasn't sure what to do next. He didn't want comforting, he wanted a plan of action. I could offer none so I went to bed with only a "Goodnight," spoken between us.
I lay under the covers, thinking of how I'd disturbed Roderick Protheroe's peace, of how he'd become a violent man in death, and how Nigel Franklin was prepared to die to keep his secret. I knew one thing for certain—he had been ordered by someone to kill Protheroe, and that someone had enormous power over him. He was willing to die to protect them. If it were me, I'd only be prepared to die for Lincoln, someone I loved very much. We'd not learned of Franklin being in love, although he might be prepared to protect his parents.
But the more I lay there, staring up at the bed canopy, the more I felt certain he was protecting his pack leader. Swinburn.
The arrival of Eva early in the morning interrupted our meeting. Lincoln had told Gus, Seth and me that he wasn't going to tell the committee about our nocturnal visit to Franklin, chiefly because I'd used my necromancy and we knew how that would rile some of them—namely Gillingham. We were about to discuss what to do next when Whistler came to fetch us. He said Miss Cornell waited in the drawing room with a gentleman. He failed to tell us the gentleman was her brother, David.
"I'm so pleased to finally meet you," I said when Eva introduced him. "I'm Charlie, Lincoln's fiancée."
He smiled unconvincingly and glanced past me to Lincoln. Introductions were not necessary for him to recognize his half-brother. He seemed to know that the man who looked remarkably like himself was his mother's eldest child. The resemblance was striking. Both men sported sharp cheekbones and the dark complexion of the gypsy. They were both tall, although Lincoln's shape was more of a V with his broader shoulders. Most striking of all was their eyes, the color of pitch, which now regarded one another with an equally cool measure.
I cleared my throat and glared at Lincoln. He finally looked at me and realized he had to introduce himself to our guest. He reached out a hand. After a telling hesitation, his brother took it.
"Cornell," Lincoln said.
"Fitzroy," David said.
Oh dear. So it was going to be like that. I wished Seth and Gus had joined us, or even Alice and Lady Vickers. More people meant more conversation and less chance for the ice to set.
"May we speak about something in private?" Eva asked with a glance at Doyle. The butler left and closed the door behind him. Eva wrung her hands in her lap and did not meet anyone's gaze.
"Is something the matter?" I asked. "You look upset."
"That's because she is." David pointed a finger at Lincoln. "And it's your fault."
"David," his sister chastised. "We don't know that for certain."
"We do know. Everything was fine until Mama met him. Ever since New Year's Eve, things have started happening."
"What things?" Lincoln asked.
"Nothing too terrible," Eva said.
"Don't play it down," David told her. "At first, we didn't think much of it," he said to us. "Mama felt she was being violated. It was just a feeling, and nothing came of it."
Lincoln stilled. "Violated?"
"Like her affairs were being investigated," Eva said. "You understand, Lincoln."
He nodded.
"I don't," I said. "What affairs?"
"A feeling that someone is trying to find out more about her," David told me. "She felt as though her personal records had been searched. Births, marriages, property rights, et cetera. Publicly available records, that sort of thing."
"But not like an actual trigger," I said, more for Lincoln's benefit.
He shook his head. "Her seer's senses felt the violations."
"She's strong enough to do that?"
"Yes," all three said.
David plucked at the cord edging the chair arm and shifted his feet. Where Lincoln was always so still, his half-brother was fidgety. "And more recently," he went on, "people have been following her. Then this morning, someone confronted her in the street outside our home."
I gasped. "Confronted her!"
Lincoln's lips flattened, a sure sign that this news troubled him. I wasn't sure if the others would notice the small movement, however. Most wouldn't. "Who?"
"How do we bloody know?" David shouted.
"Shhh," his sister said. "Getting upset will achieve nothing."
"Except conveying how upset we are."
"What did the person who confron
ted her look like?" I asked.
"Male, average size, average looking," David said. "She was shaken, and I'm not sure she took much in. I doubt she could pick him out again. She's frail. Her character may be strong, but this sort of thing troubles her nerves."
"As it would any woman," I said. "What did this man say specifically?"
"He wanted to know who your father was, Fitzroy."
Hell. At least we knew it wasn't someone connected to the Prince of Wales, since he already knew. It could be Alice's parents, although it seemed such an odd thing for them to care about. More likely it was Swinburn.
"And how did Leisl answer?" Lincoln asked.
"She refused to tell him," Eva said. "A neighbor walked by and she took the opportunity to invite her inside for tea to get away from the stranger."
"Thank goodness for that," I muttered.
"Then she wasn't threatened," Lincoln said.
David frowned. "Pardon?"
"He did not tell her that ill would befall her if she didn't tell him the name of the man who sired me. So she was not threatened, as you claimed just now."
David threw his hands in the air. "Semantics."
"David," his sister hissed. "Stop it."
"Eva, he's not giving this the due concern it deserves."
"On the contrary," Lincoln shot back. "I am concerned."
"Bloody odd way of showing it."
"David," Eva snapped again. "That's enough."
"Lincoln is taking the matter very seriously," I assured him. I cast a glare at Lincoln but he wasn't looking at me. "This is a nasty business, and poor Leisl must be frightened."
"She won't admit it, but she is." Eva rubbed her forehead, smoothing her wrinkled brow. "We hoped you might know who it was and warn them away."
"Or just tell them who your father is," David said to Lincoln. "What does it matter who knows, anyway?"
Lincoln didn't reply and that only seemed to rile David more. He plucked the chair arm with vigor, all the while his intense gaze on Lincoln. Lincoln met it with an equally intense one.
Eva caught my attention and mouthed "Help."
"It's my fault," I told David. "Not Lincoln's. I was the one who insisted we visit Leisl and get to know her better. Someone followed us and worked out the connection. I think."
David stiffened and his fingers stilled. "You didn't wish to get to know your own mother better, Fitzroy? It took your fiancée to convince you?"
"I have no need of a mother," Lincoln said, matter of fact.
A small crease appeared between David's eyes. "No man needs his mother, but I can't imagine anyone not wanting to know her."
"That's because you don't know me."
This meeting was going from bad to worse.
"David," his sister warned, as if she knew what he would say next.
He tossed her a tight smile. "You're worrying for nothing, Eva. I wasn't going to say anything more to our brother, except that he must fix this mess. Our mother doesn't deserve to be subjected to that sort of treatment at her time of life. She made one mistake, thirty years ago, and has led an exemplary life since. Yet that mistake haunts her."
My heart dove to my stomach. I wanted to take Lincoln's hand and assure him that he was not a mistake, that his birth was foretold and that Leisl probably lay with the Prince of Wales because she knew it had to be. But I could say none of that in front of Leisl's legitimate children, particularly David. He would only hate me for saying it about his mother, and I didn't want to alienate Lincoln's family, no matter how much some of its members didn't like him.
Eva's breath hitched. She shook her head in reproach at David. A flicker of regret passed across his eyes, but he did not apologize. He got to his feet and held out his hand to his sister.
She cast me a sad look then took his hand. "We ought to go," she said. "We don't want to leave Mama alone for long in case the man comes back."
"If he does threaten her," Lincoln said, also rising, "notify me immediately."
"And you'll do what?" David snapped.
"Insure it doesn't happen again."
"How?"
"You don't wish to know the answer to that," I cut in quickly. I slipped my hands around Lincoln's arm, but it did nothing to ease the tension rippling through him.
"I do," David said, squaring his shoulders.
"No," I said, more firmly. "You do not."
David's frown deepened as Eva ushered him toward the door. "Thank you for seeing us without notice," she said to me.
"Not at all. You're welcome to call on us at any time. That reminds me. I'll send an invitation to dine with us as soon as things settle down here. We're rather pre-occupied at the moment. I hope you can all attend."
"We will all be happy to come, Charlie. Thank you."
David said nothing until she pinched his arm. "Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Holloway. I can see you have your hands full. I wish you luck."
"Er, thank you. And please call me Charlie since we are almost family."
"Come along, David," Eva said when he opened his mouth to speak.
Lincoln opened the door and allowed our guests to walk ahead. Gus and Seth hovered in the entrance hall and greeted Eva. I suspected they wanted to know what David looked like and find out how he and Lincoln got on. Gus couldn't stop staring at him. Seth, however, showed more interest in Eva. He smiled and gave her a shallow bow. She turned to David, presenting Seth with her shoulder.
"This is Gus and Lord Vickers," Eva told her brother. "Friends of Lincoln and Charlie's."
"What's with the 'my lord' business?" Seth smiled crookedly. "It's Seth, remember."
"I prefer we use titles," she told him.
"Why?"
"It's more appropriate."
He blinked at her. "Oh. Very well. If that's what you prefer, Miss Cornell, then I'll oblige. But I can't guarantee I'll answer to Vickers, although you do make it sound more important than I deserve." He winked at her.
She blushed and hurried after her brother.
Once they were gone, Gus gave a gruff laugh and shook his head. "Blimey, you're like your brother, sir."
Lincoln strode off. "We're nothing alike."
I sighed and asked Gus and Seth to join me in the drawing room where I told them what had transpired. "David is furious. He thinks it's Lincoln's fault that his mother was accosted."
"It is, in a way," Seth said, stretching out his legs. "Their lives were peaceful before the New Year's Eve ball."
"Leisl chose to come to the ball, and she knew Lincoln would be there," I said hotly. "Lincoln had no choice in the matter. None of this is his fault. You should have heard David. He was not very nice at all."
"Jealous," Gus said. "He looks like Fitzroy and yet he ain't got a house like this or lots of money."
"Nor does he have a fiery little fiancée like Charlie," Seth said with a crooked smile. "I agree. He's jealous. Pay him no mind, Charlie."
I sighed. "I suppose he must see it as unfair. Lincoln is the illegitimate one and yet he has so much at his disposal, whereas David and his sister must work hard for meager wages. I only wish he knew that money isn't everything, and Lincoln has had a cold and hard life without a mother's love. I'm sure if he knew, he wouldn't be jealous."
"But you're not going to tell him, are you?" Seth said carefully. "Fitzroy wouldn't like it."
I sighed again. "I'd better go and see him. He looked upset."
"He did?" Seth looked to Gus. Gus shrugged. "He looked the same as he always does to me."
I was waylaid by Lady Vickers on the staircase. She asked me to pay calls on her friends today if I was free. Alice had declined and she wanted company. I agreed, as long as Lincoln could spare me.
I found him in his rooms at his desk. The desk surface in front of him was bare and he did not greet me. I laid a hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"Nothing."
I circled both arms aro
und him and whispered in his ear. "What are you thinking, Lincoln?"
I felt him sigh, even though he made no sound. "I'm wondering who cares enough about my parentage to question Leisl."
"Not the Everhearts," I answered for him.
"Doubtful."
"The palace already know."
"Yes."
"That leaves Swinburn and his pack."
"It does." He'd clearly reached that conclusion before I entered the room.
"So the question is," I said, "who told Swinburn that your father is someone who matters? He seems to think it knowledge worth having."
"Keep going." He was encouraging me to follow the line of thought, not because he hadn't already followed it, but because he wanted me to reach it on my own.
"Er, how long will it be before Swinburn hurts Leisl to get answers?" I suggested. "Is that what's on your mind?"
He placed his arms over mine, holding me against him. He tipped his head back to look at me. Earlier, his eyes had been as hard as stones. Now they swirled like smoke in the night. "What if he decides to target you instead?"
I frowned. "Why would he do that? He must know I'm well protected here."
"Well protected because I care about you. If he wants to get to me, he'll target you."
"You're jumping to conclusions, Lincoln. He only wants answers."
"For now."
I moved so that I could see him better and caught his face in my hands. I smoothed my thumbs over his cheeks until I felt him relax a little. "Lincoln, you're making a mountain out of a mole hill. No one has been threatened. Even if Swinburn is willing to hurt someone to get his answers, he'll choose Leisl, not me. She's a far easier target, and there's always a chance you haven't informed me of your father's identity. He's not going to target me, Lincoln, particularly after Franklin informs him that I can call the dead to my aid." I caressed his cheek with my thumb. "Plus he will have heard about the imp, too. Stop worrying about me."
He plucked my hands off and turned away. "Easier said than done."
"I think this is about Leisl," I said as a thought struck me. "You are worried about her, but you don't want to admit it. You want to pretend that I'm the only one you care about because you can't even admit to yourself that your heart is capable of loving more than one person."
