Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(13)

"Sir Ignatius," she corrected me. "His origins are humble, but—"

"So are yours."

She sniffed. "What do you want, Lincoln?"

"To tell you that your membership of the committee has been revoked," he said.

She shot to her feet, all pretense of elegance gone. "You can't do that!"

"I've sent letters to Lords Marchbank and Gillingham requesting their presence at a meeting at Lichfield this afternoon. I'll inform them then. This is just a courtesy call to inform you. Considering your service to the committee in the past, I didn't think a letter appropriate."

She gasped as if she couldn't quite catch her breath, and pressed a hand to her stomach. "I told you yesterday that my relationship with Ignatius wouldn't affect my loyalty to the ministry."

"You told him who my father is."

A slight pause, then, "I did not."

"Don't lie to me. You know I can detect them."

She fell back a step, her chest heaving with her breaths. "I can't believe he told you," she whispered. "I can't believe he'd betray me like that."

It was confirmation from her own lips that the secret had come from her, not the prince or duke. Whether Lincoln could indeed detect her lie didn't matter. He'd forced a confession.

"You breached the trust bestowed on you, Julia," Lincoln said. "You gave me no choice but to remove you from the committee."

She spluttered a laugh but it quickly faded. "You can't."

"I can."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No! Don't do this. Don't remove me from the committee. It won't happen again."

"You can no longer be trusted to keep ministry secrets."

"No!"

Lincoln said nothing.

"How dare you!" She flew at him and went to grasp his shoulders, or perhaps hit him, but he caught her wrists and held her at bay. She tried to pull free, her teeth gritted, her jaw hard. Her hair fell across her face, over her shoulders, the strands tangling in her struggle to free herself.

I'd seen her wild, mad side before, but I hadn't expected it today over this. I'd expected her to argue and fight with words, not fists. Had being on the committee meant so much to her?

"Calm yourself," Lincoln intoned.

"Why does everyone betray me?" she growled, her voice low, masculine. "You, Andrew, Ignatius and now this! You men," she spat.

"Stop fighting me or I won't let you go."

She tried to kick him, but her skirts hindered her and Lincoln easily dodged it. She sobbed in frustration but seemed to lose much of her fight. "Don't do this, Lincoln!" she whined. "Don't cut me out of the ministry, out of your life."

His life? So that's what her tantrum was about? She was still clinging to the hope of being friends with Lincoln again? Or even his lover?

Lincoln blinked at her, the only sign that her words had surprised him too. "You thought I wouldn't find out that you'd told him?" he said quietly. "You know me better than that, Julia. I know everything about you. I know who you talk to, who you dine with, who you take to your bed. I know which are your favored servants, and how much money you spend, and the contents of your late husband's will. I know what your plans are before you plan them, and I know what you're thinking before you think it, because I know you."

She stared up at him, her eyes huge, deep pools. He let her go and she took two steps back, bringing her close to me.

"You thought you could betray me like this and not suffer the consequences?" Lincoln went on in that same quiet voice that held more power, more command, than a shout.

She straightened and thrust out her chin, every inch the noblewoman again. "I had to do it. He threatened me."

"No, he didn't. I'll say it again, don't lie to me."

She swallowed.

"You did it so he would marry you," I said. "He promised marriage in exchange for information about Lincoln. What else did you—?"

She swung around, her hand out to strike me across the face. It was so quick, yet I saw it coming from the moment her body began to twist. That small sign allowed me to block her blow with my right forearm and slap her face with my left hand.

She reeled back and would have fallen if Lincoln hadn't caught her. He righted her but didn't let go. She made odd gasping sounds that were almost sobs yet she shed no tears. A red mark marred one of her cheeks while the rest of her face was bloodless.

"Get out," she snarled. "Get out of my house."

Gladly. I went to leave but Lincoln remained. "You must send me a letter officially handing over your committee membership to your heir. If it hasn't been received by the end of the week, I'll just give the position to Seth anyway."

We exited the townhouse and Lincoln assisted me into our waiting coach. He directed the coachman to drive us to Lord Gillingham's house.

"How's your hand?" Lincoln asked as we settled in the cabin.

"Fine. It would have stung if I hadn't been wearing gloves." Now that it was over, I was glad I hadn't broken the skin on her cheek, although I suspected she may sport a bruise. "You didn't even move when she went to hit me. You're not as quick as you used to be," I teased.