Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(66)

I straightened from my curtsey and clasped my shaking hands in front of me. "Lied, Your Majesty? In what way?"

She lifted a finger and the footman left. I was alone with the queen. What could she say that required no witnesses?

But I knew the answer to that.

"You are not a medium," she said. "You are something…perverted."

Well, that was a new name for me. "I believe necromancer is the word you're searching for, ma'am."

Her small, hard eyes glittered beneath the puffy flesh of her lids. "You are an abomination."

I'd been called that before, by the man I'd called Father, no less. The word had been like a spike through my heart then. But not anymore. "No, I am not. This is how God made me. I didn't choose to be a necromancer, not like some people choose to be cruel or break laws. It is how I was born. Do you think God's creation an abomination?"

Her jowls shook as she worked up a response. Finally, she spat it out. "You duped me!"

"No, ma'am, I have never duped you. Yes, I lied about being a medium but that's because I've discovered calling myself a necromancer either frightens people or disgusts them. Neither reaction gladdens me. But I have never duped you."

"You told me you summoned my dear Albert's ghost."

"I did summon him."

"You're a necromancer, not a medium! If you summoned him, why could I not see him? Well?"

I drew in a breath and wished I had a chair to sit on. I wanted to be lower, on her level. It felt odd to be higher. "A medium can only talk to spirits that have not crossed to their afterlife. They cannot call the spirit back from there. A necromancer can, if the full name of the deceased is known."

"A lie. Necromancers raise the dead, Miss Holloway. You must think me naive to pretend otherwise."

"Ma'am, you are partly correct. Necromancers are capable of directing a spirit into a dead body and controlling that body, but it's quite possible simply to summon ghosts and not take that extra step. That's what I did in the case of your late husband."

She fidgeted with the rings on her left hand and did not meet my gaze. Her lack of response bolstered my confidence.

"Did His Royal Highness The Prince Consort not prove that it was he in the room with us?" I asked gently. "I seem to recall he said something that only you and he could know as proof."

She continued to twist one of her rings, a large sapphire with a thick gold band.

"Ma'am, who told you that I'm a necromancer?"

"That is private information."

"If it was Sir Ignatius Swinburn, I must warn you that he doesn't like me or Lincoln. He'll do and say anything to have the Ministry of Curiosities shut down."

"Why?"

"Because the ministry monitors supernaturals and their activity. We keep them in check and ensure they do no harm. And he's a werewolf."

"You've claimed that before, but it's proven false. He shot a werewolf only recently and he's not likely to kill one of his own, is he?"

It was a difficult argument to counter so I moved on to the reason for my visit. "Ma'am, Lincoln has been arrested for conspiring to commit murder. He's not guilty. You know he's not guilty."

"How dare you presume to know my mind?" Her eyes flashed, her jowls firmed. "Leave, Miss Holloway, or I shall have you thrown out."

"Ma'am, please. We're due to be wed tomorrow."

"So?"

"He isn't guilty!"

"Then it will be proved in court and he'll be set free."

"Will he?" I growled, charging forward. "Will he really be freed? Or will Swinburn use you like he has used everyone else to ensure Lincoln is executed?"

She rang a little bell on her desk and one of the doors opened. "Miss Holloway's audience has ended," she told the two footmen who entered. "Please see that she leaves the premises safely."

I slapped both hands down on the desk. "Don't do this, ma'am!" One of the footmen grabbed my right arm and the other my left. They pulled me away from the desk. My heels dragged across the floor, rumpling the rug. "I'll do whatever you want!" I called out. "I'll summon your husband's ghost! Don't you want to speak to him again? I'm sure he'd like to see you. Ma'am, please, help us!"

Another footman shut the door and I was unceremoniously pushed in the opposite direction. I tried to walk but the footmen were rough and tall and my feet hardly touched the floor. Others escorted us through the palace. It would seem I was to be thrown out after all.

"What's this?" came a familiar voice. We'd just entered a long room whose only purpose seemed to be to house statues and paintings. The Prince of Wales approached from the door at the opposite end. "I heard there's been a security breach."

"Your Royal Highness," I said, trying to sound rational and not at all mad or desperate. "Please, ask them to unhand me."

"Miss Holloway? Men, halt this instant."

The footmen stopped, clearly unsure whether to continue carrying out their queen's orders or their prince's."

"I won't do anything rash," I assured them. "No one is in danger from me."