From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(32)

"Celebrate your birthday, of course!" Seth grinned. "Nineteen, eh? I remember that age. So young, so innocent."

Gus snorted. "You were not innocent at nineteen."

"Nor were you."

Lincoln seemed not to hear their banter. He sat at his desk, his focus on his hand resting on the papers there. Just beyond the papers sat a small ring box with my engagement ring nestled in the deep blue velvet. Why would he keep it on his desk and open like that?

"Is something wrong?" I asked him.

He glanced up. Blinked. "No."

"If there's nothing more," Seth said, rising, "I'm going to the kitchen to see what Cook's preparing for dinner."

"And to avoid your mother."

"The kitchen is no longer a safe haven for me," Seth said on a sigh. "Nowhere is."

They nodded at Lincoln then left. I followed. "I'll have Doyle order a new rug," I said to him when I reached the doorway. "This one is ruined."



"Charlie! Wait!" Gus bounded down the stairs the following morning, one hand behind his back. When he reached the bottom, he thrust out a large parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. "Happy birthday."

"You got me something?" I said, accepting it.

"Of course."

"Should I open it now?"

"If you don't, I'll open it for you."

I laughed and untied the string. "You're so sweet. I wasn't expecting gifts. I've hardly been home long enough for you to shop."

"I got it before you left. If I knew you were goin' to be sent away and might not come back, I would've given it to you. Your leavin' caught me unawares."

"It caught everyone unawares." I handed him the string and opened the paper to reveal a black velvet hat sporting a frothy blue feather at the front and a matching ribbon around the crown. "It's lovely, Gus. Thank you." I pecked his cheek. "Are you heading in for breakfast?"

He offered me his elbow and we entered the dining room together. Lincoln and Seth were already seated, but both stood upon seeing me."

"Happy birthday, Charlie!" Seth drew me into a hug without a care for the new hat which I managed to thrust out of the way before it was crushed.

"Thank you," I said.

"Happy birthday," Lincoln said, and sat down again. He resumed eating his bacon and reading the newspaper spread out on the table beside him.

Seth took my hand. "You can eat after you've unwrapped my gift."

"I'm so fortunate," I said, accepting the package. Tears quickly welled as I opened the wrapping to reveal a new pair of black leather gloves. I'd not celebrated my birthday since my mother died. I'd never told the boys in my gang the date of my birthday for fear it would lead to questions about my age. No one had wished me a happy birthday for five years, or given me a gift. Now I had two.

"Thank you," I said to Seth. "They'll go marvelously with the hat."

"You mean the hat will go with the gloves. They're made from the best kid leather." He picked them up and stroked them against my cheek. "See how soft they are?"

Gus snorted and headed to the sideboard where Doyle had laid out the usual breakfast of toast, eggs and bacon. A separate covered dish occupied the center with one of Lincoln's cards leaning against. The card had been reversed to show the blank side with my name scrawled on it in a hand I recognized from Cook's marketing lists. I lifted the lid and gasped. Three pastries, all different shapes and sizes, were arranged on a white plate. The thick triangular one with the lattice top appeared to be filled with fruit, a flatter rectangle had creamy custard spilling from the ends, and the square one dusted in sugar hid its secrets beneath golden flakey pastry.

I smiled. They were Cook's gift to me. I'd told him all about the delicious French pastries I'd tried on my journey to Paris with Lincoln, giving him as many details as I could remember. He must have recreated these based on my descriptions.

Gus dropped a piece of bacon onto his toast. "He never cooked me nothin' like that for my birthday."

The pastries were a delight. The square one turned out to be filled with chocolate that oozed into my mouth when I bit into it. It took me back to the wonderful, peaceful mornings Lincoln and I spent in Paris, sampling the most delicious food and enjoying one another's company. No one tried to kill or kidnap me there, and he'd treated me with respect and kindness. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

I thanked Cook after breakfast in the kitchen.

"My pleasure," he said. "It were a challenge to make them, and they not be exact, most like, but I liked doing it." He chucked me under the chin. "Have a good birthday, Charlie."

"It's off to a wonderful start so far."

Doyle shyly handed me something he'd been holding behind his back. Like the other gifts, it was wrapped in brown paper but was tied with a green ribbon, not string. "Oh, Doyle, you didn't have to," I said, unwrapping the book of short stories. "Thank you. I love reading."

His cheeks pinked but his chin didn't drop from its lofty height. "Since you have to remain at Lichfield for the next little while, I thought you might like something to occupy your time."

"I certainly will."