Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(12)

"Come sit by me," I said to Cook. "Gus, poor a brandy for him."

Cook had removed his apron but he brought the smells of roasted meat with him. He sat beside me and sighed like a man who'd been on his feet all day. Lady Vickers gave him a curt nod, her way of apologizing for her rudeness. He nodded back.

With that out of the way, I said, "Lincoln was just about to tell us what Gawler said when he questioned him about the murder. If Lady Vickers doesn't mind such a discussion, that is."

"I don't mind." She sipped her sherry slowly, peering over the glass in my direction. Or was it Cook's direction?

"Gawler denied any wrongdoing," Lincoln said. He sat in a chair near the window, looking relaxed yet alert. "He questioned his pack mates this morning, after he heard about the mauling, and they too denied any involvement. He believes them."

"Did you believe him?" I asked.

"I didn't detect a lie, but without questioning his pack, I can't vouch for their honesty."

"It might be worth speaking to Harriet. She ought to have some idea if any of them are murderously inclined."

Lady Vickers made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat but offered no comment.

"Gawler is worried about the blame being laid at his feet," Lincoln went on. "He knows how it looks. The murder happened one street from his own residence."

"I hate the Old Nichol," Gus grumbled. "It's packed with human scum. It don't surprise me that someone got murdered there."

"Murders happen there all the time," Seth agreed. At his mother's and Alice's raised brows, he added, "So I hear. Very gruesome murders. Mother, you'll probably want to leave before you hear any more."

"My constitution is quite strong, thank you," she said. "Do continue."

Seth muttered something under his breath but I couldn't hear it. Why was he trying to get his mother to leave? I glanced at her, only to see her looking at me again. No, not me. At Cook. He, however, didn't notice. I smiled into my glass.

"If his pack didn't do it, who does Gawler think is responsible?" Alice asked.

"A random attacker?" Seth offered.

Lincoln shook his head. "He believes Swinburn did it and is trying to blame Gawler's pack, with the intention of forcing us to take action and disband it. Gawler thinks it's a power play by Swinburn."

"To become the top wolf pack in the city," I said, nodding. "It's a sound theory and fits with what we know of Swinburn."

"We need to talk with him again," Seth said.

Lincoln lifted a finger from his glass to halt the suggestion before it gained momentum. "I need to learn more details from the police first—the victim's name and place of residence, as well as the exact nature of the injuries. I want to know if they match those of Protheroe in the Hyde Park attack."

Lady Vickers set down her glass. "I think I'll leave you to it after all." She rose and all the men stood until she exited.

"I can raise the victim's spirit to find out more," I said as they sat again.

Lincoln gave a single nod and we set out our plans for the following day. A day that would begin with the most difficult task of all—confronting Lady Harcourt and advising her that she was off the committee.





Chapter 3





It was too early for making calls on members of polite society, but Lincoln didn't care for propriety, and our visit to Harcourt House in Mayfair wasn't a social call. We found ourselves having to wait in the drawing room, however, while Millard, the butler, fetched his mistress. It gave me time to admire her exquisite taste in furnishings, although it was spoiled by the memory of Marguerite Buchanan's brother shooting himself in this very room several months ago.

Lady Harcourt swanned in fifteen minutes later with her hair unbound. The glossy black locks fell to the middle of her back in waves that didn't bounce in the slightest as she glided across the floor. Her dancer's training served her well in her latest role as a noblewoman, although she would have given anything for it to have remained a secret.

"So early!" she declared, sinking onto a chair. "You will recall that I don't like to rise before nine, Lincoln, and take my breakfast in bed."

Despite steeling myself for this meeting, I was still shocked by her crassness. What sort of woman spoke to a gentleman like that in front of his fiancée? Not a kind one, that was certain. I hoped I managed to school my features and not show my feelings. I didn't want to give her the victory.

"This business couldn't wait," Lincoln said.

"Do sit down." When neither of us did, she added, "I know we haven't got along well of late, but I hope that will change now. We three are getting what we want after all. You two want each other, and I am marrying Sir Ignatius."

"And Swinburn," Lincoln said before I could. "He also got what he wanted."

She smiled. "Thank you, he did. I'm a fine choice for him, if I do say so myself."

I managed to turn my choke into a cough without making it too obvious.

Or so I thought. Lady Harcourt's gaze turned flinty. "Is there something you wish to say, Charlotte? Do you think me a poor choice of wife?"

"I think you and Swinburn deserve one another," I said.