From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(62)

"Oh, Lincoln, you can't be sure of that. And it's not just me. What about the evacuated supernaturals? They can't return to their homes until the killer is caught. You made them a promise that you'd help them."

His gaze shifted away.

I took his hands in both of mine. "Don't abandon them. Don't let the killer win."

"It's not a matter of winning or losing." He sounded so convincing, and yet he didn't look at me. I knew him. Lincoln would look me in the eye if he were telling the truth and needed me to believe it.

"It is, Lincoln. It is about those things. What it isn't about, is me or us. This is something else entirely. Don't abandon the ministry and those people because you think doing so will win my favor. It won't. You aren't the sort of man who steps back from his responsibilities. It's not in your nature, and I wouldn't want your nature to change." I could have gone on to tell him that I'd fallen in love with him exactly the way he was, but that would lead to an exploration of whether I loved him still. I wasn't ready to test that slippery path.

His fingers tightened and his gaze flicked to mine then away. "I gave my decision. My decisions are always final." Even a stranger could have heard the uncertainty in his voice that time.

My eyes fluttered closed in relief. I was so glad that I hadn't been wrong, and that he still wanted to be ministry leader. I didn't want to be the cause of him giving it all up. "Let them think you've resigned. That way, you can continue to search for the killer without the committee's interference."

"They'll learn what I'm doing sooner or later."

"Let's hope it's later, after you've uncovered the murderer."

He looked down at our hands. I'd forgotten they were still linked, and quickly pulled away. His formed fists at his sides. "Resigning may be the right thing to do," he said. "I've never considered what life would be like outside the ministry. I might like it."

More likely he'd go mad from boredom. There couldn't possibly be another job in the world that would keep him active, both in mind and body.

"I'll follow through on this case then decide," he said.

"Very well. If it's what you want." I folded my arms against a shiver. It was cold in the entrance hall. I longed for the fireplace again.

"You should ask Doyle to get the fire going in the library," he said. "I assume you'll stay up to hear Seth's account of the evening?"

I nodded. "What will you do?"

"I have a very vague report to write."



Lincoln, Seth and Gus joined me in the library upon their return. Gus crouched by the fire, his hands outstretched to the warmth, and sighed contentedly. The poor man had spent a lot of time out of doors lately, driving us around. The cold must be getting to him.

"Julia is upset that she wasn't invited, according to Buchanan," Seth told us. He cradled a brandy glass in his hand, although I wasn't sure if he needed it. His eyes were glazed enough and he sported an air of devil-may-care mischief.

Lincoln didn't mention that we'd seen Lady Harcourt and the other committee members, so I kept quiet too.

"It's begun, you know," Seth went on. "This will be the first of many events that she'll not be invited to. The rumor mill is churning out all sorts of things about her, much of it bandied around tonight, despite Buchanan's presence. He probably started most of it. He certainly seemed to enjoy hearing the more salacious tidbits about his step-mother."

"I almost feel sorry for her," I said.

"Don't," Seth said. "She doesn't deserve sympathy, least of all from you. Besides, part of what was said tonight is true. I ought to know; I've participated in some of it." He held up his glass in salute. "But no longer. Particularly when there are so many other ripe little peaches ready for the—"

"Seth!" Lincoln's bark cut Seth off.

Seth chuckled into his glass.

"I thought your mother wanted you to marry one of those little peaches," I said wryly.

"She does. Doesn't mean I'm going to." He shrugged. "If I have to endure parties and silly conversation, I might as well enjoy myself. Spoils of war, and all that."

"You're a prick," Gus told him.

"Confine your dalliances to the widows," I said. "Don't go ruining any poor debutants."

"Poor debutants! You should have seen Miss Yardly. Practically had to break her fingers to pry them off me. She accosted me in the hallway when I went to use the privy and touched me in places that offended my delicate sensibilities. There's nothing innocent about her."

Gus snorted a laugh.

"Did you manage to speak to Buchanan about his movements on the day in question?" Lincoln asked. "Or were you too busy gossiping and fighting off ardent admirers?"

Seth smirked. "I did, as it happens, when we retreated to the billiards room. Through charm and the liberal application of alcohol, I managed to get out of him that he'd risen late from his mistress's bed, then gone home to freshen up, only to find his brother visiting. If Harcourt hadn't arrived in London that day, I doubt Buchanan would have recalled where he'd been or what he'd been doing. Apparently they fought over the younger brother's dissolute habits, then went their separate ways. Harcourt stormed out of the house, but Buchanan doesn't know where he went. Buchanan, meanwhile, made himself agreeable to The Honorable Jane Stebney-Green. He's in need of a wealthy wife and she happens to be an heiress and available, albeit a quiet girl, not at all his type."