From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(42)

He stroked it. "I thought I looked distinguished."

I smiled. "If by distinguished you mean older, then yes. It ages you by ten years, at least."

"That's what I hoped. If I had one with gray in it, I would have worn that."

"You keep false mustaches in your room?"

"I purchased some from a wigmaker recently. I decided that if I am to do less…interrogating, I'll need more disguises."

"Sometimes interrogating is necessary. It's also something you do very well."

A gleam appeared in his eyes that I hadn't seen since my return to Lichfield. "You sound as if you doubt my ability to act."

Good acting required a certain degree of empathy. I didn't believe Lincoln had sufficient, but I wouldn't tell him that. I didn't want to destroy his lighter mood. "I'll assess you based on today's performance. Are you to be a journalist, then, and I your assistant?"

He nodded and reached into his inside coat pocket. "You'll need these." He handed me a pencil and notepad. "We'll try University College Hospital. It's closest and they have a strong medical research department."

"I hope this garners results," I said quietly. "Otherwise we must rely on Seth's efforts today and his questioning of Andrew Buchanan. Speaking of Buchanan, how did Lady Harcourt seem to you earlier?"

"It's difficult to tell. She's good at keeping her feelings to herself."

Unlike me. I tended to wear my heart on my sleeve where it was exposed for the world to see. "It must be a difficult time for her."

"She has Buchanan for comfort."

"I doubt he'd be very comforting. That man has a nasty streak."

"That makes them a good match." He eyed me closely. "It's kind of you to worry about Julia, Charlie. It's not necessary, however. She's capable of looking after herself."

"I know. I was simply curious." I fished out Alice's letter from my reticule. "Do you mind if I read it now? I'm desperate to know how she fares."

"Go ahead. I admit that I'm curious too. Leaving her behind may not have been wise. Her power is too unpredictable for my liking."

I nodded and opened the letter, careful not to tear the flimsy paper. Her small, neat writing covered the entire page, leaving only the narrowest gap between the lines. I scanned it quickly then re-read it from the beginning. "All is well," I said on a breath. "There have been no further 'incidents', as she calls them, although she still has the dreams. She has become good friends with the other supernaturals, too, and they all have a better understanding of one another." I laughed softly at the next paragraph.

"What is it?"

"Mrs. Denk found herself locked in the dungeon overnight before one of the teachers realized and let her out. Apparently the spirit of Sir Geoffrey lured her in there. I shouldn't laugh. That dungeon was an awful place. A few hours down there feels like days."

He leaned forward, his eyes hooded. "How do you know?"

I folded up the letter and tucked it back into my reticule.

"Charlie?"





Chapter 10





"Mrs. Denk put me down there."

A muscle in his jaw tensed. He held my gaze until I could no longer stand it and looked away.

He touched my knee. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shifted my knees away. "There was no point since you came for me."

He leaned back and turned to the window. Rain splattered the glass, blurring the cityscape outside. It was difficult to tell where we were precisely, thanks to the monotony of grayness.

"Did you buy wigs too?" I asked to fill the silence.

"Just mustaches. I thought I might cut my hair to—"

"Don't do that.

He blinked. My vehemence surprised me too.

"Your hair suits you," I said with a shrug.

We arrived at the Gower Street hospital and headed inside to see the governor. We only got as far as his assistant in the outer office, a needle-faced man who peered at us over his spectacles. Lincoln must have decided he would do. He asked to see the head of the hematology research facility to interview him about his latest discoveries.

"For the article my editor asked me to write," he finished, indicating me holding my pencil and notepad.

"You've made a mistake," the assistant said with a frown. "We don't have any doctors specializing in hematology here."

"Oh." Lincoln sounded disappointed, if somewhat wooden. "Do you know which hospital I should try?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"My editor got wind of great strides being made in that area of medical science and wanted our paper to be the first to report on it."

The assistant clasped his hands on the top of his desk in front of him. "I don't know of any laboratories making great strides in hematology. Are you sure you don't mean infectious diseases?"

"The two are linked, are they not?"

"I suppose."

When the assistant said nothing further, Lincoln leaned forward. I held my breath and waited for the interrogation to begin. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone this," he said, "but the editor informed me that the paper's owner is considering donating a large sum to further the research." Then he did the oddest thing. He winked.