The Last Necromancer (23 page)

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "He hurt you?"

"Not as much as Cook hurt him. He's quite the knife thrower."

He lowered the reins, but the horse kept up its plodding pace. "Are you all right?"

"The wound isn't deep and doesn't hurt much now."

"I wasn't referring to the wound."

I blinked at him and almost reached across the gap between us and took his hand. Instead, I clutched my own hands tighter. "My nightmares will be different ones for the next little while." I laughed but he didn't join in. He continued to watch me with that blank face of his. "You must have heard me when we were sleeping in the same room. I've been told that I cry out. I was merely trying to lighten the mood by making a joke about it."

"I noticed." He'd noticed my nightmares or my attempt at a joke? He looked forward again and urged the horse to quicken with a light flick of the reins. "So you got to see the dungeon after all."

I blinked. "Er, yes, and once was enough. I hope never to have to go down there again."

"You won't." He said it with such surety that I wondered if he meant he'd made up his mind that I was leaving, and that's why I'd never see the dungeon again.

***

Cook emerged from the rear of the house when we arrived back at Lichfield. He met us near the stables before we pulled to a stop, and lifted his lantern. His eyes widened when he saw me jump down from the driver's seat. They widened even further when he spotted Gus and Seth in the back. He shook Seth's foot.

"Are they…?"

"Asleep," was all Fitzroy said.

"What'll we do with 'em, sir?"

"They can sleep in the stables tonight. The fresh air will do them good."

Cook nodded. "You know about our prisoner?"

"Charlie told me. Is he alive?"

"Aye, but he needs a doctor."

Fitzroy handed the reins to Cook. "Give Charlie anything she needs from the kitchen." To me, he said, "Will you be having a bath now?"

"Bloody hell, yes." My gutter language elicited neither a smile nor a frown.

"Then I'll see you in the morning." He walked off, but I raced after him.

"What are you going to do with Holloway?" I asked.

"Turn him over to the authorities."

I blew out a measured breath. "Oh. Good."

"You assumed I would kill him?"

"I…may have."

"I only kill those who threaten the queen and her family."

"Just the royal family? Not the government, prime minister, or those you care about?"

"I don't care about anyone. I can't afford to."

I halted but he continued. His stark words spun in my head. How could he not care about anyone? Even I'd cared about Holloway, right up until I learned he wasn't my father. In the gangs, there'd always been a boy or two that I'd tried to look out for, simply because I liked their company and didn't want to see them harmed. And in recent days, I'd come to care for Seth and Gus. And Fitzroy, although he didn't seem to want me to.

Perhaps it made it easier for him to do his job if he didn't care. A job that involved protecting England and the royal family from people like Frankenstein, who could do them harm using supernatural methods.

I frowned at his retreating back until he disappeared into the house. Something Frankenstein had said nibbled at the edges of my memory. I'd been so distracted with his declaration of fatherly love, that I'd almost forgotten it. But now his words came flooding back. I wracked my brain, until I finally remembered.

'They think anyone who isn't like them is unnatural, wrong. If that were so, then you would be a monster, and you're not…'

A monster. To some people—perhaps many—I was little better than the creatures Frankenstein had created. I'd been of service to Fitzroy and the ministry, but now Frankenstein was dead and I was no longer needed. What if the decision about my future wasn't merely a matter of whether I would stay on at Lichfield?

What if Fitzroy needed to decide whether I—a necromancer, an abomination—should be allowed to live?

I slept late. I wasn't sure how I'd managed to fall asleep at all, with so many thoughts buzzing around my head, but I felt refreshed enough to confront Fitzroy in the morning. If he refused to give me a direct answer about my future, then I would sneak away from the house and never go back. His avoidance of my questions seemed to be his way of not saying something he knew I'd dislike. I would take his silence as a sign this time, instead of finding out his intentions too late.

I opened the door to see both Seth and Gus in the corridor, leaning against the wall opposite.

"'Bout bloody time you woke up, sleepy head." Gus's craggy face creased even more with his grin. "We were thinkin' we'd have to check if you were still alive."

Seth thumped him in the arm then stepped toward me. I was swept up into a hug before I knew what was happening. He let me go, only for Gus to take over. He took longer to release me, and I had to gently shove at him before he stepped back again, a slight flush to his cheeks.

"Who're you calling sleepy head?" I teased him. "You two would have slept through the end of the world last night."

"We had a good reason." Gus grinned again. "Hear we missed all the action."

"You did."

"You saved us," Seth said, his eyes glistening. "We owe you."

"I think Fitzroy exaggerated." I laughed. "I'm not really sure who saved the day, but everyone's alive, and that's all that matters."

"You'll have to tell us the full story," Seth said. "Death told us so little."

"Ain't too chatty this mornin'," Gus said. "Committee's here."

My heart dove. I wouldn't get an opportunity to talk to him alone until after they left, and that could be hours. His decision might also be swayed by them. Or perhaps not. He'd been adamant that he alone made all the ministry's decisions. Whether that would work in my favor or not was yet to be determined.

"Is Holloway still in the cellar?"

Gus shook his head. "Death took him this morning." At my raised brows, he added, "Fitzroy handed him over to the police."

"He'll be charged with attempted murder against Cook," Seth added.

Not me. Was that because I wouldn't be at Lichfield for much longer? Or was there another reason?

I couldn't fathom it all. Not without knowing where my future lay.

"Where is the committee convening?"

"The library."

"It seems I'll have to wait to speak to Fitzroy. Would you mind bringing me up something to eat? And some fresh water for washing too. Thank you." I touched their arms. "I'm so glad you two aren't any worse for your ordeal."

"Wouldn't want my pretty face smashed in, eh?" Gus chuckled as he walked off.

I shivered, reminded of the third man, whose soul I'd coaxed back into his body.

Seth leaned down and pecked my forehead. "I'll bring up fresh bandages for your wound too."

I fingered the cloth at my throat and watched him retreat along the corridor. His footsteps finally receded enough that I felt safe to follow at a distance in bare feet. I had only minutes before they returned, so I quickly crept to the library door. The hum of male voices on the other side was unmistakable, but I couldn't make out what they said.

Until Lord Gillingham, in his distinctive sneering growl, said, "She's of no use to us now!"

I cracked the door open just enough for the voices to tumble out to me, but I couldn't see anyone. "You can't send her back to the streets," Lady Harcourt said. "It's our moral duty to see that she has a home to go to."

"Why?" Gillingham countered. "She's not our responsibility."

"Gilly," the general chided.

"She's alone in the world." Lady Harcourt's usually serene voice turned crisp. "She needs guidance at this vulnerable age."

"She refused your offer of guidance, Julia," General Eastbrooke said. "I must admit, the chit doesn't seem to know what's good for her."

"We can't force her to live with me."

"But
why
doesn't she want to live with you?"

"I don't know."

"She's not used to living in a grand household," Fitzroy said. "There are rules and a specific way of doing things, whether she comes to you as a maid or a companion. It'll stifle her and she knows it. She's used to doing as she pleases."

"Then it's time she learned some discipline," Gillingham barked.

"Lincoln's right," Lady Harcourt said on a sigh. "More discipline will send her running away."

"I don't see a problem with that. Either she takes you up on your offer or we get rid of her. That's my advice."

"Get rid of her?" Fitzroy asked, tone icy.

"You know what I mean."

"No. I don't."

The leather of a chair creaked. "She's a magnet for madmen, a danger to everyone. Frankenstein may be dead, but there will be others. You know that, Fitzroy. She cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of unscrupulous types who'll use her as a weapon against us."

"Gilly, are you saying what I think you're saying?" the general asked.

"I am," he said darkly. "There's no need to spell it out."

Oh God. He meant to have me killed!

I sat back on my haunches and blinked through the small gap into the library. My heart had stopped beating. My sore throat ached more. I rose to my feet, steadying myself with a hand on the doorframe.

Run. Get away.

The round of protests from the other committee members made me pause, then Fitzroy's voice stopped me altogether. His harsh growl cut through the heated discussion.

"You won't touch her. None of you. And I will not do your dirty work on this. Is that clear, Gillingham?"

Someone—Gillingham?—made a strangled sound.

"Is that clear?" Fitzroy snarled.

"Yes, yes!"

The leather creaked again. Footsteps paced across the floor, but not near the door. Waiting for someone to speak was painful.

"Then what is to be done with her?" Lord Marchbank's calm words broke the tension. "Gillingham is right, in that she cannot be allowed to fall into our enemies’ hands. For that reason alone, I don't think sending her to Lady Harcourt's house is a good idea. There are too many people coming and going."

"What do you propose, March?" the general asked.

"The village near my Yorkshire estate is far from civilization. She'll be out of harm's way there. I know a kind, elderly couple who will take her in, as long as we pay them a sum each month."

Yorkshire! That was so far away!

"Exile," Lady Harcourt said flatly. "I think that might work."

"Agreed," the general said. "But not Yorkshire. It's too close. And what if she is seen performing her necromancy?"

"She won't
perform
necromancy by accident," Fitzroy said.

"I do think exile is a good idea," Lady Harcourt said. "But perhaps in another country."

Another country! Why not just send me to the wilds of Africa and let the lions feast on me?

Eastbrooke agreed with her. "Leave it to me. Have her pack a few things now, Fitzroy. She can come with me today, and I'll have her on a ship by nightfall."

Today!

"To where?" Fitzroy asked.

"It's best if you don't know. The fewer people who do, the better."

"I disagree."

"An asylum would suffice," Gillingham grumbled. "That's where the freaks and deranged go. Hide them away, that's what I say. Does anyone know of an asylum in another country? Somewhere they don't allow visitors, preferably."

I gasped then shut my mouth. I listened for signs that they'd heard me, but none came. Lady Harcourt was speaking again.

"She doesn't belong in an asylum. General Eastbrooke, I like your idea of exile. I trust you have somewhere in mind?"

"I do. Pleasant little island I came across in my time in the army. It'll do nicely, but that's all I'll tell you about the place. Best if you don't know any more."

"I'll see that she's ready to—"

"No." Fitzroy's tone chilled me to the bone, even as my heart lifted to hear him speak out for me.

"No?" Gillingham sneered. "You dare to refuse the general's suggestion? If you ask me, she's getting off lightly."

"I'm not asking you. I'm not asking any of you for your opinions. Exile is not a good idea in this case."

"What?" Eastbrooke exploded. "Have you gone soft?"

"Let him speak," Marchbank said. "Go on, Fitzroy. What do you propose?"

"You're all correct in that our enemies will try to use her against us," Fitzroy said. "That's why we need to keep her close, not push her away. We can't keep her out of their hands if we can't see her."

"Don't tell me you want to keep her here," the general scoffed.

"I do, for two reasons. To protect her from anyone who would use her, and to study her."

"Study her! You have gone mad."

My sentiments precisely. Study me? As in subject me to tests and interrogation? I wouldn't be a party to that.

"No reason an asylum can't do the same thing," Gillingham said. "They have effective methods for
studying
patients."

"She will remain here," Fitzroy said. "Where I can keep an eye on her."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Lady Harcourt said. "This is a house full of men, for one thing."

Gillingham snorted. "You're worried about the virtue of a vile little whoring necromancer? My dear lady, there is no need for charity in this instance. The girl is an aberration."

"That is quite enough," Lady Harcourt snipped. "She is a human being, and an attractive girl. Living with a group of men is asking for trouble."

"I would hope, Julia, that you know me better than to think I would allow something unfortunate to befall her under my own roof." Fitzroy's frosty words were followed by silence.

The door suddenly opened and I fell backward onto my bottom. Fitzroy towered above me, blocking my view. I couldn't see anything past him, but more importantly, the others couldn't see past him to me either.

He shut the door, reached down and grabbed my arm. He hauled me up and marched me toward the service area at the back of the house. His grip was hard but not bruising, but his strides were long and I had difficulty keeping up. He didn't slow his pace as we passed Seth and Gus, carrying trays and linens. They stared at us, but didn't ask for an explanation. Perhaps Fitzroy's glower silenced them.

He marched me out to the rear courtyard, but didn't stop until we reached the orchard where he finally let me go. I rubbed my arm and glared at him. He glared back.

"Hear enough?" he snapped.

"I was only there a moment."

"Liar."

I bristled. "Very well. I heard sufficient to know that Lord Gillingham wants me dead, the others think I ought to be exiled, and you want to dissect my brain for science."

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Surely he couldn't be smiling at me. I had been entirely serious. "Your brain will be safe from me."

"So, you have decided. Will they abide by your decision?"

"Yes. The real question is, will you?"

I blinked at him. "It's not as if I have too many other choices."

"There is always a choice."

"Then I choose to stay."

A few heartbeats passed before he said, "You haven't asked me what you'll do here."

"Very well. What will I do? Aside from be your scientific experiment."

"Be my maid. There'll be a great deal of work. It won't be easy. I require you to dust, mop the floors, do the laundry—"

"I know what a maid does, and I accept the position. I don't expect to live on your charity. I'll work hard. You won't regret the decision."

"I never have regrets."

"Lucky you."

"Don't agree, yet. Not without knowing everything."

"Everything? Are there rooms I've yet to see that are filled with mud?"

"I meant everything about me."

"I know you'll be difficult to live with." I tilted my chin, daring him to counter me. He didn't. "I know you have terrible moods, and I'll do best to avoid you when you're in a temper."

His eyes narrowed. "I admit that I have a temper, but I think I'm able to keep it in check."

I snorted, earning a glare from him.

"There is something aside from my temper that you need to know." He crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you recall that man who accosted you the day I set you down in Whitechapel?"

"He's difficult to forget. What about him?"

"I paid him to scare you."

My mouth flopped open. "Paid him? You mean…" I thought back to that night. The brute had mentioned receiving money, and his spirit had accused Fitzroy of tricking him. Bloody hell…

"I needed you to change your mind and help me find Frankenstein. I needed you to see that you were better off with me than living on the streets."

I slapped his cheek as hard as I could. It stung my hand and left a satisfying red mark on his skin, but not enough to quell the rage boiling within me. "He tried to rape me! What's wrong with you, that you would do such a thing?" I shouted.

He merely watched me from beneath long, thick lashes, but his face didn't change. Nor did he speak.

"You killed that man." I pressed a hand to my churning stomach. "You stabbed him to death, and yet he had done exactly as you asked."

"No, he didn't. He went too far. He was only meant to scare you."

"He succeeded."

"He wasn't supposed to go through with it and hurt you."

"Is that so? You thought you could control such a man?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Perhaps it's your fault that he almost succeeded," I snapped. "Perhaps he misunderstood you. Or were you just slow in reacting and rescuing me? Rescuing," I sneered before he could answer. "My God, Fitzroy." I leaned back against the trunk of an apple tree and drew in deep breaths to steady my frayed nerves. "How
could
you?"

Not only had he paid a monster to
scare
me, he'd then gone on to kill him. If he was capable of such things, what else was he capable of doing?