From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(29)

His features settled into a blank expression. "There is nothing to tell. You saw me at a weak moment."

"A moment when you forgot to walk without a limp." Speaking with him was a battle in itself where neither of us got the upper hand. I felt like I had to be on my guard the entire time, and yet I neither advanced nor retreated. "I know about the broken glass and the blood on your floor. Before you get angry with Doyle for telling me, you should know that he's only concerned for your welfare."

A beat passed. Two. His eyelids lowered and he watched me through his lashes. "Does your asking mean that you are concerned too?"

I bristled. "I'm curious as to why you broke a glass then deliberately walked over it."

He watched me. I bore it with what I hoped was a defiant stance and a lack of emotion, but it wasn't easy. His scrutiny made it difficult to maintain a fa?ade of indifference.

After a few moments, he stepped around me. He waited, a hand on the door handle. It would seem I was dismissed. With my chin tilted up and my gaze on the door, not him, I strode out of the library.

"I'm glad you're home," he said while I was still within earshot. "I know you think I'm not, but I am. Immeasurably."

"Is that so?" I tossed over my shoulder without stopping. "I suppose my return will help assuage some of your guilt."

When I reached the landing on the main staircase, out of sight of him downstairs, I ran the rest of the way to my rooms. Once inside, I sat on the floor, my head on my knees, and cried. Not from sorrow, but from sheer, utter relief at being home and for the frustration of being so near Lincoln again. I thought I'd be able to bear seeing him every day, but I was no longer sure that I could. He wasn't someone I could remain indifferent to.



I was never very good at waiting. It felt like an eternity watching for Lincoln, Seth and Gus to return from Brooks's Club through the parlor window. Surely it shouldn't take long, but two hours after their departure, they still hadn't returned.

Lady Vickers tried to convince me to join her on the sofa and sew, but even that mundane task proved a trial. I started at every creak of the house, every breath of wind rattling the window panes. Doyle's arrival with tea provided some relief, not because of the tea or his presence, but because he brought the newspaper with him. He passed it to Lady Vickers and then left. She flipped to the society pages. I scanned the front page for some news, but it was mostly of a political nature and not interesting to me.

Lady Vickers gasped. "Good lord. My my. She'll be upset at seeing this."

I knew she was goading me into asking her, but I didn't care. I needed the distraction. "What is it?"

"Listen to this." She snapped the paper open and cleared her throat. "'This newspaper has learned of the scandalous past of one of London's most illustrious dames. Never one to shy away from a party, H's low birth did not hinder her rise after marrying a peer, but this as-yet un-verified information may well do so. It has come to our attention that the celebrated beauty danced at The Alhambra in her youth. The proprietor of that establishment, Mr. Golightly, refrained from commenting, but our source tells us that H was a popular performer with the audience.'"

An audience that consisted mostly of gentlemen eager to associate with the dancers during the long interval and afterward. I'd been there and learned of Lady Harcourt's past as a dancer from Golightly's assistant, Miss Redding, a dancer herself. Lady Harcourt met her future husband at The Al and had managed to keep her past a secret. Until now, it seemed. Her reputation had been clinging to respectability by the barest margin in recent times. Miss Redding seemed to want to reveal the secret, and another former dancer, Mrs. Drinkwater, had threatened to do so too. Only by divulging information about me to her blackmailer had Lady Harcourt avoided her scandalous past being aired. I'd been tempted to air it myself on occasion.

Lady Vickers couldn't possibly know any of that, however. "H?" I asked innocently.

"Julia, Lady Harcourt, of course. All the clues are right here." She pointed to the article, the first and most prominent on the tattler page. "'Low birth,' 'marrying a peer,' 'beauty.' The extra clue of 'H' is hardly even needed." She smiled at me. "Oh, how the mighty fall."

"You don't like her?"

She sniffed. "She was among the first to snub me after my husband's debts became known. She pretended to be sympathetic, of course, but I saw through her act."

"Why would she snub you?"

"Nobody likes to be on the lower rungs, and at the time, she was still firmly attempting to climb out of the mire of her birth. By being the first to ostracize me, she made herself more popular with that waspish set. They simply love to dip their forked tongues into malicious gossip. She proved to have the cruelest tongue of all and quickly became their leader. I have no sympathy for women of that ilk. None at all. Sadly, society is riddled with them, from top to bottom."

"Does Seth know how she treated you?" Surely not, considering Lady Harcourt had been one of his mistresses up until very recently. He even seemed fond of her, before he'd learned how cruel she'd been to me.

"I doubt it. He's a man and men have no use for gossip. Their world doesn't revolve around it like ours, my dear." She gave me a severe look over the newspaper. "Society madams are like sharks in the water, just waiting for their pray to swim past. They can smell vulnerability, and when they do, they attack. You must remember that, Charlie. Remember to never show fear or weakness to them, even if you feel like curling into a ball in the corner of the room." She suddenly patted my knee and grinned. "That's why Julia hates me still. She loathes my defiance, my unwillingness to play her games. If you follow my guidance, I'll steer you through the treacherous waters safely. I don't particularly care for myself. My dash is done and I will lie in the bed I made for myself, but I still know which way the sharks are swimming and I can help you."