Page 50 of Her Majesty's Necromancer
"Pity," Lady Harcourt said, setting down her teacup and also rising. "I do wish to see the ballroom filled with music and dancing. It's quite a magnificent room."
"Are we done?" Marchbank asked. "I have to get ready for dinner. Lady Marchbank will expect me home to receive the guests."
General Eastbrooke chuckled. "Makes me glad I never married. The army was my wife and my children for so long, I don't think I could have adjusted to a domestic life in retirement. I like living alone."
No wife or children? But if that were the case, then which family had Lady Harcourt been referring to? I'd heard her tell Lincoln that he was protective of his family, yet it seemed he'd been brought up in General Eastbrooke's house, alone except for tutors. Surely there'd been someone there whom she called his family, even though they may not have been his natural ones. Could she mean the general's household staff? Lincoln certainly didn't treat us the way a gentleman ought to treat his servants, so perhaps that habit had begun in his childhood when he was close to the only people he saw regularly, the maids and footmen.
I wondered if he would tell me. So far he'd been close-lipped about Gurry, and only given me the bare facts about his upbringing when I asked. Perhaps I was asking the wrong questions. Lincoln had been brought up to be the ministry's leader, so his childhood was inextricably linked to the ministry itself. Perhaps if I asked about its history, I would learn something about his. If nothing else, I would gain an insight into the organization I now worked for—if he gave me answers.
"Fetch Gus to retrieve cloaks," Lincoln said to me. "Take the rest of the cake with you."
"I want another slice," Gillingham protested, holding out his empty plate to me.
Lincoln picked up the tray with the rest of the cake on it and handed it to me.
"I think it would be wise to leave now," Lady Harcourt warned Gillingham.
I left with the tray and walked quickly to the kitchen. The sponge—my sponge—was half eaten, but at least I would get some. I smiled as I recalled the look on Gillingham's face when Lincoln refused him another slice.
"What're you smiling about?" Gus asked when I reached the kitchen.
"Nothing." I set the tray down. "This is for us, but first we have to get coats for the guests. They're all leaving."
"'Bout bloody time."
"I'll make tea," Cook said as Gus and I left. "It be ready in five minutes."
We were about to enter the entrance hall when Lady Harcourt's lyrical voice carried to us. I put my arm out to stop Gus and shook my head. I didn't want to disturb them.
"He didn't mean that, Lincoln," she cooed.
"Who didn't mean what, Julia?"
"The general. You are his child, as much as any natural one could have been."
There was a slight pause after which he said, "You couldn't be more wrong."
I heard a carriage roll away outside, its wheels crunching on the gravel. Lord Marchbank, I assumed, hurrying home to his wife and dinner guests. He must have fetched his own coat. Lady Harcourt and Lincoln seemed to be alone. Gus moved past me to join them and I followed.
He retrieved the cloaks from the hooks and handed Lady Harcourt's to me. Lincoln held out his hand for it and I passed it along.
"Why did you call the meeting, Julia?" he asked her in an idle voice as he helped her into the coat.
Her gaze flicked to me and Gus and she gave a slight shake of her head.
"Answer me," Lincoln said. The idleness had vanished, replaced with iciness.
"They needed to know what you've been up to. We all do. The sketchy details you gave me this morning weren't enough, and I doubted you would elaborate if I asked."
He strode past her and held open the door. "Don't go behind my back again. Is that understood?"
The black choker at her throat moved with her heavy swallow. "I didn't go behind your back, Lincoln. I called a meeting. As a member, I am allowed to do so." Her hands shook as she pulled on her gloves, but her chin remained at a defiant angle.
The general and Gillingham entered from the parlor. "Is all well?" the general asked, eyeing each of them.
Gillingham didn't seem to notice the tension in the hall and strode up to Gus. He snatched his cloak and marched to the door.
"Perfectly," Lady Harcourt said with a smile for Eastbrooke. "Walk me out, please, Gilly."
