From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(25)

"I may have, but so would you if you had to sit in a room and sew all day. I was more in danger from the boredom than anything Alice could dream up."

Doyle wiped his bowl with his bread. "Was it wise to leave her there?"

"I don't know. I hope so. Now that she knows what makes her dreams come to life, she should be able to control it."

They fell silent. Perhaps, like me, they were considering the horrors that could befall Alice and the others if she didn't keep calm. I was beginning to wish I'd brought her back to Lichfield, but it was much too dangerous for her at the moment with the killer not yet caught.

"So Fitzroy collected you, even though you weren't in danger by the time he arrived," Seth said. "That's quite a change of heart. Last time I saw him, he was as bloody-minded as ever. I was ready to thump him when he wouldn't tell us where you went."

"Why didn't you?" Gus growled. "Because he would have pummeled you into the ground, may be?"

Seth merely grunted.

"So you don't know why he changed his mind?" I asked.

"He missed you," Cook said with shrug.

"Or needed you," Gus added.

"Same thing," Seth said.

"No, it ain't," both Gus and Cook said.

"Whatever his reasons, thank God you're back." Doyle's conviction surprised me. I thought that he would have cared the least for my return, not knowing me particularly well. "He was…difficult in your absence. Perhaps that will change now."

"Difficult how?"

"He was volatile, erratic. He acted dangerously, on occasion, without a care for his own wellbeing."

He must have been referring to Lincoln's cut feet. Did he think Lincoln had broken the glass himself, then walked over the shards on purpose?

"He were like he used to be," Gus added. "Before you came to live here, Charlie."

I swallowed heavily. Lincoln never cared much for the lives of others, hence the moniker of Death the men had given him. I liked to think he'd changed, that his feelings for me had helped re-shape him, but perhaps I'd been a fool to hope. The more I thought about it, the more I suspected that was the case. Lincoln had stopped pretending in my absence, and reverted back to his true self without the blinkers of love keeping him on the straight path. The blinkers had come off me too, so I shouldn't judge him too harshly.

I stood and collected the bowls. When I reached Seth, he caught my wrist and inspected my hand. "Where's your engagement ring?"

"I gave it back to him."

Someone sucked in a breath. Seth let me go with a frown. "Are you mad? Why would you end it? Don't you want to be mistress of all this? Don't you want to be his wife anymore?"

"I…I no longer know what I want. My future is uncertain. I do know that things are different between Lincoln and me now. They have to be. We cannot go on as we were. I'd be a fool to pretend all is well again."

"You don't have to pretend, but you can talk to him, tell him how you feel."

"I told him on the journey back. Believe me, Seth, if he didn't understand how I felt after that, then he truly does lack empathy."

His frown deepened. "He didn't try to talk you around?"

"Why would he?"

"He fetched you back, Charlie. Doesn't that say something? Doesn't that imply he missed you and still loves you?"

"If he wanted to resume our relationship, he would have said as much when I tried to hand back the ring. He has been cool to me."

"Cool or wary? Perhaps he's trying to gauge your feelings first before he recommits."

I picked up his bowl and headed into the scullery. Seth may be right, but it didn't matter. Lincoln had betrayed me and I would not forgive him for it. Without forgiveness there could be no returning to what we had.

"You should have sold the ring," Gus called out. "A stone like that would fetch a pretty sum. Ow! What was that for?" he snapped.

"For being an fool," Seth growled.

"I'll do the dishes," Doyle said. I hadn't realized he'd followed me into the scullery. "You should take care of your hand."

I curled my fingers up into a fist to hide the welt still visible there. "You saw."

"A good butler sees everything. Including how tired his mistress looks."

I gave him a weak smile. "I'd rather be your friend. But thank you, Doyle. I think I'll retire early. It's been a long day. A good day, but a long one."

He picked up an empty pail by the door. "Everyone is glad you're back, Charlie. Everyone."



Lincoln requested my presence for a meeting in the library after breakfast, along with Seth and Gus. I had expected him to be out, but he claimed that all the London-based supernaturals had now been warned and it was up to them whether they heeded his warning or not.

"It's time to set our minds to catching the murderer," he said.

Our minds, not his alone. It was a good sign that he wanted all of us involved in the endeavor. I think.

"How?" Seth asked. His cuts didn't look so bad after cleaning away the blood, but his mother had still fussed over his "roughened" appearance at breakfast. She'd made him wrap bandages soaked in a foul-smelling liquid around his bruised knuckles. The bandages were now steaming in the fireplace where he'd thrown them. "The only way I can see to move forward is to question Thomas Rampling." Seth gave me a dark look.