Page 66 of The Last Necromancer
I shrugged.
"Be sure not to do it again or you'll find yourself locked in the tower room."
"Enough!" Fitzroy growled.
Seth smacked Gus in the shoulder. "We're not going to lock you up," he said to me.
"We been looking everywhere for you," Gus hissed at me as I passed him. "Me and Seth been out of our minds with worry."
They were worried? About me? No one had worried about my wellbeing in so long that I wasn't sure how to respond. Nor was I sure I liked being monitored, now that I was supposedly free.
I patted his cheek. "That's very sweet of you. I simply wanted to be by myself."
A growl rumbled from the depths of his chest. "Be sure to take someone with you, next time you want to be alone."
Seth rolled his eyes and I smiled tightly. "I will."
With the two of them appeased, I thought my ordeal was over. I didn't see the four stiff, regal figures until I entered the house. They stood as one, a wall of dark austerity—three men in black suits and Lady Harcourt in her mourning crepe. Lord Gillingham was there, along with General Eastbrooke and another man aged fifty or so who was as tall and well-built as the general but considerably rougher in appearance, thanks to the scar on his temple and another slicing through his gray beard.
"There you are." Lady Harcourt broke ranks and held her hand out to me. I hesitated, then took it and allowed her to lead me to the men. "Gentlemen, may I present Miss Charlotte Holloway, daughter of Anselm Holloway. Charlotte, you know both General Eastbrooke and Lord Gillingham." Lady Harcourt waited, but I wasn't sure what for. Me to curtsy to them?
"You look better as a girl," the general said, offering a gruff nod as he gave me a thorough once over. "On the small side, but I dare say Fitzroy will fatten you up."
"Now that your lies have been exposed, I expect you've seen the error of your ways." Lord Gillingham leaned on his walking stick. If I kicked it out from under him, he would topple forward. "Do not lie to us again or there will be consequences. Is that understood?"
I stepped forward and touched my toe to his stick. I gave it a nudge so that he knew I could have done more if I'd wanted to. "Do not behave like an in-bred half-wit, or I might refuse to co-operate."
His eyeballs almost popped out of the sockets. "You can't speak to me that way!"
"Can't I? I'll try to remember that next time."
Eastbrooke placed his hand on Gillingham's shoulder as the lord's face turned an apoplectic shade of purple.
"And this is Lord Marchbank." Lady Harcourt pulled me away from Gillingham so roughly that I stumbled and bumped into her. Her smile never even wavered as she presented me to the new man.
Another lord. I'd thought the scarred man was an old soldier, but it seemed he was just another tosspot like Gillingham. My opinion was confirmed when he didn't offer me a smile. He merely looked down his crooked nose and said in the blandest voice, "Miss Holloway."
"My lord," I said in the same bland voice.
He met my gaze with a somewhat cool one of his own, but there was no obvious animosity in his eyes as there was in Lord Gillingham's. He seemed…indifferent. Indifference was fine with me. I felt the same toward him and the other committee members.
"Let's get on with it." Lord Gillingham's walking stick click clacked on the tiles as he headed toward the parlor. When he realized nobody followed, his fingers tightened around the knob. "Well?"
"Charlie needs to eat," Fitzroy said.
"So?"
"We're not starting without her."
"She doesn't need to be present! Indeed, she shouldn't be present."
"We are not starting without her." Fitzroy nodded at Gus, who left us.
Gillingham marched back, proving he didn't need his stick to walk. "You fly too close to the edge, Fitzroy." Only his lips and jowls moved. His jaw remained clenched. "Push us too far and you will see how things lie. You are not indispensable."
Fitzroy turned his back to him, as if he couldn't be bothered wasting his breath on an argument, and indicated I should walk on ahead. Gillingham spluttered his protest at the insult.
"It's only lunch, Gilly," the general said quietly. "We'll wait in the parlor."
