Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(2)

"You look like you've seen a ghost," said Seth, approaching from the service area at the back of the house.

"Oh, I…no. Not today."

He winced. "Apologies. I spoke without thinking."

I smiled. "No ghosts, just a master whom I suspect stops himself from saying the things he really means."

"Death?" He glanced up the staircase. "Are you sure? He always seems to say exactly what he means to me. Then again, I'm not a pretty young woman living under his roof." He winked and grinned.

"Ha! I hardly think that's the problem." On the few occasions when I'd thought Lincoln did see me as a woman, and one he would want to know intimately, he would do or say something that made it clear I was mistaken.

"Perhaps he needs his undergarments mended and is too embarrassed to ask you," Seth said.

"That's more likely. Perhaps it's best not to tell him that you pass on all needlework to me."

Whereas I performed the housekeeping duties, Seth and Gus took care of Lincoln's personal needs—except the mending. They even took turns cleaning his rooms. He'd refused to allow me in them, these last two months, even to deliver his meals. The only other employee at Lichfield was Cook, and between the four of us, we managed to keep the house organized, if not perfectly clean. If Lincoln ever decided to host a dinner party, however, we would be in all sorts of trouble. Fortunately, he disliked company. Our only guests were Ministry of Curiosities committee members, who paid calls from time to time. Mostly it was either General Eastbrooke or Lady Harcourt, and once Lord Marchbank had dinner with Lincoln. Lord Gillingham hadn't come at all in the last two months, thank goodness. I might have been tempted to tip the gravy in his lap if he had.

"Come into the kitchen." Seth beckoned me with a jerk of his head, sending his fair hair tumbling over his forehead. The tousled locks made him look even more boyishly handsome. "We've got a surprise for you."

"For me? Why?"

He didn't answer so I dutifully followed him. Cook and Gus stopped what they were doing and all three men broke into applause.

"What's this for?" I asked, laughing.

"For beating the master, fair 'n' square," said Gus. His broken-toothed grin was so broad that the deep crows’ feet wrinkles swallowed the scar at the corner of his right eye.

"You saw?"

"We sometimes watch from a window," Seth said, with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

Cook had disappeared into the adjoining pantry and now emerged with a small round cake. He handed it to me. "Sponge," he announced. "Your favorite."

"You didn't have to bake me something special."

"Didn't. Baked 'em to have tomorrow, but you can eat that one now." He winked one of his lashless eyes at me. "It's only small, so won't spoil dinner."

Gus snorted. "Probably fill her up, the way she eats."

"I eat well now, thank you." Far better than when I first came to Lichfield from the slums. That didn't stop the men from always encouraging me to eat more, however. I suspected I would never eat enough to satisfy them.

Cook returned to the range where his face and bald head soon became shiny from the heat, and I sat at the central table and ate my cake. Gus sat alongside me, mending a broken garden tool, while Seth prepared plates and cutlery for the meal. Doing chores didn't seem to bother them, even though they weren't actually footmen. Perhaps they were bored and the jobs gave them something to do. No one at Lichfield liked to be idle, not even Seth, a gentleman born and bred who must be used to servants doing everything for him. If he resented his lowered position here, he didn't show it. I wasn't yet certain what had led him to work for the ministry. He'd been living in reduced circumstances before Lincoln employed him, and was grateful to have a roof over his head and food in his belly. I understood how he felt. Lichfield Towers was a vast improvement over my previous living quarters of a damp, stinking basement shared with a dozen boys.

A loud knock on the back door echoed through the house. We all stopped what we were doing, but for a moment, no one moved. Who would be making deliveries now?

"I'll get it," Seth said. Gus and I followed him out of curiosity.

We met Lincoln striding along the service corridor. Ragged twists of damp hair framed his face, softening the hard planes but not the sharp gaze that locked with mine. For a moment I thought he was going to order me to remain hidden. My necromancy had made me a target for a madman two months ago, but he was dead now, and few outside the ministry knew what I could do. Nevertheless, I still felt vulnerable, and Lincoln was perhaps aware of it. He did not ask me to leave, however, as Seth opened the door.

The Highgate Cemetery head groundsman stood on the courtyard stoop. The crooked-backed fellow with bulging forearms and long black beard eyed each of us in turn then quickly removed his hat when he spotted Lincoln.

"Good evenin', sir." He bobbed his head and screwed his hat in his hands. "Sorry to bother you, sir."

"You have news, Mr. Tucker?" Lincoln asked.

"Aye, sir. I been keepin' an eye out for them filthy robbers, ever since you reported seein' 'em, sir." Tucker sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Ain't seen hide nor hair of 'em until just now."

Seth fell back to allow Lincoln to face the grounds man. "They stole another body?" Lincoln asked.