From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(28)

"He was tying up loose ends," Lincoln said. "Just in case. Once we found Daley, he must have been worried that we'd find a thread linking Daley to him."

"Is Daley still alive?" I asked. Others who'd been linked to the murders had died in police custody after we discovered their guilt.

"As far as I am aware," Lincoln said, "but I haven't been near the police station recently."

"No great loss if he's dead," Gus muttered. "The man were a monster, Charlie. You don't want to meet the likes of him in a dark alley."

I'd met men who prayed on the vulnerable in my time living on the streets. They were capable of the utmost cruelties, although thankfully I'd been spared the worst. I quickly learned to identify the type and kept well away from them. Nevertheless, Gus's words sent a shiver down my spine.

"Rampling," Lincoln said to the spirit, "when did you follow your employer's conveyance?"

"A month or more ago."

"Can you be more specific?" I pressed.

Rampling's spirit shimmered. "I don't recall the date, but it were two days before Daley made his first kill."

"Two days before Drinkwater's death," I told Lincoln.

"The sixteenth of November," Lincoln said.

"Can I go?" Rampling asked.

"He wants to leave," I said to Lincoln. "Do you have any more questions for him?"

"Just one," Lincoln said. "Tell me about your murder."

"He sent me a note to meet him at the river," Rampling said. "I recognized his handwriting. I waited but he didn't come. I was about to leave when something hit the back of my head. I remember falling into the water. After that, nothing."

I repeated this for Lincoln. He gave a single nod. "That's all. He may leave."

"Thank you," I said to the spirit. "You've been most helpful. I wish you peace in your afterlife. You may go."

The mist dispersed and floated away. I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my forehead. While it didn't tax me to speak with spirits, I nevertheless found it upsetting if they'd died before reaching old age. They were so real to me and yet they were gone from this world. Sometimes, it was hard to fathom.

"Does Gillingham belong to that club?" Gus asked.

Lincoln nodded. "As does Eastbrooke, Marchbank, Andrew Buchanan and almost every aristocrat in London. I'm a member."

"I used to be," Seth said, "when I could afford the fee. It was a terribly dull place without women."

"We'll both attend today," Lincoln said. "Gus will drive us."

"How will we find this fellow? It's a needle in a haystack situation."

"By sifting through the hay. Prepare the horses," Lincoln said to Gus. "We'll leave shortly."

Gus left with Seth behind him. I stood to go too.

"A moment, Charlie." Lincoln waited until the men were out of sight before suddenly taking my hand. He turned it palm up, revealing the welt from Mrs. Denk's cane. So he'd noticed.

His thumb gently stroked alongside the wound. A lump welled in my throat at the unexpected tenderness. Damnation. Why couldn't I remain indifferent?

I snatched my hand away.





Chapter 7





"How did you get that?" Lincoln asked with a nod at my hand.

"From a run-in with the headmistress. Don't concern yourself."

"And if I want to concern myself with your wellbeing?" he asked quietly.

"Why now?" I bit back. "You didn't two weeks ago."

"I thought you'd be well cared for at the school. If I'd known the headmistress did that to you, I would have collected you sooner."

"Forgive me for not writing, then. I didn't think my letters would be welcome." I picked up my skirts and marched for the door.

I didn't realize Lincoln had followed until he grasped my arm. He spun me round and pulled me close. Not so close that our bodies touched, but near enough that I felt his warmth and saw his pupils dilate.

I steeled myself for a confrontation, but he quickly let me go and stepped back. "You're right. Letters wouldn't have been welcome. I wouldn't have read them."

His honesty stung, even though I appreciated it. Lincoln had never been one for spouting sweet yet false words to get his way with me. It was one of the things I'd liked about him.

"I didn't want to be reminded of you," he said. "I avoided everything here that I associate with you."

I crossed my arms, determined to ward off his words and any kindness he might show me now. I refused to be affected by them. "How unfortunate that your seer's sense didn't sever when I left, or you might have succeeded in never thinking about me again."

"I didn't succeed before I sensed your life was in danger either. It seems I don't need to be near the things I associate with you to think of you."

I swallowed heavily again. This conversation wasn't going at all as I expected. "That passes in time, so I'm told."

"I was told the same thing."

I huffed out a bitter laugh. "Since we are speaking to one another about injuries incurred during my absence, tell me about your feet."