Page 52 of The Last Necromancer
"She cannot stay here." Lady Harcourt came to stand beside me. She was taller than me, but I liked to think I presented a fiercer façade.
"If you make me go with her, I will find a way to escape," I said. "It'll be easier in a big household with more servants. Besides, won't they grow suspicious about the girl locked away in a room?"
Fitzroy lifted a brow then nodded. "I agree."
"She cannot stay here, Lincoln." Lady Harcourt's tone turned crisp. "Look at her!"
What was that supposed to mean? "This was a pointless exercise." I went to remove the bonnet and veil, but Fitzroy grasped my hand. I glared at him.
He glared back. "Leave it on."
"Why?" I spat. "I am not going to help you, which means you are going to keep me here indefinitely, locked away where no one can see me. Or you will let me go. What does it matter how I dress?"
"The ministry is not a charity," Fitzroy said in a voice that sent a chill skittering across my skin. "And I am not a kind person. You will do as I say and help us."
"Or?"
"There is no 'or.'"
"Ha!"
Lady Harcourt bustled past me and laid a hand on his arm. She searched his face, her brow deeply furrowed. "Lincoln? What are you going to do?"
He met my gaze over the top of her head. It was masked; unreadable. He pulled away from her and strode to the door. "In here," he growled at Seth and Gus.
The two guards stopped dead just inside the doorway. Neither could take their eyes off me. Their warm, lingering gazes brought heat to my cheeks and I wished I could hide beneath my hair again.
"Stop staring," I snapped. "Haven't you seen a girl before?"
"Um, I, um, didn't know you was so pretty." Gus no longer looked at me but at his feet; most of his words were mumbled into his chest.
Seth cleared his throat and sketched a short bow. "That dress is very fetching on you, Charlie. Er, Charlotte. Miss Charlotte."
"It's a servant's dress and plain black," I said. "It is the least fetching outfit imaginable. And you can continue to call me Charlie. Or better yet, don't speak to me at all."
Seth's face fell, and I regretted my harsh manner. It wasn't his fault that I was in this predicament. It was entirely Fitzroy's.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Lady Harcourt raising her brows at him. See, she mouthed.
"Prepare the carriage," Fitzroy ordered his men.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked as Gus and Seth left.
"Out." To Lady Harcourt, he said, "Does she have gloves?"
"I'll fetch them." She disappeared into the bedroom.
"I am not going anywhere with you," I told Fitzroy.
He said nothing, which worried me. I'd found he was far more dangerous when he didn't speak.
Lady Harcourt returned and handed me a pair of black gloves. "It's warm out and you won't require a coat." When I neither put on the gloves nor moved, she lifted her brows at Fitzroy. "Now what?"
Fitzroy put out his hand. I hesitated then placed the gloves on his palm. "What are you—?"
He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. One arm clamped across my kicking legs like a steel barrier, the other still clutched the gloves.
"Let me go!" I tried to straighten, but the corset not only made breathing difficult, it limited my movement. I squirmed instead, intent on not making it easy for him, but it made little difference. Besides, I was very aware that my bottom was close to his face. I might not be much of a lady, or want to be one, but wriggling my rear end in his face was not something I could bring myself to do. I stilled.
