Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(73)

"You have nothing to apologize for. You couldn't have known, and it's not entirely Lady Harcourt's fault. I could have refused, but the truth is that I wanted to know why you killed Gurry too."

"Did she ask you the night before?

I nodded.

"I wondered why she came. It seemed odd that she would collect me."

"She was also worried you would change your mind and not go to the ball."

"Was she?" he ground out. He shook his head. "We won't speak of this anymore, Charlie. It's done now."

"It's not. I wish to clear the air."

"It's cleared."

"It's not! Lincoln, you need to know how awful I felt summoning Gurry's spirit. I felt sick. And then when you interrupted us in a fury…I thought you would murder someone."

He flinched. Perhaps that had been a poor choice of words. "I wasn't angry with you, Charlie." He rubbed his temple then dug his fingers into his eyes. "I was disappointed. I probably didn't express it very well."

Here was the crux of it. This was what I needed to know, although hearing him speak of his disappointment in me was like a blow to the stomach. "You were disappointed because you thought you could trust me," I finished for him.

His hand dropped to the chair arm and he gave a slight nod.

"Lincoln, you can trust me." I leaned forward, hoping that would get my point across better. "I won't betray you again. I promise."

He said nothing, just stared down at his hand.

"Lincoln?" I said in a small voice. "I have to know…can you bring yourself to trust me again?"

"I already do."

My lip wobbled. I bit it hard.

"But trust goes both ways," he went on. "And clearly you don't trust me or you would have told me what Julia had threatened to do."

"I almost did. That's why I waited up for you to return from the ball. But you were in a foul temper and I changed my mind."

The muscles around his eyes tightened in another flinch. "Then I deserved what happened. Don't excuse my behavior," he said when I opened my mouth to protest. "That entire evening is one I'd rather forget. I was in a foul temper, and unfortunately you were in the firing line at the wrong time. I'm sorry I said the things I did. It was uncalled for."

"Thank you. I forgive you. So…your family wasn't there?"

"One member was, but he knows nothing about my existence. I'm not worthy of his notice, so consequently, he didn't notice me. I don't know why I expected him to."

I bit back my sympathetic response and instead said, "Even though I didn't tell you in advance about Lady Harcourt's request, I want you to know that I do trust you, Lincoln."

His gaze lifted to mine. "Do you? I've betrayed you just as badly in the past."

"That incident was months ago," I said, waving my hand. "I'd already forgotten it." He was referring to the time he'd let me go then set a brute onto me to scare me into staying at Lichfield. It was sometimes difficult to reconcile that incident and the man who'd instigated it with the Lincoln Fitzroy sitting before me.

"No, you haven't," he said quietly. "You still have nightmares about it."

He knew that? "Not only about that man," I assured him. "The nightmares have lessened now, anyway." I shrugged and folded my arms across my chest.

"I was desperate then, Charlie. I didn't know how else to get you to stay. Another man would have known, but not me."

Desperate? For me to stay? Oh. I swallowed and nodded to let him know that I understood. I was too shaken by his honesty to speak. It meant a lot that he would confide in me like this.

"I want you to trust me," he said. "So I'm going to tell you about Gurry."

My eyes widened. "You don't have to."

"I want to. I want you to feel safe here, and that means allaying any fears about me you might still have."

I was about to tell him that I didn't have any fears, but I didn't want him to change his mind and not confide in me so I remained quiet.

"I was eleven when he came to tutor me. We didn't get along particularly well, but that wasn't unusual. My tutors were there to teach me in any way they saw fit."

How could any child learn anything while being beaten? Or fearing a beating?

"When I was twelve, things changed in the general's household. The housekeeper's nephew came to live with us. His parents had died, and he had no one else. He was two years younger than me, but we became friends, of sorts. I'd never had a friend before, never been around other children, so I wasn't easy to get along with. But we did, after a while. The problem was, I was busy with my studies and had little time for him."

"What about after lessons?"

"I studied every day from six in the morning until eight at night for day classes, then the night lessons would begin on those evenings I had them."

"Night classes? What could you possibly learn at night?"

"How to find my way around London in the dark. How to get in through a locked window without waking anyone. How to move about the clubs and dens without being noticed. Among other things."

That was quite an unusual education. I wished I'd had those sorts of lessons. Living on the streets might have been easier at first if I had. "The less I saw of Tim, the harder he tried to get my attention. He was bored and lonely in that house with nothing to do but a few chores. So he would amuse himself by tapping on the windows until my tutors came looking for him, then he'd run off. Or he would place tacks on their chairs, or break their pens and inkwells. He was mischievous, but he did it to get me to laugh."