From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(36)

Lady Harcourt's response could not be heard.

"The fact remains, you think one of us is the murderer," the general challenged.

"I haven't formed any opinions," Lincoln said. "It may be one of you, or it may not be."

"Outrageous." Gillingham's mutter didn't sound too far from the door. I hoped Gus still stood there, ready to knock in warning if anyone wanted to leave. "I've never been so insulted."

He ought to hear the insults we hurled at him. They got quite colorful at times. I'm sure Seth and Gus were both biting their lips to stop their smiles.

"We can't force him to tell us," Eastbrooke said.

"No, but we can force him out of the ministry," Gillingham said. "He's only the leader because of us."

"Don't be absurd," Eastbrooke said. "The prophecy made him the leader. We can't break it."

"The prophecy said he became leader. It didn't mention for how long."

"I'm not leaving the ministry," Lincoln said. "And that is final. Is there anything else? I'm a busy man."

"You're walking on a thin edge, Fitzroy," Gillingham warned. "A very thin edge."

A quick, light tap sounded on the door. I spun round, only to trip on my torn hem. I scrambled to my feet, but tripped again. The door opened. I lay utterly exposed on the tiled floor.

I glanced back over my shoulder and swallowed my gasp. Lord Gillingham appeared in the widening gap of the open door, his head bowed. He had not seen me, thank God.

"Gillingham, a word before you leave," Lincoln said.

Gillingham turned. "What is it now?"

I half crawled, half slithered across the tiles to the large urn and sat behind it. I pulled my knees up and gathered my skirts around my feet just in time. Lady Harcourt strode out of the library ahead of Lord Marchbank and General Eastbrooke.

"A private matter," I heard Lincoln tell Gillingham. "Regarding your wife."

Lady Harcourt stopped and glanced back as Seth and Gus emerged from the library. "What's that about?" she asked as the library door closed.

"No idea," Eastbrooke said while Gus collected coats from the stand by the main door.

"Perhaps he's taken umbrage to the way Gilly treats his wife in public," Marchbank said with a disinterested air.

"How does he treat his wife?" Eastbrooke asked.

"With disrespect." Marchbank accepted his coat and gloves from Gus as Doyle joined us.

Eastbrooke grunted. "Gilly treats everyone that way. And anyway, why would Lincoln care?"

"Perhaps he feels sorry for her. Perhaps he likes her."

Lady Harcourt bristled. She snatched her gloves off Seth as he handed them to her. With his back to me, I couldn't see his expression. He helped her on with her fur coat then caught her arm so she couldn't leave. She glared at him, but didn't demand he unhand her.

"You two go on," she said to the general and Marchbank. "Gilly can take me home."

The two men bowed and left. Doyle shut the door behind them, then he and Gus passed me to go to the service area. Gus's jaw dropped when he saw me but his pace didn't slow. Doyle must have seen me hiding too, but he gave no indication. I kept myself as small and tight as possible.

"Julia, are you all right?" Seth's rich, warm tones sounded genuine. He must still care for her wellbeing or he wouldn't be asking.

The bitter taste of disappointment filled my mouth like bile. He knew what she was like, knew how she resented me and had orchestrated my kidnapping by Mrs. Drinkwater, yet here he was being kind to her. All over a little gossip, too.

Lady Harcourt glanced at the library door. It remained shut. "I'll manage."

He removed his hand, but she caught it. She stepped closer to him, pressing her considerable chest against his. She peered up at him, all fluttering lashes and pouting lips. I wanted to choke. "That's very sweet of you, Darling, thank you. I feel better already knowing you're in my corner."

I wished I could see Seth's reaction. He didn't move, and his unemotional question gave nothing away. "Do you know who spoke to the papers?"

She shook her head and dabbed the corner of her eye with her little finger. Seth handed her his handkerchief and she accepted it with a weak smile. "I'm so glad we're friends again, dearest Seth. Look at you." She lifted a hand to his face. "My poor Seth. Have you been fighting again?" She gasped. "Not with Lincoln, I hope?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"Husbands, Julia. Always the damned husbands."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Seth, thank you. I needed that." She stood on her toes and kissed him. I heard his intake of breath, and wondered if she'd made the cut on his lip sting or if he'd been taken aback. "My darling Seth. It was silly of us to fight, and over such a small matter as… Well, she's gone now, and we should set our disagreement aside too. I miss you terribly." Her voice turned throaty. "Why not visit me tonight?"

He extracted himself from her grip and stepped back. "I must decline the offer. My mother is trying to find me a wife and it would be a blow to my prospects if I was caught sneaking out of an eligible widow's house in the early hours."