Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(35)
I went to fetch them, but Lincoln caught my arm. "Let him get them himself."
"It's all right. I am the Lichfield maid, and he's our guest. I ought to do it."
"He's no guest of mine," he growled.
"We have to tolerate him, for now, if a meeting has been called. It's all right," I said again. "I'll do this. You go inside and tell Cook to prepare tea."
He hesitated before removing his hand. I trotted down the stairs to Gillingham and the carriage. I reached into the cabin, but just as my fingers touched the silk of his hat, the crunch of gravel had me whipping around.
Teeth bared, Gillingham lunged at my head with his walking stick.
And Lincoln was too far away to stop it hitting me.
CHAPTER 8
I dove to the side so that the stick hit the carriage, not me, and landed on my hands and knees on the gravel. My palms stung, but I jumped up and went to grab Gillingham's arm and twist it as Lincoln had taught me.
Except he got there first. He stood between us and grabbed Gillingham's wrist. He snatched the walking stick and snapped it in two over his knee. It was the second stick of Gillingham's that he'd broken in as many months.
"Pathetic," Gillingham said as another carriage rolled up behind his. He laughed; a brittle, dry laugh that was as humorless as the man himself. "She's a maid, Fitzroy, and a creature of death. You shouldn't—"
Lincoln clamped a hand to the other man's jaw, shutting his mouth with an audible clack of teeth. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of Gillingham's cheeks and the sound he made could have been that of choking, a protest or cry of pain.
"Lincoln! Let him go!" General Eastbrooke shouted from his carriage. The two drivers exchanged alarmed and uncertain glances.
Lincoln's face only hardened, something I'd not thought possible. His mouth twisted and the black orbs of his eyes were so dense that I was afraid he might never see his way out of his rage.
Oh God, he could break Gillingham's jaw.
General Eastbrooke tried to pull Lincoln off Gillingham, but Lincoln made no sign that he'd registered his presence. I laid a hand on his arm too, but that did nothing, so I pressed my palm against his cheek.
He blinked.
I stroked my thumb over his face and he blinked again. He removed his hand, shoving Gillingham away as he did so. "Don't come near her," he said in a voice so raw that I hardly recognized it. He took my hand and pulled me with him. I had to run to keep up with his long strides.
"I was only testing her," Gillingham grumbled. "You claimed to be training her to defend herself. I wanted to see if you were getting results."
"Is that so?" General Eastbrooke sounded amused. "And how did she go in your little test, Gilly?"
Gillingham grunted and if he gave a response, I didn't hear it.
Once inside the house, Lincoln let me go. Only then did he seem to see me. He took my hands and inspected the palms, then ordered me upstairs. "See to the grazes."
"Will you be all right?" I asked, searching his face for signs that he might try to kill Gillingham in my absence.
He nodded stiffly. "Of course. Go."
I headed upstairs to my room and washed the bits of gravel off before changing into my maid's uniform. I used the service stairs to get to the kitchen, rather than the main staircase, to avoid any encounters with other committee members.
Gus looked up from where he was arranging cups and saucers on a tray at the kitchen table. "Charlie, what happened?"
I glanced from him to Cook, putting the final dusting of icing sugar on the cake. "What do you mean?"
"Death came in here looking like he wanted to murder someone, ordering us to get cake and tea into the parlor for the committee members. Did Lord Gillingham do something to annoy him again?"
"Annoy? That's one way of putting it. Set the cake on that tray and I'll carry it in." I went to fetch the cake plates and forks from the cupboard.
"He asked me to serve," Gus said. "I don't want to annoy him any more than he already is by disobeying."
"You can still serve. I'll take in the cake and you take the tea things. Two trays, two servants."
He relented without argument so Lincoln mustn't have said "Don't let Charlie do it." Even if he had, I would have fought to perform my role. I wasn't going to let Lord Gillingham think he'd frightened me when he hadn't. On the contrary. I was pleased with myself for foiling his so-called test. He'd bolstered my confidence without intending to. I must be sure to tell Lincoln that later. It might make him a little less angry.
I heard his voice before I reached the parlor. He was recounting the evening we'd found the bodies at the butcher's and learned about the captain from Pete and Jimmy. There were a few holes in his story, however, and the committee members pounced on them.
"How did you return the bodies to the cemetery?" Lord Marchbank asked.
"I appropriated the butcher's cart."
"And moved them on your own?"
"Am I not enough?"
I entered, with Gus behind me, and set the tray on the table near Lincoln. I avoided his glare and set about slicing the cake. Ordinarily I would place the tea things near Lady Harcourt, as she liked to perform hostess duties, but this way I would have to remain in the parlor longer. I glanced at Lord Gillingham as I handed him a slice of cake. Both of his cheeks sported bruises above his beard, and there was a rigidity about his shoulders that hadn't been there before. He didn't acknowledge me, for which I was grateful.