From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(75)

Seth and Buchanan returned some minutes later ahead of Doyle pushing the dinner trolley into the dining room. He'd been given strict instructions not to let any food out of his sight between the kitchen and dining table, but even so, I waited for everyone else to try their soup before I dipped my spoon in.

"Delicious," Gillingham said from the other side of the table. "Always did say you had an excellent cook."

I had to tilt my head a little to the right to see him past the large central candelabra. He appeared to be sincere. The fool had forgotten that he'd once employed Cook himself.

Next came the oysters and shrimp, after which I made my excuses.

"Are you all right?" Lincoln asked with convincing concern.

"Just a little stomach ache," I said, heading out. "I'm sure it's nothing."

I made my way upstairs, pausing on the landing. I glanced down and stifled a gasp. Andrew Buchanan followed me. He lumbered up the stairs, stumbling once, a leering grin on his face.

I clutched my amber orb. "What do you want?"

"A little kiss from a pretty wench," he slurred.

The words hadn't even left his mouth when Lincoln appeared behind him. "Touch her and I'll hurt you."

Buchanan raised his hands in surrender. "I thought you two were no longer together. If you still want her for yourself, Fitzroy, you should have said earlier."

Lincoln moved up to the same step as Buchanan.

Buchanan swallowed. "I wasn't going to ravish her. Not unless she wanted me to, that is. Sometimes they do, but I suppose you're aware of that."

If he didn't shut up soon, he might find his mouth shut for him by Lincoln's fist.

"What's going on here?" the general called from the foot of the staircase. "Lincoln?"

"Buchanan was just returning to the dining room," Lincoln said.

Buchanan backed away, and would have fallen down the stairs if Lincoln hadn't caught his arm. He did not let go and escorted him the entire way down. All three men returned to the dining room, and I continued up.

I remained in my room for a few minutes then returned to the dining room. Everyone looked up as I re-entered.

"Feeling better?" Marchbank asked.

"I am, thank you."

Gillingham picked up my wine glass and passed it to me. "I find a glass of red does wonders for the constitution."

Why was he so eager for me to drink? Not only had I been out of the room, but so had Lincoln. While Doyle hovered nearby, I couldn't expect him to watch every guest during our absence. I accepted the glass and waited until the attention was no longer on me then set it down without drinking.

Gillingham, however, noticed.

"Are you any closer to finding the circus murderer?" Buchanan asked Lincoln in what was a surprisingly sober manner.

His brother slammed the knife and fork down on his plate. I'd be surprised if the plate didn't chip. "For God's sake, Andrew, not at the dinner table."

"Why not? I think everyone here is well versed in blood, gore and the supernatural."

"There are ladies present."

"They're hardly delicate flowers, Donald."

"Even so," the general said. "Not appropriate."

"Very well." Buchanan concentrated on the three different roasted meats and poultry on his plate, but I got the feeling he wasn't finished with the topic. "Tell me," he said, when no other conversation began, "what will you do now that you're no longer part of the ministry, Fitzroy?"

"Travel," Lincoln said simply.

"No," the general cut in. Everyone looked at him. His gaze, which had been watching the door behind me, settled on Lincoln. "Stay here in London. You will be recalled."

"He isn't needed, General," Gillingham said. "We can investigate without him. We have the resources and means."

"I disagree."

Lady Harcourt dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "Gentlemen, please, my nerves—"

"Are fine," the general cut in. "Stop exaggerating, Julia."

Lady Harcourt's eyes widened. I'd wager she hadn't been addressed so disrespectfully in a long time.

"I say," Buchanan said, "that wasn't called for."

"Again, I disagree." The general turned to Lincoln, but did not get a chance to speak.

"There's no need to be so abrupt," Lord Harcourt said. "For once, I agree with my brother. Whatever your differences with Julia, she is a lady and deserves your respect."

Abrupt.

I blinked at Harcourt. He was right. The general did have an abrupt and to-the-point way of speaking. Just like the letters written to Dr. Bell. Not only that, but he looked to the door frequently. Why? Who was he expecting to walk in?

I tried to catch Lincoln's attention, but it was focused on the general too. Had he also made the connection?

I pressed my hand to my stomach and rose. "Excuse me," I murmured with what I hoped was a pained expression.

Several gazes burned into my back as I walked out, and once again, I reached the stair landing before a guest caught up to me. It wasn't the general, as I'd expected, but Lady Harcourt with Lincoln not far behind. She hurried up the stairs and paused beneath the chandelier. The dozens of little gas lights picked out the gems in her hair and the cruel gleam in her eyes.