Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(59)

"This is abduction!"

"You came here of your own accord." Swinburn strode to the door. "Come, Harriet. We'll leave her to stew in her own filthy temper for a little while. Jenkin will watch her."

"Jenkin is the footman," Harriet said stiffly. "And a shape changer. Don't try to get past him or he'll be forced to hurt you."

"Harriet! You're really going to comply with this? Lincoln will be furious."

"Do stop relying on him to rescue you, Charlie. You have the skills to rescue yourself."

I bristled. I never relied on Lincoln to rescue me. Did I?

"I have to return home now," she went on, "but Sir Ignatius will see that you're set free after you calm down so it's in your best interests to sit and have tea."

Swinburn opened the door and slipped out with Harriet. The footman took their place, closed the door and guarded it. He stood straight, his hands by his sides, seemingly not looking at me. But his eyes followed me as I paced the floor.

I could not believe it! Swinburn had a nerve keeping me here against my will. Seth would grow suspicious, for one thing, particularly after he saw Harriet leave. It was a deliberately provocative move, but I couldn't think why he'd do it. To show us he would not be manipulated? To prove that Harriet was loyal to him and not us?

Or to keep me distracted from something he was about to do?

I studied the footman, not caring that he noticed. He was young, tall and solid. He'd be difficult to beat in a fight. In his wolf form, he'd be impossible.

"You belong to Swinburn's pack, do you not?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Then you will know that your fellow pack mate, Nigel Franklin, suffered terrible injuries two months ago. Injuries inflicted by his deceased victim whom I summoned from his grave."

Jenkin's gaze met mine.

"Yes, I am that necromancer," I went on.

"Are you threatening me, miss?" he intoned. He was quite a pleasant looking fellow, and I regretted that he would bear the brunt of my anger and not Swinburn.

"Yes."

He swallowed but did not move.

"I don't want to hurt you, Jenkin, but you will get hurt if you don't release me. You see, I can summon the dead from anywhere. I don't need to be in a cemetery or mortuary, I simply need to know their name. And I know a lot of names. So please, step aside."

He shifted his stance, but remained by the door.

"Come now, Jenkin. I don't wish to have an army of dead marching through the streets of London, but that's what will happen. They will come from the cemeteries and besiege this house. Not only will they frighten innocent people along the way, but they will bring attention to your master. I'm quite sure he won't want that."

His gaze flickered. He licked his lips. "I'll check with Sir Ignatius."

"No. You will step aside and let me walk out. You may tell him I had calmed down and promised not to tell the police. There, will that suffice?"

"Will you tell the constables, miss?"

I simply smiled, but it was hard and cold.

He edged back to the door until his back was against it. "I don't know…" He licked his lips again. "My instructions are to keep you here."

"Brompton is the closest cemetery. I know five deceased buried there. I also believe Mr. Gawler's body was taken to Bow Cemetery. It would take him only an hour to walk here."

Jenkin suddenly looked quite hot.

"His full name is Jonathon Michael Gawler, by the way," I said, plucking a middle name out of thin air. "Did you meet him when he came here? Did you see how angry he was? I'm sure he's even angrier now that he's dead. Murder victims usually are."

He flinched at every word, as if each one pricked him. "I don't know… Let me just ask…"

"Jonathon Michael Gawler," I intoned in my best eerie sounding voice.

"Don't, miss!"

"Jonathon Michael Gawler, I summon your spirit here to me."

"Miss Holloway, please, stop at once!"

"Come, Jonathon Michael Gawler. I have need of you." No spirit appeared, since I'd used an incorrect name, but Jenkin didn't know that.

He fumbled with the handle and pushed open the door. "Go," he whispered, checking the vicinity. "I'll tell Sir Ignatius that you tricked me and slipped away. For God's sake, let Gawler rest in peace before he hurts someone!"

I thanked him and hurried out, quietly shutting the front door behind me. I ran down the front steps and straight for the carriage. "Go, Seth!"

"What the devil?" he said, sitting up. "Why are you running?"

"Just go! Make haste!"

I climbed into the carriage without lowering the step and was thrown onto the seat as we took off. Seth seemed to have taken my request for haste to heart. We sped all the way home, ducking in and out of traffic with such abandon that I slid from one end of the leather seat to the other before I could grasp the strap.

Seth drove straight to the coach house behind Lichfield where Gus and Cook joined us. Between us, we quickly had the horses unharnessed and settled in the stables.

"There be tea for you," Cook said as we crossed the courtyard cobbles to the house. "And almond cake."