Page 53 of The Last Necromancer
He carried me out of the room. Lady Harcourt followed behind us, her steps short and quick.
"Put me down!" I shouted.
"Don't bother screaming," he said as he descended the stairs. "Cook, Seth and Gus won't help you."
I called him every crude name I could think of, loudly, and pounded his back with my fists. Nothing made him stop, but at least he would sport bruises for a week. Not only did he not stop, he didn't slow down. Indeed, his pace quickened, and his steps became jauntier as we reached the next flight of stairs. It made for a very uncomfortable ride.
"You're deliberately being rough now," I snapped.
"This is my natural way of descending stairs."
"It is not. You've got the smoothest stride of anyone I've seen. It's why you're able to sneak up on people." I tried to twist to get a better look at him, but it was impossible. I could only see the back of his head. His unruly black hair was tied up with a leather strip. Perhaps if I pulled it…
Lady Harcourt clicked her tongue. "I'll need to fix her hair in the carriage."
"You're not coming with us," he said.
"I must! She needs a chaperone!"
He reached the base of the staircase and turned toward her as she stopped alongside us. I suspected he was bestowing one of his chilling glares on her because she stepped away.
"It's a mistake, Lincoln," she said as he carried me outside. I took that to mean she'd given in.
We had to wait a few minutes for the carriage to be brought around. When it stopped, and Seth opened the door, Fitzroy dislodged me from his shoulder onto the bench seat. I bounced and hit my arm against the other side. Before I'd recovered my balance, he'd climbed after me and shut the door.
The coach took off with a jerk. I lunged for the door, but Fitzroy was too quick. He barred it with his arm.
"You're a prick." I sank into the corner and pushed the hairpins that had come loose back in place.
"It's not too late to change your mind," he said. "Help me willingly and you can live at Lichfield Towers under my protection."
I snorted. "You cannot guarantee my safety once he learns what I am. He'll not stop until he catches me."
"Then I'll have to stop him before he catches you."
"How?"
"By killing him."
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and tore my gaze away from his icy one to stare out the window. We left the Lichfield Towers estate, and drove past Highgate Wood, onto streets lined with shops and taverns. People went about their business, blissfully unaware that a necromancer was in their midst.
"And what will happen to me if you stop him?" I asked. "What will you do with the inconvenient necromancer?"
"I don't know yet. Perhaps I'll employ you as a maid."
"I don't want to be anyone's maid."
"The work won't be too hard."
"I'm not afraid of hard work. I don't want a master. I haven't had one in years, and that's the way I like it."
"Every woman has a master."
"Lady Harcourt doesn't."
"That's different. She's a widow, and a wealthy one at that."
I said nothing as we passed by the Highgate Cemetery gates. The breeze rustled the leaves and it began to rain. A small dog scampered away from the curb, afraid of the horses thundering hooves and the carriage’s clattering wheels. Its brown fur was bedraggled and knotted, its eyes weepy as it watched us pass. Sadness welled inside me at the pathetic creature.
