I jumped to the side. My hand slipped down the pipe but I managed to partially grip it with the soles of my shoes, stopping me from sliding too far. I used my thighs and knees to clamp myself to the pipe and shimmy down. The cold metal stung my bare hands but it was not yet slippery from dew or rain and I managed to maintain my grip.

No sound came from above me. I glanced up and breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted Lincoln following me down the pipe. He must have secured his position with stealthy silence. I felt like an elephant in comparison.

"What are you doing by the window?" the shrill voice demanded. "Who's out there?"

"No one, Mrs. Franklin," Leonora said with a convincing sigh. "I'm just thinking of my poor Roderick."

"Forget him. He's gone."

"My darling child," came another, softer voice.

A figure blocked the light from the room. I held my breath and glanced up to see a woman's back as she brought her arm around Leonora. Her hand was bandaged. Leonora closed the window without looking down at us.

I shimmied the final few feet to the soft earth. Lincoln landed beside me, took my hand and we slunk off into the night.

I didn't take a full breath until we reached the beach at East Cowes. "That was close," I said, speaking for the first time.

"They would not have attacked," he said. "I'd wager they don't want us associating them with their shape changing form."

"But they already know that we know they're shape changers."

"Leonora does, and her father, but I'd wager he didn't share the information with his wife. Otherwise they wouldn't have attacked us earlier. They were counting on us blaming wild dogs if we managed to escape."

I checked behind me to make sure we weren't followed. No one did, yet I felt uneasy. "So Swinburn is pack leader," I said, "and he wants to get his pack member into the royal family through marriage."

"Not just one pack member. Do you recall his behavior toward Miss Collingworth at the dance? He did not want her flirting with Seth."

"I remember Franklin saying she was intended for another."

"Prince Eddy's younger brother, George, perhaps."

He put his arm around my shoulders and I felt the tension leach away. In fact, I began to enjoy the moonlight walk. The waves lapped gently at the shore, a soothing balm for my frayed nerves. The air was cool but not cold, particularly with Lincoln's arm around me and my body tucked against his. The man always managed to feel warm, no matter the weather.

I breathed in the salty air and looked up at the sky. It was the same sky as London's, and yet different. There were more stars, away from the city's miasmic haze, and even the crescent moon offered enough light to see by. Beyond its enchanting reflection on the water, endless darkness yawned, the lights from the mainland too far away to see.

"We should come back here again," I said, snuggling into Lincoln's side. "It's beautiful."

"If you wish." The softness of his voice had me looking at him.

"You don't wish to come back?"

"I only want to be where you are, Charlie."

I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder. His grip tightened and he kissed the top of my head. "You must be able to appreciate this place for its own merits," I said. "You don't find it beautiful?"

"I appreciate beautiful scenery," he said. "But beautiful scenery is not why I choose to visit a place."

"That's because you never take holidays. You only leave London if it's ministry business."

"If you want to leave London for a holiday, then I have no objection."

He didn't understand what I was saying at all, but it didn't matter. He wanted to be with me, and that's what mattered. "What if I want to sail around the world?"

He fell silent, and I worried I'd offended him by teasing him about his seasickness. "Will you tend to me in my weakened state?"

"Of course."

"Then I have no objection."

"I hear New Zealand is lovely."

* * *

We arrived back at Lichfield late the following day to a rather frosty household. Seth and Lady Vickers were not on speaking terms after she took Alice with her on her afternoon calls. I thought it sweet of her and told Seth so, only to be informed that there'd been gentlemen present on both occasions. Young, eligible gentlemen, and they'd taken an interest in Alice.

So much so that one had sent her a letter and the sister of the other had asked if she'd like to join her on a walk around Hyde Park the following day.

"Hyde Park!" he declared. "And with the sister no less."

We sat alone in the library with the doors closed. Lincoln and Gus had departed in haste after we'd exchanged ministry news. I think they'd seen the troubled expression on Seth's face and decided they'd rather be anywhere else but listening to his lovesick moaning. I was beginning to wish I'd gone with them.

"What's wrong with Hyde Park and sisters?" I asked.

"It allows Alice and the fellow to meet without raising suspicions. Everyone wanders through Hyde Park at some stage, so it wouldn't be suspicious if one stumbled upon an acquaintance there. And the sister is merely the one issuing the invitation for propriety's sake. That's the benefit of sisters. They can act as co-conspirators."

"Diabolical."

"Don't mock me, Charlie. I am bruised enough."

"And what does Alice say about these two gentlemen?"

"How would I know?"

"By asking her."

He pulled a face. "I can't ask her that. She'll think me desperate."

"She'll think you're jealous, which you are."

"Yes, but I don't want her to know."

"You do if you want to secure her affections. A jealous man is quite attractive, as long as it doesn't become an obsession. A little jealousy shows her you're interested in her."

"She knows I'm interested."

I sighed. He and Lincoln had more in common than either realized—women were attracted to them and yet they were both inept when it came to genuine courtship.

"You need to speak to her, not me," I told him.

"I can't."

"Just try."

"No, I mean I can't because she hasn't come out of her room since the mail arrived."

"After receiving the gentleman's letter?"

"She received that and another, from her parents, so Doyle said."

"You asked Doyle to tell you who sent her mail? Seth, that's underhanded."

He slumped further into the chair. "Fitzroy would have done it."

True, and it wasn't fair for me to judge Seth harshly when I wouldn't have judged Lincoln. The thing was, I expected Lincoln to be underhanded. For some reason, I put Seth above Lincoln on the honesty scale, and that wasn't fair to either man.

"I'm going to freshen up," I said, rising. "It's been a long day and last night's sleep was broken."

"A good night, eh?" His lips didn't move but his eyebrow quirked, telling me exactly what he thought Lincoln and I had got up to on our last night at the Fountain Inn.

"Because we were speaking to Leonora," I said, hand on hip, "not because of…that."

"I didn't say a word!"

"Your eyebrow said it for you."

He pressed his fingers to his brow. "It has a mind of its own. I'd never suggest such a thing to a lady. Or to you. I mean you are a lady, now." He cleared his throat. "Don't tell Fitzroy I disparaged your virtue. He'll kill me."

"He won't kill you. Hurt you, yes, but not kill you. He's grown rather fond of you."

"He has an odd way of showing fondness. I swear he growled at me just now."

"That wasn't a growl, it was a groan. He groaned because he didn't want to hear about your woes with Alice. Nor do I. I want to hear how you've wooed her and won her over with your charm."

"I'm beginning to think it hopeless." He sighed and pushed out of the chair. "My charm has deserted me."

"Nonsense. You charmed Eva the other day."

"That's because I like Eva."

"You don't like Alice?"

He made a sound in the back of his throat as if he were frustrated. At my misunderstanding or his inability to express himself? "She's not intimidating like Alice. She reminded me of you. Like a sister, but not really."

I hooked my arm through his and hugged it. "Thank you, Seth."

"For what?"

"For being my big brother."

"I said like a sister, and then I added 'not really'. Typical sibling. They never listen."

We both grinned as we exited the library.

Seth headed to the kitchen to avoid seeing his mother, and I went in search of Alice. She was indeed in her room and invited me in with an unconvincing smile.

"I'm so glad you're back, Charlie," she said, hugging me far too tightly considering the short length of our separation.

I clasped her arms and met her gaze with mine. She looked away and returned to her dressing table. Unlike my dressing table, with its sparse contents, hers was covered with enamel combs, a brush, hand mirror, two bottles of perfume, a pair of gloves, a fan, reticule, and some pots of varying sizes containing creams. The letter perched on the side seemed out of place among the feminine things. It wasn't until I drew closer that I saw another letter crumpled on the floor in the corner where she'd tossed it.

"Was your journey to the Isle of Wight productive?" she asked.

"In a way." I sat on the end of the bed. "How have things been here?"

"Fine."

"Then why do you look so unhappy?"

She blinked at me in the mirror's reflection until her eyes filled with tears.

"Is it Seth?" I pressed. "Has he been…" I didn't know how to finish. I couldn't imagine Seth causing her this much sorrow. He was just too amiable.

"No, not Seth."

"The calls you've made with Lady Vickers then? Did one of the gentlemen offend you in his letter?" I nodded at the piece of paper on the floor.

"This is from the gentleman I met yesterday," she said, tapping the letter on the dressing table. She carefully folded it and placed it at the back of the dressing table. She did not want me to see it and she did not elaborate on its contents. That didn't bode well for Seth's cause.

"Then what upset you?" I asked.

She frowned at the crumpled wad of paper, as if she could make it catch fire with a single fierce look. I picked it up instead and handed it to her.

She did not take it. "It's from my parents. Read it."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

I sat again and smoothed out the paper, slowly, deliberately. The last missive she'd received from her parents had implied she was living in a house of ill repute and suggested that Lincoln was taking advantage of her. He and Alice had both written back and assured them that wasn't the case, but the Everhearts' lack of response was telling. They likely did not believe their own daughter.

The letter was written in a scratchy scrawl that I guessed was a man's, but was signed with an impersonal 'your faithful parents'. It consisted of one densely packed paragraph and began without preamble or an exchange of news.

I stared at the letter and shook my head, over and over. What harsh, cruel words to say to their own daughter. It was impossible to believe that they could be so righteous after banishing Alice from the family home when her nightmares became real, and then refuse to take her back when Mrs. Denk threw her out of the School for Wayward Girls.

"They are the vile ones," I said and crumpled the paper up again. "They twist the truth to suit their own views." I immediately regretted my outburst, however. They were Alice's parents, after all, and she must harbor some love for them still.

She took the paper from me and threw it into the fireplace where it blackened, curled, and finally ignited. "That's what nonsense deserves," she spat.

I was glad to see her fieriness win over her sorrow. It meant she neither believed them nor would give in. "Do you think they'll come?" I asked. "Or are they all bluster and no action?"

She stared at the flames. "They will come. The part about my reputation 'at this crucial time' is telling. I think it means they have a husband in mind for me. Someone eminently suitable, no doubt, and terribly dull."

"You don't have to go," I said. "You don't have to leave Lichfield if you don't want to."

She threw herself onto the bed beside me with a low moan. "You've been so good to me, Charlie, but I will not bring my troubles down on your head too. You should be looking forward to your wedding and a life with Mr. Fitzroy, not worrying about me."

I lay on my back too and stared up at the ceiling. "You can't go before my wedding. I want you to be my maid of honor."

She flipped onto her side. "Truly? Me?"

"Yes, of course."

She embraced me fiercely, sending her unbound hair tumbling over my face. "Then I won't leave yet."

I pushed her hair aside. "You won't leave at all if you don't want to. Promise?"

"Promise."

We talked some more about the wedding, the Isle of Wight, and her gentlemen admirers. The topic of her parents didn't arise again. I couldn't stop thinking about their letter, however, and went directly to Lincoln's chambers to inform him.

We sat in his sitting room, both of us on chairs at opposite ends of the room. It would seem neither of us could trust ourselves in close proximity to the other after our wonderful sojourn. It may not have been a holiday, but it felt like one.

"She believes they'll come for her," I said.

He nodded, somewhat absently.

"Lincoln? Is something the matter?" The news seemed to trouble him more than it did me, and that meant I'd missed something.

"I was thinking about the investigator they sent," he said. "It's possible it was his presence I felt following us."

"But you saw someone in royal livery. It's unlikely the Everhearts' investigator changed clothes to follow us about, let alone changed into clothes that are difficult to come by."

He nodded slowly. "Then we had two sets of people following us. Someone sent by the Everhearts and someone with access to royal livery."

"The Ballantines, from their association with King."

"Or Swinburn. As pack leader, he's the more likely suspect."

* * *

I awoke to the sound of a door slamming and sprang out of bed, fully alert, heart pounding.

"Charlie!" It was too dark to see more than her silhouette, but I knew Alice's voice. It did not usually sound so panicked.

"Alice, what is it? What's wrong?"

Someone pounded on the door. "Open up! You have to come with me, Miss Alice." I recognized that voice too, and groaned. The white rabbit from her dreams was back.

Yet Alice was awake.

I blinked at her but she must not have seen in the dark. She was too busy pushing against the door to keep the rabbit from entering.

The creature hammered on it again. "We're going to be late!" He sounded as panicky as Alice. "Please, Miss Alice, if you don't come, I'll be in—" He choked on the final words and all went silent.

"Come away," I said to Alice.

"But he's still there!" She pressed her ear to the door. "He sounds as if he's being strangled."

I pushed her aside and flung open the door. Lincoln had the rabbit's head in a choke hold, its long white ears brushing Lincoln's chin. The rabbit's paws scrabbled at his bare arm, but it was too dark to see if he drew blood.

"Don't kill him!" I hissed. No one else was about so I assumed—hoped—none had woken from the noise.

I was wrong. Seth and Gus emerged out of the dark corridor, throwing on shirts as they ran softly toward us. They stopped short when they spotted the rabbit in Lincoln's grip.

"Bring him in here," I whispered. "We need to interrogate him."

"Him?" Seth asked. "You sure it's a male?"

"It's wearing trousers, you dolt," Gus whispered back.

"Huh. So it is."

Lincoln grabbed the rabbit by the arms—or forelegs—and shoved him in the back.

"Ow!" the rabbit protested.

"Shhh," I hissed. "You'll wake up the household."

Alice lit the lamp on the table by the door as the men piled into my room. Lincoln pushed the rabbit onto my bed. The creature landed on his large back paws and hopped off the other side.

Lincoln didn't chase him but stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The rabbit swallowed and adjusted his tie, his nose twitching madly. He was better dressed than Lincoln. While the rabbit wore a blue waistcoat and trousers, Lincoln wore only his loose exercise trousers and nothing to cover his chest. The white bandage on his upper arm stood out against his skin. His other arm sported scratches where the rabbit had dug in his claws.

"What the bloody hell do you want with Alice?" Seth demanded from where he and Gus guarded the door.

"I've been tasked with bringing her back to Wonderland," the rabbit said with as much snootiness as Lady Vickers. "Hand her over."

"No."

Alice shot Seth a wan smile of thanks. He looked pleased, even though he pretended not to notice.

"What is Wonderland?" I asked.

"Another realm," the rabbit said.

"And why do you need to take her there?" Lincoln demanded.

"To face trial for treason."

Alice gasped. "Trial!"

"Treason!" I said. "How can she have committed treason when she's never been to your Wonderland realm?"

The rabbit sniffed. "You're stupid. Everyone in this realm is stupid. I don't know how you can bear it, Miss Alice."

"I…I…" Alice clutched her throat and appealed to me.

I simply shrugged. This entire situation was not only absurd, it was confusing. "Why are you still here when Alice is awake?" I asked the rabbit. "Her dreams should vanish when she wakes up. They have in the past."

"Things are progressing," the rabbit said.

"What things?" Alice pressed.

"Matters in Wonderland." The twitching of the rabbit's nose became more vigorous and his eyes darted between Lincoln and his quarry. "You're wanted, Miss Alice. You must face your trial so the realm can move on. Come back with me. Please. It's urgent now."

Alice shook her head, over and over, her eyes huge. "You're talking gibberish. I don't understand any of this. Wonderland…trial…treason…why does it involve me?"

The rabbit clicked his tongue. "I don't have time to explain now. I'll tell you when we get there." He reached out his front paw. "Come now, Miss Alice. Come back with me."

"Back?" she echoed. "Do you mean to say I've been there before?"

The rabbit stretched out his paw again, pleading. The scene was utterly ridiculous, and yet no one laughed. A thousand questions churned through my head but I asked none of them. For one thing, Alice needed to ask the questions important to her, and for another, I doubted the rabbit would answer me. Indeed, all of us except Alice seemed unimportant to him. We were merely in the way of him completing the task he'd been charged with.

"I know you don't remember," the rabbit said gently. "But you will. I'll explain when we get there and it will all become clear again." He beckoned with his outstretched paw. "Come with me, Miss Alice. You know you must."

She chewed her bottom lip and for one heart-stopping moment, I thought she would take his paw. Then she looked to me, her heart in her eyes, and clasped my hand. "No," she told the rabbit. "I'm staying here."

The rabbit huffed out a breath and lowered his paw. "You silly, silly girl. She'll be furious. Her ranting will be heard clear across the realms." He gulped. "And I must be the one to tell her you won't come."

The rabbit's paw touched his waistcoat pocket and Lincoln leapt onto and over the bed then pinned him to the wall.

"I just wanted to check the time!" the rabbit protested, paws in the air. "My watch, sir. May I?"

Lincoln eased back enough so the creature could tug on his watch chain. He flipped open the case and pressed the button on the top. The watch chimed once and the rabbit disappeared into thin air.

Lincoln fell forward, his forearm smacking into the wall where the rabbit had been a moment ago. He swore.

"Where did it go?" Gus asked, looking around the room.

Seth opened the door and checked outside. He returned, shaking his head. Gus checked under the bed, in the wardrobe, and also shook his head. We all looked to Alice.

She lowered herself onto the chair at the dressing table, her mouth ajar. She reached out a shaking a hand toward me and I took it. "This is…so odd," she whispered.

Seth placed my wrap around her shoulders and crouched before her. "You're safe now."

"But I…I am awake," she said in a small voice. "And he remained. How can that be?"

"Events in Wonderland are escalating," I said, rather stupidly. Like Alice, I couldn't make head nor tail of what had just happened. "That's what he told us." I looked to Lincoln, hoping he had some answers, but he merely shook his head.

Seth took her hand in both of his. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Alice. Don't worry. You're among friends who'll protect you."

She attempted a smile. "Thank you, Seth. And Gus and Mr. Fitzroy too," she added. "I appreciate your assistance more than I can ever express. I only wish I knew what it all meant and what it has to do with me."

"As do I," Lincoln said, none too gently.

I scowled at him but he did not look repentant.

Alice's gaze met Lincoln's and something passed between them, something that worried me. He made no verbal acknowledgment, but I got the feeling they'd exchanged an understanding. He strode out of my bedroom, the muscles across his broad back and shoulders tense and his hands fisted at his sides.

I did not go after him. "Shall we go to the kitchen for hot chocolate?" I asked Alice.

She began to shake her head but changed her mind. "I'd like that."

"I'll make it for you," Seth said, rising.

"No. Please, just Charlie and me. Thank you, Seth. I do appreciate it."

He gave her a tight smile and left with Gus. I fetched another wrap and some slippers and we headed down the stairs together, stepping lightly so as not to wake the staff or Lady Vickers. We worked together to heat the milk and shave the chocolate into the saucepan, watching as it melted. Neither of us spoke until we sat down at the table, our backs to the warm stove and cups in hand.

"Tell me what happened," I said.

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I dreamed the rabbit watched me as I slept, talking to me, begging me to go with him. He was desperate, telling me he would be in awful trouble if I didn't go with him. Then he did something and said some words in a language I couldn't understand, and I woke up."

"Do you think it was a spell?"

She nodded.

Perhaps it was the same one spoken to open the Frakingham House portal. The key, Leisl called it.

"He looked pleased with himself, too," Alice went on. "As if he wasn't sure the spell would work."

"And then what?" I asked.

"I was utterly terrified. I got out of bed, pretending that I would go with him, but when he tried to take my hand, I ran out the door. He was on the other side of the bed so I managed to get a head start on him. I ran straight to your room. I'm sorry, Charlie, I shouldn't have, but your room is closest to mine and…" She choked back a sob.

"It's all right." I tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled gently. "I'm glad you came to me. Imagine if you'd gone to Seth. He would have taken it entirely the wrong way."

She managed a watery smile. "Mr. Fitzroy is furious with me."

"Don't mind him. I'll give him a stern talking to in the morning."

She shook her head. "No, don't. He's simply worried about you being hurt and…and so am I."

I sat back hard and the wooden slats on the chair dug into my spine. "You're not leaving, Alice."

"I'll stay until the wedding."

"You're not leaving. Where will you go?"

"Perhaps I'll have employment by then. As a governess or shop girl. Lady Vickers is helping me by asking her friends and supplying me with references."

"Don't get your hopes up. Her old friends may be inviting her back into the fold again, but they're still wary of her. Her reputation was shattered to pieces when she ran off with her footman, and it'll take some time to repair completely. I'm not sure they'll trust her opinion about a woman she hardly knows."

Alice sighed. "Then I'll find employment on my own. Whatever happens," she said, cutting off my argument, "I will stay for the wedding. I'll leave after that. I can't stay here forever, though. I can't bring danger to you any more than I already have."

"You can't take your rabbit and army with you elsewhere either! At the least, your dreams will frighten people, and at the most, they'll endanger the lives of others."

She cradled her cup of chocolate to her chest and stared down at the table surface. "I will stay for your wedding, Charlie."

I sighed. It would take more than my pleading to convince her that she was safest here with us. I'd have to enlist Seth's help, and perhaps even that of his mother. The real problem, however, was Lincoln.

I tried convincing him to talk to her the following morning, but he would not. "She can't stay," he said.

"I know you're worried about me, Lincoln, but I can take care of a rabbit. He may be quick but he's not violent."

"And an army?" He looked up from the letter he was reading at his desk.

"They haven't appeared here. Perhaps they've given up."

"Or perhaps they're waiting for the rabbit to fail." He set the letter down. "And anyway, it's not just you I'm afraid for. It's everyone in this house. You can defend yourself, but can Lady Vickers? And what of the staff? Doyle is aware of the goings on here, but the others aren't. Can you imagine the uproar if the rabbit goes into their rooms by accident one night?"

I perched on the edge of his desk and crossed my arms. He had a valid point, but I wasn't going to admit it. "If she leaves, where will she go? We can protect her here, and those who live and work at Lichfield. But if she goes elsewhere, we cannot."

He frowned but did not offer a counter-argument. Yet I didn't feel as though I had won. He picked up the letter that had arrived over breakfast and changed the subject. "This is from the Prince of Wales. I wrote to him yesterday, apprising him of what we'd learned, including Leonora Ballantine's statement that Swinburn is the pack leader."

"He's still refusing to believe it," I said, scanning the letter. "He wants proof of a connection between Franklin and Swinburn. Why Franklin?"

"Because like me, he suspects Franklin is Protheroe's killer. He fits the description of the naked witness who was near the scene, according to my Scotland Yard sources."

"But he did not act alone," I finished for him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Almost. I've seen no evidence that he's in love with Leonora and acted out of jealousy. If he were in love with her, he should have killed Eddy, too."

I agreed. I'd also seen no evidence in Leonora's manner that Franklin meant anything more to her than a friend. "So we think he was directed by Swinburn but the Prince of Wales doesn't believe his friend capable of murder."

"Nor can he believe that his friend is a shape changer." He pointed to a line near the end of the page. "He thinks the Ballantines and others are setting him up."

"He gives no reason for believing that."

"No."

"We need to know for certain." I handed back the letter. "So how do we get proof of a connection between Franklin and Swinburn?"

"We force a confession from Franklin."

"Force?" I asked, carefully.

"Perhaps I should have said scare a confession out of him."

"Scare?" It still sounded as if violence would be involved. "How will you do that?"

"Not me, you. You're going to summon the dead and bring all manner of hell down on him."