From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(35)

"And I am the ministry's leader," Lincoln said with perfect calm. "I don't work for the committee."

"You don't have to be alone either."

I rolled my eyes. Could she be any more overt? He was discussing work, and she was making suggestive remarks about his private life. That wasn't the way to Lincoln's heart. Not that I knew the way either—or even if he had one—but innuendo certainly wasn't the answer.

"I don't work alone," he countered. "I work with Seth and Gus."

"Thank you," Seth said. "And I want it known that I agree with your decision. Those people have a right to know their lives are in danger."

"No one cares what you think, Vickers." Gillingham sounded bored. "You're not on the committee and you're not the leader. You and your gorilla shouldn't even be involved, if you ask my opinion."

"I didn't ask it," Seth said with a laconic airiness. "No one did."

"Gentlemen," Marchbank intoned. "Let's keep to the facts. And the main fact is, we don't know where these people are now."

"They could wreak all sorts of havoc," Eastbrooke said.

"They haven't done so to date," Lincoln said.

"They may not have caused us trouble in the past, but you shouldn't have divulged the situation to them. It's ministry business. Highly confidential."

"Now they know we exist," Marchbank added. "You gave away our secret."

"They think I work for the police," Lincoln said.

"It doesn't matter what they think," Gillingham shot back. "They're aware they're being monitored."

"I fail to see how that is a problem."

Gillingham's snort came clear through the closed door. "Then you're a fool."

"Enough, Gilly," Lord Marchbank said. "There's no need for name calling."

I couldn't quite hear Gillingham's grumbled response.

"The problem remains," Lady Harcourt said, "that we don't know where these people are now. Please tell us you had them followed, Lincoln. It would ease our minds greatly."

"They've been instructed to report their movements to me," he said.

"Good."

"Voluntarily?" Eastbrooke asked. Lincoln must have nodded, because he added, "Why would they do so?"

"You've put a lot of trust in them," Marchbank said.

"Most realize the dangers of their own powers," Lincoln told them. "They understand that a monitoring system is necessary and of long term benefit to the nation."

Someone made a scoffing sound. I'd wager it was Gillingham.

"Will you keep their whereabouts to yourself?" Marchbank asked.

"I will. I made them a promise that no one else would be told."

"That doesn't include us," Gillingham said.

"No one will be told. Is that clear?"

A pause then, "Are you implying you don't trust us?" Gillingham spluttered.

"I don't trust anyone."

A more weighty statement could not have fallen from Lincoln's lips. It was followed by complete silence, but it lasted mere seconds, before all four committee members voiced their opposition. It was difficult to distinguish one from the other, but the angry tones couldn't be clearer.

"He's mad," Gillingham said once the other voices ceased. "You've gone soft, Fitzroy. It's that necromancer girl's influence. First you send her away without telling us where, and now everyone else who poses a threat to London."

I sucked in a breath and pressed my ear firmly to the door, wishing I could hear Lincoln's reaction. But if he did react, it wasn't loud enough. The truth was, Lincoln had softened compared to when I'd first met him. Back in the summer, he wouldn't have warned the supernaturals. He would not have seen them as people to protect, but simply names in a file to be monitored. Had I softened him?

"Do be quiet, Gilly," Marchbank snapped. He sounded more irritated than I'd ever heard him. The man's feathers were rarely ruffled. Perhaps he simply didn't like being told he was untrustworthy. I wondered if Lincoln would tell him later that he was the only one not under suspicion, thanks to the fact he'd not been at Brooks's Club the day the murderer employed Rampling.

"You're letting him get away with this?" Gillingham cried. "My God, March, it's not on. Not on at all, I tell you. There's no place for autonomous behavior in the ministry. He is supposed to act under our direction, not outside it. We should have known he'd end up this way, raised as he was, alone in your household, General. He wasn't trained to consider others."

It was the most insightful thing to ever come out of Gillingham's mouth. Lincoln had indeed been brought up alone to be an unemotional leader. Although saying Lincoln had been trained to think that way, like a dog, was putting it coldly.

"Are you accusing me of raising him improperly?" Eastbrooke bellowed.

"Stop it!" Lady Harcourt's high-pitched command cut through me like broken glass. "Enough bickering. I cannot cope with this at the moment. It's trying my nerves."

"Your private life and its effect on your nerves is hardly our problem, Julia," Gillingham shot back. "Do not bring it into ministry meetings."