From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(76)

"Tell me once and for all, are you and Lincoln together?" she said.

Lincoln slowed. His footsteps were so light, she hadn't heard him. I clutched my imp's necklace.

"That is not your affair," I told her.

"It is very much my affair, you little sewer rat." She raised her hand but I deflected her slap with ease. I may not have resumed my training since returning to Lichfield, but I hadn't forgotten some of the defensive moves Lincoln taught me.

I put out a hand to stay Lincoln. I wanted to deal with her without his interference. "Sewer rat? Have you nothing more original?"

"He's mine," she hissed, baring her teeth. I'd never seen her so wild. Despite the jewels and elegant clothes, she looked as desperate and vicious as a slum whore defending her territory. "You cannot possibly be interesting enough for a man like him."

"He's not yours, Lady Harcourt, no more than he is mine. He's never going to belong to any woman. If you knew him well, you'd know that." I glanced past her to Lincoln. His gaze flicked to mine then back to her, but I saw the brief flare in it. A flare of hope.

Buchanan stood a few steps down from Lincoln, an ominous scowl on his face. He stared at Lady Harcourt's back, pressed his lips together, then spun on his heel. "Doyle!" he shouted as he trudged down the stairs. "My coat! I'm leaving."

Lady Harcourt turned and gasped upon seeing Lincoln there. She staggered a little until she caught the stair rail. "You can't take the carriage," she said to Buchanan.

"I'll walk. Doyle!"

The butler appeared, as did all the other guests, jostling one another in the dining room doorway to get a better view. Lady Harcourt descended the stairs like a queen, her head high and an air of unattainable aloofness about her. Sometimes I wished I could be as outwardly calm. I followed her and rejoined the guests.

"Why are you leaving?" Lord Harcourt asked his brother.

"I've had a viper spit in my face one too many times." He snatched his coat and hat off Doyle and shot a vicious glare at Lady Harcourt. "I've had enough."

"It's freezing out there! You can't walk all the way home."

"Let him go." Lady Harcourt presented Buchanan with her shoulder. "Allow him his dramatic exit."

"God, how I hate you," Buchanan spat. "I wish you'd crawl back under the rock you came from."

"Enough," Marchbank ordered.

Buchanan jerked the door open just as a gunshot resonated from deep within the house.

"Fuck!" came Gus's distant cry from the same direction.

Oh God.

"What's going on?" Gillingham asked, edging toward the front door. "Fitzroy, is this some kind of sick joke?"

Lincoln pulled out a gun from the waistband of his trousers at his back where his jacket had hidden it. Lady Harcourt gasped and sidled up to the others. I moved toward Lincoln and Seth.

"Everyone stay here." Lincoln's order may have been directed at all of us, but he looked at Seth as he spoke then at me. "Don't follow, no matter what you hear."

"You cannot go back there!" the general bellowed. But Lincoln was already striding away.

Seth put his arm around me. He stared at the door that led to the service rooms at the back of the house. It swung closed behind Lincoln. "It'll be all right," he muttered. "Gus is fine. That ugly prick is always fine. Nothing keeps him down. He'll be fine." He passed a shaky hand over his mouth.

I put my arm around his waist and squeezed, but it didn't ease my own concerns. My heart hammered in my throat, and I suddenly felt so cold, even though the front door was shut again. Buchanan hadn't left. No one moved. It was like time stopped as we waited to hear from Lincoln.

"Back into the dining room." The general's bark startled me. "Everyone! Now!" With large sweeps of his arms, he herded the others. "You too," he said to Seth and me.

"I hate not knowing," I said, ignoring him. "Perhaps we should check."

"He's capable of dealing with whatever is happening back there." The general didn't sound entirely convinced by his own words. "He'll want you to be safe, Charlie. Go with the others."

"He's right," Seth said. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

I allowed Seth to steer me into the dining room, but clutched my orb to ease my anxiety. All the others, including Doyle, waited inside, their gazes focused on the door. I joined them, Seth and Doyle flanking me.

Then the candles went out.

"I say!" Gillingham cried, louder than the other protests.

"Who blew them out?" the general demanded.

I hadn't seen. My attention had been on the door.

"Doyle!" Lady Harcourt's screech grated like nails down a chalkboard. "Doyle, re-light them!"

"Yes, ma'am." I felt him move away, the sudden absence of his solidness turning my blood cold. I couldn't see a thing in the dark, not even outlines. The scent of candle smoke filled the room.

"I release you," I muttered, but my imp didn't emerge from its cocoon.

Seth's arms circled me. "Stay close," he murmured in my ear.

I had every intention of doing so. But my arms were suddenly grabbed from behind and I was wrenched away and flung face down on the floor, my hands clasped at my back by large, strong fingers.