From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(30)

"I don't particularly care for swimming in their ocean," I said. "But thank you."

"You may not care for it, but you will find yourself there."

"Why would I?"

"You want a good husband, don't you? Your first marriage is very important, and has nothing at all do with love. Set yourself up first, and worry about finding love elsewhere later."

I stared at her, not quite able to believe what I was hearing. Her thoughts on marriage couldn't be further from mine. "I have no interest in marriage at the moment."

She scoffed. "You will."

"And when I am interested, I won't be hiding my past from my husband, or from those around me." I could have said more but there seemed no point explaining it to her. Her opinion was unlikely to change.

She lowered the newspaper altogether, and took my hands in both of hers. Her look of sympathy forced me to sway back and dread what she might say. "If you're waiting for Mr. Fitzroy, then I must warn you not to get your hopes up. He will be quickly snapped up now, mark my words."

"I'm sure he will be," I said tightly. "If he makes it known that he wants a wife, they'll beat down his door to be first in line. He's handsome and rich." But not at all good marriage material. I'd known that all along, and yet I'd wanted to marry him anyway.

Before.

"Good." She let my hands go. "I'm pleased to see you accepting the situation. You're an understanding girl with a good head on your shoulders. You'll make an excellent wife one day. When you're ready," she added with a wink. "But it doesn't mean we can't scope out potential candidates in the mean time."

I groaned.

"You'll thank me, one day," she said. "This is my gift to you, Charlie, for your birthday tomorrow. I cannot afford more."

"Oh. I don't expect anything from you."

"Nevertheless, I'm offering it. Please, accept it."

I nodded, not at all sure what I had just accepted.

She picked up the newspaper again but did not read. Her jaw set hard. "Now, just to remind you again, Seth is not an option for you."

I laughed. "So you've stated several times already. To repeat my answer—I'm not interested in your son."

"So you say, but I've seen the two of you together. You get along well."

"Like a brother and sister, not paramours."

She considered this a moment. "Seth always wanted siblings. I suppose you and Gus have taken on that role for him in a way." She returned to her newspaper and I headed back to the chair by the window. "The interesting question is," she said from behind the paper, "who informed the newspaper of Julia's past at The Alhambra?"

I'd wager it was Miss Redding. Her jealousy of Lady Harcourt had been obvious.

The crunch of wheels on gravel had me leaping off the chair. "They're back!"

"Good. I need to speak with Seth. There are a number of invitations to consider. I must write a list of the ones he and Mr. Fitzroy plan to attend."

It was going to be a very short list.

I left her in the parlor and made my way to the kitchen to greet them and have a discussion out of Lady Vickers' hearing. Lincoln and Seth came in through the door that led to the courtyard. Gus must have remained in the coach house to tend to the carriage and horses, but with Seth wearing clean, well-cut gentleman's suit, he didn't have to help.

"Well?" I said, stretching my fingers over the warm stove. Cook and Doyle were enjoying their own cup of tea at the table. Upon seeing his master, Doyle scrambled to his feet and stood awkwardly. Cook slurped his tea. "What did you learn?" I pressed.

"Marchbank was the only one of the three male committee members not at the club that day," Lincoln said. "Buchanan was also there, as was his brother."

"His brother! Lord Harcourt!" We'd met Lady Harcourt's eldest stepson when his brother, Andrew, disappeared. I thought he and his wife were living peacefully in the country. "The staff remembered?"

"The manager's memory is good, but not infallible. I asked to see the wagers' ledger for that day. Every day, wagers between members are recorded by the club manager. Between questioning him, the footmen and reviewing the ledger, we ascertained who was there and who was not. Both Buchanans like to gamble, and General Eastbrooke and Lord Gillingham are well known at the club."

"So it seems Marchbank is not a suspect."

"It would seem so."

"What if the killer be someone else?" Cook asked. "Someone we don't know."

"That's a possibility," Lincoln said. "I have the names of everyone recorded in the wagers' ledger."

"Can we see the list?" I asked.

Lincoln tapped his temple. "It's in here. I'll write them down for you."

Seth poured two cups of tea from the teapot on the stove and handed one to Lincoln. Lincoln hesitated then took it.

"Sit," he ordered Doyle as he himself sat.

Doyle expelled a breath and resumed his seat, albeit with a rigid back and shoulders. An awkward silence simmered among our little group. It was inevitable, I suppose, but I didn't like it. I knew just the way to break it, although I didn't expect the situation to explode the way it did.