Of Fate and Phantoms (Ministry of Curiosities Book 7)

by C. J. Archer

  "Not leadership. I never took on that task. I never wanted it." I didn't think Mink wanted it either, but it had been thrust upon him after Stringer's death. I wished I could do something for him, for all of them. I could, if only Mink would accept my help.

  Alice squeezed my hand and I looked up at her. She gave a small nod in Harriet's direction, sitting opposite. Harriet stared out the window into the inky black streets of Clerkenwell. She wasn't very good at shielding her emotions, and her misery was written clear on her face.

  "Harriet?" I asked softly. "Don't be too upset."

  "How can I not be?" Her lower lip wobbled and she sniffed. "That was the first opportunity I've had to talk to someone like myself and he wasn't interested in talking to me."

  Alice pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule and passed it to her. "I'm sorry, Harriet."

  Harriet dabbed at her eyes and nose. "So am I. I wanted to ask a woman shifter for advice."

  "What sort of advice?"

  "You wouldn't understand. Neither of you would. I mean…look at your lovely delicate hands!" She looked down at her thick, knobby fingers, twisting the corner of the handkerchief. "They're ugly. I'm ugly."

  I swapped seats to sit beside her and put my arm around her shoulders. "You're beautiful. Look in the mirror. Everyone says so."

  "Who?"

  "Seth, for one." Too late, I realized my mistake. I'd hoped to cheer up Harriet, since she seemed to hold a torch for him. But Seth wouldn't want his name connected to Harriet's, or any woman's, in front of Alice.

  Alice's spine stiffened, but I couldn't be sure if that meant she cared or she was simply adjusting her posture. "You are the prettiest, most elegant woman I've ever met," she said to Harriet. "Indeed, your face and figure are so feminine that I'm sure no one even looks at your hands."

  "Oh." Harriet dabbed at her eyes and gave Alice a watery smile. "You're very sweet."

  I smiled at Alice and mouthed, "Thank you."

  "Perhaps Mr. Gawler didn't realize how important it was to me to meet the others in his pack," Harriet said. "I know he only wanted to protect me, but if he knew what it was like to never have met another, he would have invited me to do so, I'm sure."

  "The East End really isn't for ladies," I said, patting her hand. "Perhaps I shouldn't have brought you."

  "No, Charlie, don't think that!" She grasped my hand in hers, enveloping it almost entirely. "I feel so much better for having met Mr. Gawler. I do, honest. I don't care that he's from the slums. Indeed, he wasn't the violent, debauched sort I was expecting. He was quite civilized."

  "You sound as if you were expecting a barbarian."

  "It's what I've always been led to believe about men who live in the East End."

  "They're not all criminals. Some are, but most are poor working men trying to earn enough to feed their families. It's a wretched existence, I'll give you that, but that doesn't mean they're wicked people."

  "I see that now. If only he'd taken me to visit his friends, I wouldn't have minded walking through the streets at all. Look, my hem is dirty and I don't care a whit."

  I eyed Alice opposite and she bit back a smile. Harriet was as silly and innocent as a child, sometimes. Gawler had done the right thing in refusing her. I'd hoped she'd have been satisfied simply to meet him, but it seemed I'd miscalculated. She wanted to speak to a woman. Perhaps after this was over, we could ask Gawler to negotiate a meeting with one. I wouldn't mention it to Harriet until I was sure it would go ahead. I didn't want to disappoint her if it didn't.

  We deposited Harriet at her home and I was thoroughly grateful that Lord Gillingham was still out. I didn't want to battle with him.

  "Will you be able to persuade your butler not to talk?" I asked as she stepped down from the carriage.

  "Unlikely," she said. "I expect Gilly will lecture me on the dangers of associating with you when Owen tells him."

  "Will he insist on locking you in your room again?"

  "Not if I tell him I'll simply climb out while all the neighbors are watching and cause a scandal. I've seen you and Mr. Fitzroy do it, and I'm sure I can too. Gilly hates scandal."

  I kissed her cheek through the window. "Good luck."

  We didn't have to wait long after our arrival at Lichfield for Lincoln, Seth and Gus to return. I didn't need to ask how their afternoon had been. Frustration was written all over Seth and Gus's faces. Lincoln's was as unreadable as ever.

  "Cook is putting together something for supper," I told them. "We'll take it in the parlor in front of the fire. Alice and I have news."

  They'd been about to head upstairs to wash up, but they paused at my announcement.

  "You've been out," Lincoln said. I tried to gauge his thoughts so I knew how to answer, but couldn't quite read him. I suspected he was holding back on something but I couldn't tell what or why.

  "How do you know?" Alice asked.

  "Your hems are dirty. Some of it's blood."

  "Blood!" Gus and Seth cried.

  Gus knelt and inspected my hem. "Bloody hell, Charlie, what've you been up to?"

  Now I understood why Lincoln was holding back. He'd noticed the blood and had been waiting for me to broach the subject rather than asking me outright, or demanding that I tell him, which he would have done in the past.

  "We could have simply gone for a walk around the garden," I said.

  "Your defiance in the face of my simple statement that you've been out would suggest not."

  "Damn," I muttered. "Next time I'll answer with as much indifference as you."

  "Is there a reason you're reluctant to tell me where you've been and why you have blood on your dress?"

  "Yes," Seth chimed in, hands on hips. "Isn't that why you want to talk to us in the first place?"

  "It is, but I was hoping to approach the subject in such a way that wouldn't worry you, or anger you, or cause this sort of reaction." I waved a hand at Lincoln.

  "What sort of reaction?" he asked. "I thought I was being very calm, considering there is blood on your dress." He crossed his arms defensively.

  "We're quite unharmed."

  "So I see."

  "So there's nothing to worry about."

  "I'll be the judge of that."

  "Charlie!" Seth shouted. "Just tell us!"

  Gus grabbed my elbow and marched me into the parlor. I glanced back over my shoulder at Lincoln. He merely arched his brow and followed. This wasn't going at all how I planned it in my head. I had planned to repeat what we'd learned from Gawler first then tell the story from the beginning, in the hope they'd be so grateful for the breakthrough they'd stop being overbearing.

  "Sit," Gus said, directing me to a chair. He looked far more rattled than Lincoln. Perhaps because Gus wasn't very good at hiding his thoughts whereas Lincoln was a master at it.

  Seth and Alice strolled into the parlor like a couple heading into the dining room, her hand on his arm. She sat too. All the men remained standing.

  "Sit down," I told them. "You're being so male."

  All three sat.

  "The blood isn't human, it's animal," I told them. "We've been to Smithfield Market."

  Seth blew out a breath. "Is that all? Why didn't you say you went marketing?"

  "Smithfield's closed by midday," Gus told him. "They weren't marketing."

  "You're correct," I said. "We went to meet a man there by the name of Gawler. He's one of the shifters that Lord Erskine read about years ago."

  Gus and Seth fired questions at us while Lincoln merely sat and waited. He leaned his elbow on the chair arm and stroked his lip with the side of his finger. He didn't take his gaze off me. He looked like he had all evening to hear my answers. I suppose he did.

  Alice and I answered each question until our story was complete. "I'm sorry we didn't wait for you," I said. "But if we waited any longer, we would have missed him today, and tomorrow could be too late."

  "I disagree," Seth grumbled. "It wasn't safe to meet a strange man, a shifter no le
ss, in a meat market, of all places."

  "Aye," Gus agreed.

  "Charlie's right," Lincoln said, to my utter amazement.

  "Have you gone mad?" Seth shook his head. "Anything could have happened!"

  "They're grown women, free to do as they please. Both are sensible."

  "You are mad."

  "Seth," I warned him. "No woman likes to be told what she can and can't do." I jerked my head in Alice's direction, but I wasn't sure he got my meaning. He did, however, remain mercifully quiet.

  "As to the matter of taking Lady Gillingham with you," Lincoln said. "I'm not so sure that was wise."

  "Nor am I," I said on a sigh. "In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn't have. For one thing, I'm worried I've landed her in further trouble with her husband, and for another, she didn't seem too happy when Gawler ran off."

  "She wanted more," Alice told them. "She wanted to meet the others. Meeting him wasn't enough."

  "You weren't to know that," Lincoln said. He gave me a small smile, and I smiled back. It seemed quite impossible, but we'd reached the end of the discussion unscathed with neither of us storming out or shouting. That conversation would have tested our relationship in the past.

  I told Lincoln as much after the others retired for the night. "Once upon a time you would have been cross with me for going out without you," I said, coming to sit on the arm of his chair.

  He rested his hand on my hip and looked up at me. "And you would have disagreed with me when I said you were unwise for taking Harriet, even though you knew I was right."

  "I was never that stubborn."

  He arched a brow.

  "Fine, I was, but so were you." I stroked his loose hair and admired the way his eyelids drooped in pleasure. "We've come a long way," I added quietly.

  He took my hand and pressed the wrist to his lips. My blood pulsed. "We've both matured," he murmured.

  "Goodness, any more mature and you'll be an old man."

  He tilted his head to look at me. He wasn't laughing. "Do you mind that I'm so much older than you?"

  "Ten years is not that much, Lincoln. Look at Lord and Lady Gillingham. There must be twenty years between them, at least."

  "That's not the same. They're not the same as us."

  "True." I cupped his face in my hands and stroked my thumbs over the rough stubble on his jawline. I locked my gaze onto his. "No, Lincoln, it doesn't concern me, and before you say that it might one day, let me assure you that it won't. It never will."

  He went very still. "Does that mean…" He swallowed. "You've decided?"

  I drew my hands away. He caught them, then had second thoughts and let go.

  "Charlie?" he asked, huskily.

  "I need a little more time." I'd been prepared to tell him yes, but thinking about Harriet locked away in her room at her husband's command had given me pause. Not even the servants would help her, since he was their lord and master and paid their wages.

  I couldn't tell Lincoln any of that. He would only try to reassure me that he would never do such a thing. And I believed him. I truly did—now. But what if he changed again? What if he thought he was doing the right thing and keeping me safe? He might have acted calm and agreeable earlier when Seth and Gus had been cross, but I couldn't be sure if he believed his own words. It was entirely possible he was merely saying what he knew I wanted to hear. After our history together, Lincoln knew the thing I hated and feared the most, aside from losing my home, was losing my freedom.

  "Anyway," I said. "It's nice like this, isn't it?" If he heard the longing in my voice, he didn't say.

  He merely nodded. Then he leaned forward, circled his arms around my waist, and rested his cheek against my chest. I cradled his head and kissed it. We stayed like that until he pulled away with a sigh and announced he had to go out.

  "To find King's house?" I asked.

  He nodded. "You're not surprised?"

  "I knew you'd go tonight since I mentioned Bloomsbury and how Gawler had reacted when I asked him if King could shift into other shapes."

  "King's the man we need. I'm sure of it now, thanks to you."

  "But you don't know precisely where he lives."

  "Bloomsbury's not large and I have contacts there. If he's ever drunk at an inn, bought tobacco, or been to a whore, I'll find him."

  "You're going to speak to a whore?"

  "You have nothing to worry about." He kissed my cheek as he rose. "She's not a patch on you. You have all your teeth."

  I caught his hand as he walked off. "Be careful, Lincoln."

  He kissed me again but on my mouth this time. It lasted until my bones turned to jelly and my heartbeat skipped. "Goodnight, Charlie."

  I did not bid him goodnight as I planned on being awake when he returned.

  However, my body had other ideas. I must have dozed off in the parlor. I awoke to a dark, cold room, the fire having gone out. A noise had startled me and I rose to look for Lincoln.

  "Where is she?" came a thin, youthful voice I didn't recognize.

  My heart pounded once then halted. My mouth went dry. It was too dark to see the intruder, but the voice came from the doorway. The shadows there moved.

  Oh God! What did he want? Had Gawler sent someone to attack us? Could he see me, sitting on the sofa?

  "Where is she?" he said again, but harsher, more desperate. "We're running out of time. Look!" The figure burst out of the shadows, brandishing a pocket watch.

  But it wasn't the watch that caught my attention. And it wasn't a man holding it. He was a…creature with a white hairy face, long ears and cat-like whiskers. No, not a cat; a rabbit. He was fully clothed, and rushed toward me on hind legs like a human.

  I screamed louder than I've never screamed before.

  Chapter 12

  The rabbit stopped and pulled down its long ears. "Cease that infernal racket!"

  I leapt off the sofa and grabbed the fire iron in one hand and my imp's orb in the other. "Don't come any closer."

  The rabbit checked the watch again and clicked its tongue. "We're wasting time. She must come with me now."

  I brandished the fire iron but kept my distance. The rabbit didn't seem to want to attack me, but I wasn't going to let down my guard. "Who are you? What do you want?"

  "Charlie!" came Gus's shout, followed by pounding footsteps down the stairs.

  "Charlie?" That was Seth.

  "In here!" I called. "There's an intruder!"

  The word was hardly out of my mouth when Gus and Seth barreled through the door. Gus hurled himself at the rabbit. They crashed through an occasional table. Wood splintered, and the lamp sitting on it broke apart when it hit the floor. Fortunately the lamp casing rolled away, the glass in tact.

  Doyle entered, carrying a candelabra. He stopped short upon the sight of the rabbit on the floor. "Oh my!"

  Gus gave an uncharacteristic yelp of surprise as the light fell across the rabbit's face, but he didn't get up. He sat on its chest, pinning its wrists to the floor. He did lean back and eyed its large teeth warily.

  "Bloody hell," Seth said, studying the rabbit. "What the devil is that?"

  Cook peered over Seth's shoulder. "Want me to turn him into stew, Charlie?"

  The rabbit squirmed, but it was no match for Gus. "Let me go! There isn't time for this! We're going to be late."

  "For what?" I asked, rather stupidly.

  "An important appointment with an important person."

  "Explains the fine clothes he be wearing." Cook looked down at his own nightshirt, tugging it over his protruding stomach. Doyle and Gus also wore nightshirts, whereas Seth was bare chested, his trousers riding low on his hips.

  "Are you one of them shifters?" Gus asked. "One of Gawler's mates?"

  "I don't know who or what you're referring to," the rabbit said in a crisp upper class accent. "But I'm here to collect Alice for her appointment. If you don't—"

  "Alice!" Seth snapped. "What do you want with her?"

  "I told you—
"

  "Oh!" I cried. "Alice!" She wasn't here. My scream hadn't woken her up, although it had woken everyone else. Mrs. Cotchin and Bella stood by the door, clutching candles, but Lady Vickers ordered them to return to bed.

  I pushed past her, but she hardly noticed me. She was staring at the creature on the floor trying to wriggle out from beneath Gus. "Now I've seen everything," she muttered.

  "Doyle, your candelabra, please," I said.

  He handed it to me and I raced up the stairs, taking two at a time. I pounded on Alice's bedroom door, but she didn't answer. She was a heavy sleeper, particularly when she was having one of these odd dreams. I hoped waking her up would get rid of the rabbit. The last time her nightmare had come to life, back at the school, she'd shrunk herself in the dream and so had become miniature in life too. It had been impossible to find her and wake her.

  I pushed open the door and, careful of where I stepped, approached the bed. She was in it and normal size, fast asleep, thank God. "Alice," I said. When she didn't wake, I shook her. "Alice! Wake up!"

  She awoke with a start and sat up. "Charlie? What's wrong?" She groaned before I answered. "Oh no. It happened again, didn't it?"

  "There's a white rabbit on the floor in the parlor, demanding that you go with him."

  "Or I'll be late," she said heavily.

  I nodded. "What will you be late for?"

  "I have no idea." She climbed out of bed and threw a shawl around her shoulders. "He should be gone now. Oh, Charlie, I'm so sorry."

  I hugged her. "It's all right. It's not your fault. Besides, he was harmless enough." Unlike the army who'd tried to capture her at the school. Their weapons had been very real.

  A number of footsteps rushed along the corridor. Seth appeared in the doorway, carrying a lamp, Gus behind him. Cook, breathing heavily, joined them.

  "Alice?" Seth passed the lamp to Gus and took Alice's hands in his own. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes, thank you," she said, speaking to his bare chest. "They don't harm me."

  Seth stood a little straighter. "Your dreams?"

  She nodded. "I am never harmed. Those around me, however, are in danger."

  "The rabbit was well behaved," I assured her. "Particularly after Gus sat on him."