Free Read Novels Online Home

Veiled in Moonlight (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 8) by C.J. Archer (4)

Chapter 4

I pushed past Doyle when he opened the front door. "Gus! Seth!" My shout echoed around the broad entrance hall and spiraled up the stairwell.

They appeared moments later. "What is it?" Seth called down.

Cook approached from the rear of the house, a large carving knife in hand. "Charlie?"

"It's Lincoln," I said. "He's chasing someone along Hampstead Lane. We must help him."

"Pistols." Seth raced down the stairs and disappeared in the direction of the gun room.

A wide-eyed maid blinked after him until Doyle ordered her to hurry along. Seth returned moments later, loading a pistol, another tucked under his arm. He handed one to Gus, and they headed outside. Cook followed. He may not have a gun but he could throw a carving knife with precision.

I went to follow but stopped at the top of the steps. "Wait! There he is!"

Lincoln jogged along the drive at an easy pace. I let out a pent-up breath.

Alice looped her arm through mine, offering comfort without needing to say anything. Seth, Gus and Cook went to meet Lincoln, but I could see that he offered no answers to their questions.

"Well?" I asked when he reached me.

"Will I be met with this kind of welcoming party every time I return home?" he asked.

"Save your jokes for when I'm not so worried."

He clasped my hand and kissed it gently then led me inside. "My study," he said simply. "Immediately."

Whether he intended all of us to go wasn't clear. It would seem we all intended to hear what he had to say, however, including Cook. Seth and Gus handed their weapons to Doyle and asked him to disarm them before storing them safely, but Cook kept his knife with him. He rarely let anyone touch his knives. I was only allowed to handle them during throwing practice.

We filed into Lincoln's study and sitting room. Alice and I sat, but the men remained standing.

"Sorry to state the obvious, but you didn't catch him," Seth said from where he lounged against the door, arms crossed.

"I did not." Lincoln undid his tie and the top button of his shirt. He didn't look as if he'd sprinted down Hampstead Lane then jogged home. He looked as deliciously ruffled as always but not out of breath. "He had too much of a start on me."

"He wore red and gold livery," Alice told the others.

"What?" Seth exploded, pushing off from the door.

Gus rubbed his jaw. "One of the queen's men?"

"Or the prince's," Seth added, shaking his head. "Let's go to the palace and confront him now."

"You be mad," Cook said. "You can't just go in. You got to be invited."

"Then let's knock until we're invited in, shall we?"

"I agree with Seth," Gus said. "We have to confront him. Could you write and ask to be seen, Fitzroy?"

Lincoln held up his hand and the men quieted. "It was most likely not a royal footman."

"But Alice said—"

"Alice said he wore royal livery, not that he was from the royal household. If the queen or prince sent someone to spy on me, they would not have dressed them in such distinctive clothing."

"Oh!" I said, realization dawning. "You think someone dressed in royal livery to make it look like the royal family are spying on you."

Lincoln nodded.

"Someone's trying to blame the queen?" Alice asked. "But why?"

"It could be as simple as trying to throw suspicion onto anyone, and the royal angle was a convenient one, or it could be a more specific reason."

Cook grunted. "Don't seem too convenient to get hold of livery. Wager you can't buy it from the rag man."

"King could have stolen it from the livery room at the palace while impersonating a servant," Lincoln said. "It wouldn't have been difficult for him. Everyone would assume the servant was getting it repaired or cleaned."

"So he gave the uniform to someone else before he died," I said. "Then it's likely he wasn't working alone."

Lincoln nodded. "Perhaps he intended to use it himself. It's possible he did on one of his visits to the palace and we don't know it. It seems clear, however, that you're right, Charlie, and he passed the uniform on to someone else before his death."

"Whoever it was," I said, "I wonder why he was following us."

"Something to do with the murder?" Seth suggested. "Perhaps Lincoln interrogating Gawler has caught someone's attention."

I shivered. "By someone, you mean the killer."

Lincoln came to stand beside me and rested a hand on my shoulder. I touched it and smiled wanly up at him. He did not smile back.

"Seems likely," Gus said. "Are you going to visit Gawler again?"

"Perhaps." Lincoln's answers were far too evasive for my liking.

"If you do, you're taking someone with you," I told him.

"Aye," Gus chimed in. "We'll bring pistols."

"Perhaps you need a necromancer too. One who can call on the dead. if necessary."

"Steady on," Seth said. "No need to go in with explosives when guns will do."

"Speak for yourself," Gus shot back. "Explosives sound like a good idea to me."

Seth wagged a finger at Gus. "And you think this man a fitting father-figure to walk you down the aisle, Charlie."

"I'm going to request an audience with the queen," Lincoln announced. At our stares, he added, "She spoke to King alone before he died. If he didn't outright tell her what he wanted—or what his employer wanted—in that meeting, then he probably hinted at it."

"You going to interrogate the queen?" Cook smirked. "Don't get yourself hanged for treason."

"I'll be subtle."

Seth and Gus both snorted a laugh.

"Charlie will do most of the talking." Lincoln removed his hand from my shoulder and returned to his desk. "That's all, for now. I'll let you know what I decide to do when I've thought it through."

The others left; even Alice, who I thought might have some questions for him about the information that had arisen from our meeting with Leisl. I overheard Seth asking her how it went as I shut the door on them.

"You always assume my dismissal doesn't mean you," Lincoln said, not looking at me. He pulled a piece of paper and the inkstand toward him. "Why am I not surprised?"

I rested my hands on his shoulders and massaged. The tension eased and he tipped his head back to peer up at me.

"Go on," he said. "Ask me your questions so we can get on with it."

"Get on with what?"

"Me enjoying your company. Perhaps a kiss."

I ran my fingers through his hair. "I thought you were worried about kissing me in private."

His eyelids fluttered closed. "I'm still undecided on that matter."

"Well, kisses will depend on your answers, so think carefully before speaking."

"I'm listening," he murmured.

I stopped touching him, and he opened his eyes. I sat on a chair, keeping my distance. For now. "Why didn't you tell me about the portal at Frakingham House before?"

"What makes you think it's there?"

"It wasn't difficult to work out. You said you wanted to speak to Jack Langley about Alice because you had an inkling. It wasn't an inkling though, was it? You already knew he had information."

He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. It was a surprisingly relaxed position considering the pressure he was under to find not only the killer, but a solution to Alice's problem. "I guessed. I knew immediately upon arriving at Frakingham that something was different about it. I felt…a disturbance in some ruins on the grounds. The air felt different there. I questioned Langley, and he gave me the answers which I mentioned today."

"About the spell to open the portal?"

He nodded. "He refused to tell me more. It wasn't enough to help Alice, and I didn't want to get her hopes up, or yours, by mentioning it."

"We gave you no choice," I said heavily. "I am sorry, but you should have told me, Lincoln."

"She's your friend, and I know you're worried about her. I didn't want to upset you."

I sighed. His heart was in the right place, but he still didn't quite understand. "You and I are partners in everything now, and that means I share your burdens. You no longer need to bear them alone. I am strong enough."

"I know. So now do I get a kiss?"

I fought back my smile and my impulse to take his hand. "Not yet. I have a question about Harriet. Is she a demon?"

His moment's hesitation was the only indication that he was surprised I'd reached that conclusion. "In my opinion, yes. From what information I could read, and the little I managed to extract from Langley, she certainly resembles one, as do King, Gawler and the others. Shape shifters are a type of demon, but there are other types too. They seem to be the most common form of demon here on our realm, however, which suggests to me that their realm is closest to ours."

"Why have they come here?"

"I don't know."

"How many are there?"

"I don't know that, either. I do think Langley has grossly underestimated their number, however. He didn't seem to think them a problem anymore, and he also seemed to think the only portal is on his property, where he can keep an eye on it. Hence his reluctance to share too much information with me."

"He deems it unnecessary," I finished for him.

He nodded. "Any more questions?"

"Just one."

He sighed. "It had better be a good kiss."

"You will have earned it if you answer this one honestly. I want to know how you feel after spending time with your mother today and meeting your sister."

He breathed deeply and let it out slowly. "I don't know what I feel."

"You looked tense. Were you tense?"

"I wasn't relaxed."

"What did you think of the house?"

"It was tidy with an outward appearance of Englishness, but once inside I could see Leisl's Romany influence."

"What did you think of Eva?" I asked.

"She seems intelligent, and she's good to her mother."

I didn't correct his use of “her” mother instead of “our.” He wasn't ready for that. "She seems like someone I'd like to get to know better," I said. "Would you like that, too?"

He hesitated. "If it's what you want then it can be arranged."

I rolled my eyes but did not say anything. It had been enough that he'd gone to the house. Lincoln needed time to adjust to new people in his life. I knew that all too well.

I stood and approached him. He pulled his feet in and blinked up at me. The boyish look almost undid me. I cupped his jaw with one hand and leaned on the arm of his chair with the other. "Those were good answers," I murmured. "Now, for your reward."

His eyelids shuttered. "I feel manipulated."

I chuckled. "You might as well get used to it." I touched my lips gently to his. They quivered with his restraint. They were so warm and impossibly soft for such a hard man.

I deepened the kiss, or perhaps he did, but not too much. Not beyond the point of no return. It wasn't a kiss filled with unbridled passion, but it connected us. It was filled with my love for him and his love for me, and with our respect and understanding. No ring on my finger could do more.

When I finally drew back and released him, my body felt both tingly with desire and languid with contentment. I watched him as his eyes slowly opened. I'd never seen such a look of peace on his face.

He stroked his thumb along my jaw. "You can manipulate me any time you like, Charlie."

* * *

Lady Vickers was building up to something. I couldn't quite tell what, but I suspected it had something to do with Alice, because she requested Alice's presence as we ate a light luncheon together in the parlor overlooking the garden.

"Just we ladies," Lady Vickers said, nibbling on cold chicken left over from dinner. "We can discuss wedding arrangements. Tell us, Charlie, have you finalized your guest list?"

"Almost," I said.

"Will Lord Underwood be on it?"

"Underwood! I doubt it. I don't know if I even want Lady Harcourt there."

"Perhaps you ought to invite him here again, without her. You might find you like him."

I stared at her. Alice stared at her. One of us made an odd sound that Lady Vickers took as a request to go on.

"He's very well connected, not to mention he's a marquess. Marquesses aren't like earls, you know. You can't find one on every corner. Unmarried ones are even rarer."

Ah. Now I understood the direction of her thoughts. I eyed Alice to see if she did too, but she was concentrating on buttering a slice of bread.

"It's perfectly acceptable for you to invite him and not Lady Harcourt," Lady Vickers went on. "Mr. Fitzroy should be present, but it's not entirely necessary. This is for Alice's sake, after all."

Alice's head snapped up. "Mine?"

"Yes, dear, of course." Lady Vickers looked at her as if she were a simpleton. "Surely you weren't blind to his interest in you. It was quite obvious to everyone else, including Julia. She was rather put out, wouldn't you say, Charlie?" A small smile touched her lips. "Quite put out."

If she'd been discussing anyone other than Lady Harcourt, I would have thought Lady Vickers cruel. But it was difficult to muster sympathy for the woman who'd tried to keep Lincoln and me apart.

"I…I'm not interested in Lord Underwood," Alice said.

Lady Vickers set down her fork and laid a hand on Alice's arm. "I know he's a lot older than you, but you ought to consider him."

"It's not just his age." Alice appealed to me, but I merely urged her with a nod. "He's rather vacuous."

Lady Vickers recoiled. "Nonsense. He's a marquess!"

"His conversation wasn't all that interesting. I found him a little irritating, to be honest."

"Goodness, child, if we dismissed men because we found them irritating, the pool of eligible ones would shrink dramatically. Surely you can overlook that and find something worthwhile in him." She searched Alice's face. "Can't you?"

"I don't think so."

Lady Vickers plucked up her fork and stabbed a large piece of chicken. "You should be pleased that such an elevated man took notice of you. I certainly would have been flattered at your age."

"Then why don't you court him?" Alice threw her napkin on the table and stormed out of the room, her bustle bobbing with her purposeful strides.

Lady Vickers half-rose, but I caught her arm and she sat down again. She concentrated on shredding her chicken but did not eat it.

"Lady V, you offer me so much good advice," I said. "Will you allow me to offer you some?"

She sighed but did not tell me to go away.

"Don't interfere. The more you try to keep Alice and Seth apart, the more Seth will rebel. It only makes him want to win her over even more."

"He is rather contrary towards me." She sighed again. "He's such a fool when it comes to women. He falls in love too easily. He has fancied himself in love with half the women of London, of all different classes. Alice is merely his latest infatuation, and I don't want either of them to make a mistake then regret it. She's not the sort of girl he can discard like the others."

"It's kind of you to have her wellbeing at heart."

"And Seth must marry an heiress." She'd said it many times, but this time there was no vehemence in the statement. It was as if she were merely repeating the words out of habit.

I did not remind her that Seth had declared he would marry for love, not fortune. Unlike his mother, he didn't believe his family needed money to restore its good name. He'd worked hard to pay off his late father's debts when she'd run away with her new husband, but beyond that, he had no ambition. He was an honorable man. Perhaps the most honorable one I'd met.

* * *

We received a note from the palace the following day in reply to Lincoln's letter asking for an audience with the queen. Our presence was requested that afternoon.

Buckingham Palace awed me every time I saw it, inside and out. It wasn't simply the scale of it—although it was enormous—or the richly appointed rooms, but the busyness. Courtiers mingled in groups or strolled singly through the rooms. I couldn't discern why they were there at all. Were they friends of the queen's? Family? Were they awaiting an audience or did they live there? Dozens upon dozens of footmen stood around like statues, awaiting orders or hurrying silently past. And those were just the servants I saw. There would be many more working out of sight. No wonder it had been so easy for King to get in.

We were led to a different part of the palace than on our last visit. Open windows let in light and fresh air, and they offered beautiful views to the gardens. This wing wasn't like the queen's private rooms, where gloom and mustiness reigned. The further we walked, the more I realized we were again venturing into a private area. There were fewer people about and it was quieter. One of the queen's ladies usually escorted us to the monarch's rooms on previous visits, but this time it was a footman.

He paused in an open doorway and bowed. "Mr. Fitzroy and Miss Holloway," he announced to the Prince of Wales and another gentleman seated in what appeared to be a large office. The ornately carved desk took pride of place in the center of the room, with all the other furniture arranged to draw one's eye to it. The paintings on the walls depicted hunting scenes, and the burgundy and green color scheme of the furnishings unmistakably marked this as a gentleman's room.

I curtseyed and Lincoln gave a perfunctory bow. I could feel the uncertainty vibrating off him. He'd not expected to see his father again. "I was led to believe the queen requested my presence," Lincoln said carefully. "Is she here?"

"She's away." The Prince of Wales nodded at the footman, who exited and shut the door. "You're right, Fitzroy, I did lead you to believe that Her Majesty responded to your missive. I wasn't sure you would come if you knew you would be meeting me. I hope you're not disappointed, and perhaps I can help you anyway. May I introduce you to my brother, His Royal Highness Prince Alfred, the Duke of Edinburgh." It was smoothly done, not allowing Lincoln any cause to protest. There was nothing to do but greet both men cordially.

"Your Highness," Lincoln said stiffly to the gentleman who looked very much like his older brother. They both bore neatly trimmed greying beards, their slick hair parted severely down the middle. Deep-set eyes, so much like their mother's, were surrounded by puffy, loose skin, a sure sign of late nights and the excesses of a comfortable life.

I curtseyed again as the Prince of Wales informed his brother that I was Lincoln's fiancée.

"I read the announcement in the newspapers," the Prince of Wales said.

"Just like everyone else, eh?" The Duke of Edinburgh grunted in what I supposed was a laugh. He pushed himself out of the deep leather armchair and strolled up to us, hands behind his back. He ignored me and inspected Lincoln like he was a thoroughbred in a stable. "So this is he?"

My breath caught. He knew. His older brother must have told him that Lincoln was his illegitimate son. How many others knew? I watched Lincoln out of the corner of my eye, but he remained unmoved. He watched the duke and, when the duke looked up to study Lincoln's face again, he was startled. He backed away.

"Fine fellow, isn't he?" The Prince of Wales said with a puff of his chest. "Handsome, strong, clever too."

"Hmmm." The duke eased himself into his chair and reached for a silver cigar case. "Pity."

Pity that Lincoln was everything a man could want in a son and yet he could not be acknowledged? Perhaps. It was impossible to tell his meaning from that one word.

"Has he met your other children?" the duke asked his brother.

"Of course not," the Prince of Wales snapped. "Why would he?"

"If Mr. Fitzroy is an investigator, he could look into that Cleveland Street incident and find out what really happened." The duke gave a lazy shrug. "Just a thought."

The prince's face colored. "He's not that sort of investigator, and the Ministry of Curiosities is not that kind of department."

I recalled the Cleveland Street incident. It had been quite a scandal. Just after I settled in at Lichfield Towers, the newspapers had reported on a police raid at a house in Cleveland Street after an investigation revealed it to be a brothel catering for gentlemen wanting liaisons with other men. That had been shocking enough, but even worse, Seth had recently heard a rumor that the Prince of Wales's eldest son had been a customer at the brothel. As second in line to the throne, after his father, the rumor could damage the royal family's reputation.

The only reason I could think why the duke would bring up the subject in our presence was to rile the Prince of Wales and perhaps embarrass him in front of his very masculine yet illegitimate son—the son the Prince of Wales wished had been his legitimate one and his heir.

If Lincoln thought the same, he gave no indication. He hardly batted an eyelid. If he'd been stiff when he'd met Leisl and Eva then he was positively frozen now. I wished I could touch his hand to offer support, but he might not appreciate the gesture. He had, however, brought me here for one thing. To talk. That I could do.

"Sir," I said to the Prince of Wales, "may we speak freely?"

"You may," he said. "My brother knows everything about the break-in and that fellow King. It took some convincing but he believed me in the end. And, as you can probably tell, he knows everything about my private business, too. Her Majesty keeps me informed, and I keep my brother informed, as a matter of insurance, you see."

In case something happened to the reigning monarch, I supposed, although I failed to see why it was necessary for the Duke of Edinburgh to know that his brother's eldest child had been born on the wrong side of the blanket. Perhaps, like most people, royals needed someone to confide in too, and brothers naturally turned to one another.

"We requested an audience with the queen because she spoke to King in private that day he entered the palace under the guise of your father," I said. "We need to know what he said to her."

"Why?" the Prince of Wales asked.

"It's likely someone was paying him. We want to know who."

"There's been a murder linked to King," Lincoln added. "And someone dressed in royal livery is following us."

The Prince of Wales's mouth worked soundlessly before he managed to speak. "Good lord. Not again."

The duke pointed his unlit cigar at Lincoln. "Are you accusing our staff of spying on you? Or of my brother ordering you be followed?"

"That's not what he's suggesting," the prince chided.

"Isn't he?" The duke struck a match. "Sounds like it to me."

"That's because you're not listening, Affie."

His brother shook the match to extinguish it. "Someone dressed in royal livery can only mean one thing," he mumbled around the fat cigar.

Lincoln held up a hand for silence, a bold move considering whom he addressed. Both men quieted, but the duke seemed more startled at being silenced by a nobody than actually acquiescent.

"We don't think the spy received his orders from the palace," Lincoln clarified. "It's likely King stole the uniform and passed it on to someone else before his death. That's why we'd like to know whom he worked for, and to know that we must speak with Her Majesty. She's the only one who can shed light on what King wanted from her."

"She told me he said nothing of importance," the Prince of Wales said.

"I'd like to ask her again."

The duke unplugged the cigar from his mouth. "Are you calling your queen a liar?"

Lincoln let the question go unanswered. The silence thinned and stretched with the duke glaring at Lincoln and the prince looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"I'll write to her," the Prince of Wales said quickly. "I'll emphasize the importance of her being open with us for the sake of the realm. That ought to convince her."

"The realm always comes first," the duke muttered, returning the cigar to his mouth and inhaling deeply.

"Please inform me when you have her reply." Lincoln bowed and held his hand out to me, steadying me as I hurriedly curtsied. He was in a rush to get away.

This time, I couldn't blame him. While I didn't mind the Prince of Wales, I found the duke to be condescending and manipulative. If the brothers actually liked one another, it was impossible to tell from that meeting.

* * *

Lincoln would not be drawn on his opinion of either of the royals, no matter how many times I asked on the journey home. I stopped asking when he narrowed his gaze at me on my fourth attempt. I spent most of the rest of the way thinking up subtler questions while he spent it looking out the window.

"Did anyone follow you?" Seth asked when we found him and Gus playing croquet with Alice on the lawn.

"Only to the palace," Lincoln said.

I gasped. "I didn't see anyone."

"He was there," was all Lincoln said.

With Gus and Seth's backs to her, Alice took the opportunity to nudge the croquet ball with her toe. She winked at me. I tried not to smile.

"Now what?" Gus asked.

Alice placed her foot on the ball and rolled it forward.

"Now we return to what we do know," Lincoln said.

Gus and Seth looked to me. I shrugged. "What do we know?" I asked.

"That there is a dead man lying in a mortuary, due to be buried soon. Everything else is supposition, including the witness being a shifter."

"Do we even know the victim's name?" I asked, watching Alice move the ball once again.

"The newspapers haven't reported it," he said. "It's likely it has been suppressed."

"Because it was someone of consequence," Seth muttered, nodding. "How terrible."

Gus swung his croquet mallet in an upward arc and rested the handle on his shoulder. "Just as terrible if it was a factory hand, or hackney driver, or baker."

"I didn't mean that it wasn't," Seth said.

"You implied it."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Charlie, if you choose him over me to walk on your left, what will people think?"

"That she got sense and good taste in her choice of friends." Gus turned back to Alice. He frowned at the ball, looked up at her, and the frown deepened.

She smiled sweetly, settled her stance, and swung the mallet. The ball rolled neatly through the hoop.

Seth applauded. "Well done. Good shot."

Gus thrust one hand on his hip. "But she—"

Seth slapped Gus's back, wrapping his hand around the base of Gus's neck. From Gus's wince, I suspected Seth was squeezing him hard. With a firm shake and an innocent smile for Alice, Seth let him go and took his shot. He missed.

"Ah well. I'm having a run of bad luck today." He trotted off in the direction of the ball.

Gus sighed. "I hate this game. Next time he complains about having nothing to do, I'm going to challenge him to a duel. Bit of blood sport'll liven up the day, and he'll get cut to ribbons if he don't play proper." He trudged after Seth.

"You did speak to Seth, didn't you?" Alice asked me. "About his behavior?"

I nodded. "There's been no change?"

"No. He's still sickeningly sweet and complicit. I can't bear it."

"Then I am at my wit's end," I said. "Nothing I do makes him want to be himself around you. I am sorry, Alice."

"Never mind." She put her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun as she watched the men pull the hoops out of the lawn. "It simply isn't meant to be between us."

I decided not to tell Seth that. He would be devastated. Besides, I wasn't entirely sure it was hopeless. Once she got to know him, she would fall in love with him. She just needed to get to know him. The real him.

I set off after Lincoln, who'd headed back to the house. "Wait!" I called out, and he stopped near the terrace at the back of the house. He offered me his arm and I took it. "We didn't finish the discussion about the victim. You said we have to start there. Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

"Yes."

"You want me to raise his spirit?"

"After we find out his name. We'll go tonight."

If a spirit had crossed over to the otherworld for their afterlife, I needed their full name to summon them back. The newspaper hadn't reported it in the article about the murder, and there'd been no more articles since.

I groaned. "You're going to break into the police station, aren't you?" I didn't like the thought of Lincoln doing that, even though we'd both done it before.

"No. I'm going to bribe my contact at Scotland Yard. The breaking-in part will be at the mortuary tonight."

"You want to see the body? Why not just the spirit?"

"Because if the victim knows who killed him, we can confront the murderer straight away and end this. I expect a more dramatic and honest result if the murderer is accused by the man he killed."

"You have quite a unique way of getting results, Lincoln. Effective but unique."

"Will you be all right? I doubt it will be a pleasant sight, considering he was mauled."

"I've seen enough death to not let it affect me." It was a lie, but I didn't think he detected it. "We'll all go," I said. "Seth and Gus, too."

We climbed the stairs and entered the house through the doors leading to the morning room. He made to continue on, but I caught his hand.

"You haven't spoken much since leaving the palace," I said.

"There's nothing to say."

"Are you surprised the prince told his brother about you?"

He considered this a moment and then nodded. "I thought it would be a secret he'd take to his grave. When he found out who I was, he seemed…shocked."

"But he also seemed to accept it quickly after the shock faded."

"He didn't tell the queen."

"Grown men probably don't confide in their mothers very much, even if she does rule the country."

His jaw relaxed a little. "I am surprised he told anyone at all."

"It just shows that he's not ashamed of you, Lincoln. Quite the opposite, I think."

"If it became public, the newspapers would be relentless," he went on.

"His brother is hardly likely to tattle. Imagine the things they must know about each other." I squared up to him and clasped his arms. "Besides, it seems to be common knowledge that your father isn't exactly honorable when it comes to his marriage vows, so a by-blow should surprise no one. That had better not be an inherited trait, by the way."

He pressed his forehead to mine and clasped my hands. "I can assure you, it's not."

"I know," I said gently, and I meant it.

* * *

Lincoln's contact at Scotland Yard was a corrupt detective whose career depended upon Lincoln not divulging the man's connection to a smuggling ring operating from the docks. By ten o'clock, he sent Lincoln a message with a name on it: Roderick Oswald Protheroe.

We waited until midnight then drove to the Westminster mortuary with Seth and Gus sharing the coachman's seat. The insipid light from a streetlamp failed to penetrate the dense darkness outside the mortuary building, and with the coach's lamps covered, we could not easily be seen.

Lincoln shuttered his lantern before alighting. The horses shifted, their clanking bridles the only sound in the eerie quiet. Seth climbed down and soothed them with pats and whispers. Perhaps they could sense the death beyond the brick walls.

It unnerved me too.

I held the lantern, the shutter slightly ajar, as Lincoln used his tools to unlock the front door. Two clicks had it swinging open with a groan of hinges. The horses moved again and I glanced back. The coach had stopped in the darkest part of the street, and only its silhouette was visible.

Lincoln pushed open the door just as footsteps sounded on the pavement to the right. A constable emerged through the fog like an apparition, another figure behind him. Lincoln grabbed my hand and pushed me inside.

Too late. We were seen.

"Halt!" a voice barked. "Who goes there?"

"They went in," the other policeman said. "Come on. We got 'em cornered."

Search

Search

Friend:

Popular Free Online Books

Read books online free novels

Hot Authors

Sam Crescent, Zoe Chant, Mia Madison, Flora Ferrari, Alexa Riley, Lexy Timms, Claire Adams, Sophie Stern, Amy Brent, Elizabeth Lennox, Leslie North, Frankie Love, Madison Faye, Jenika Snow, C.M. Steele, Michelle Love, Jordan Silver, Mia Ford, Kathi S. Barton, Delilah Devlin, Bella Forrest, Zoey Parker, Piper Davenport, Penny Wylder, Dale Mayer,

Random Novels

Not About That Life (Feeling Some Type of Way Book 3) by Vera Roberts

Reunion with Benefits by Helenkay Dimon

Slouch Witch (The Lazy Girl's Guide To Magic Book 1) by Helen Harper

Her Rogue Dragon: Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance (Dragons of Giresun Book 5) by Suzanne Roslyn

Tailor Made (69th St. Bad Boys Book 7) by Hart, Rye

Bound in Eternity: Paranormal BBW Shapeshifter Dragon Romance (Drachen Mates Book 3) by Milly Taiden

Grayson: Wordsmith Chronicles Book 3 by Christopher Harlan

Naughty Little Thief by Red Garnier

Uncaged (Havoc MC Book 1) by L.A. Boles

The Alpha Wolf's Mate: Bad Alpha Dads (The Necklace Chronicles Book 4) by R. E. Butler

Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight Book 2) by Taryn Quinn

Love at First flight by Marie Force

by Jasmine Walt, Emma Stark

Whiskey Burning (Iron Fury MC Book 1) by Bella Jewel

Untouched (One Fairy Tale Wedding, #2) by Noelle Adams

Breaking Free (The Den Boys Book 3) by A.T. Brennan

Rated Arr: An MPREG Romance (Special Delivery Book 1) by Troy Hunter, Noah Harris

Bad Idea by Nicole French

Fighting for Everything: A Warrior Fight Club Novel by Laura Kaye

The Devil's Tattoo: A Rock Star Romance by Amity Cross