Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(61)

"And she's dead. She killed herself."





Chapter 13





I plopped down on the chair and gawped at Lincoln. He kept his gaze on Seth.

"How?" Cook asked at the same time Gus said, "What happened?"

"According to witnesses, she threw herself into the path of a fast moving omnibus on Oxford Street."

I picked up my teacup but set it down again. Lady Harcourt, dead. I couldn't fathom it. "We only saw her this morning," I murmured. "We argued but she didn't seem any different. Certainly not like someone who would take her own life."

"She was a fighter," Seth agreed. "She pulled herself up from nothing and made herself into the person she always dreamed of being. I can't believe she'd do this. She wouldn't just give up."

"It must have been an accident," I said. "Perhaps someone bumped her in the hustle and bustle. It's a busy street for pedestrians and coaches alike."

"She threw herself," Gus said. "That ain't an accident."

"Or she was pushed." My pronouncement was followed by a deafening silence. "I could summon her spirit to make sure."

"No," Lincoln said. "I, for one, think suicide is the more likely explanation."

Alice and Lady Vickers entered and asked why we looked so glum. We told her, and they both sat heavily.

"We argued with her," Alice muttered. "Do you think…?"

"No," I said, taking her hand. "I've argued with her many times, as have others, and she has always fought back."

"She did greet us in the most waspish manner. You're right. We can't take blame for her state of mind."

"It's more likely to have been building over time," Lady Vickers said, accepting a cup of tea from Cook. "Ever since the newspapers revealed her past at the Alhambra, she's been sliding into social oblivion. The gossips have been relentless, the invitations have dried up, and she's become an outcast wherever she goes. Many have delighted in her downfall. I thought they were vicious toward me, but I've managed to regain some measure of what I lost. She could not and never would."

"Because she wasn't born privileged," Seth said with a shake of his head. "God, I hate them all. And you want me to marry into that, Mother. I won't."

She wisely said nothing.

"Swinburn was her only hope for a secure future," Alice said with a pained look at me. "She believed marriage to him would win back some of the regard she lost."

"And then we told her Swinburn is using her." I groaned and buried my head in my hands. "That he'll use her then discard her when he has what he wants. Perhaps it is my fault."

A chorus of denials followed, but it was Lincoln's quietly insistent voice that cut through them all. "You are not to blame, Charlie." His warm lips caressed my forehead. "Everything that happened to her she has brought on herself. She chose to be cruel to you and others, and now she chose to end her life. She could have trodden a different path many times, but she did not. I won't mourn her. You shouldn't either."

"Nor me," Seth said.

"Good riddance, I say." Lady Vickers shrugged and picked up her teacup. "I don't care if that makes me sound horrid. I won't speak nicely of her simply because she's dead."

"Do you think Swinburn got what he wanted from her and did set her aside?" Alice asked no one in particular. "Do you think that's what drove her to suicide?"

It was entirely possible, even likely, and I pinned my hopes on that being the case. As much as I loathed her, it made my stomach churn to think my words had caused her such despair that she felt the need to end her life.

A pounding on the front door echoed through the house. My heart tripped.

Alice gasped. "The army!"

"Stay here," Seth said as he, Lincoln and Gus rushed out of the kitchen.

Alice and I followed, neither of us prepared to take orders until we knew what we were up against. We raced through the passageway and emerged into the entrance hall as Lincoln opened the door.

Andrew Buchanan stumbled inside, his fist raised to strike the door again. All three men could have caught him but none did. He stumbled to the floor and lay sprawled on the tiles, moaning.

Seth nudged Buchanan in the ribs with his boot. "Get up."

Buchanan rolled over onto his back and winced. His eyes were swollen and his nose red. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead and he reeked of gin.

"Fuck you, Vickers, you cock sucking— Ow!"

Gus leveled his boot over Buchanan's face. "There are ladies present. Talk like that again and I'll smash that pretty nose of yours."

"Slum scum." Buchanan chortled. "That rhymes."

"What do you want?" Lincoln snapped.

Buchanan put his hand up but no one went to his aid so he rocked and rolled himself into a sitting position. He swayed and belched. "I want a drink."

"You've had enough." Lincoln put out his hand and after staring at it for several heartbeats, Buchanan took it. Lincoln hauled him up and only let go when Buchanan appeared steady on his feet.

"Julia's dead." Buchanan's voice sounded raw, scratchy. His face crumpled but a deep breath helped him regain composure.