Page 41 of From the Ashes
"Enough, Gilly," Lord Marchbank said. "There's no need for name calling."
I couldn't quite hear Gillingham's grumbled response.
"The problem remains," Lady Harcourt said, "that we don't know where these people are now. Please tell us you had them followed, Lincoln. It would ease our minds greatly."
"They've been instructed to report their movements to me," he said.
"Good."
"Voluntarily?" Eastbrooke asked. Lincoln must have nodded, because he added, "Why would they do so?"
"You've put a lot of trust in them," Marchbank said.
"Most realize the dangers of their own powers," Lincoln told them. "They understand that a monitoring system is necessary and of long term benefit to the nation."
Someone made a scoffing sound. I'd wager it was Gillingham.
"Will you keep their whereabouts to yourself?" Marchbank asked.
"I will. I made them a promise that no one else would be told."
"That doesn't include us," Gillingham said.
"No onewill be told. Is that clear?"
A pause then, "Are you implying you don't trust us?" Gillingham spluttered.
"I don't trust anyone."
A more weighty statement could not have fallen from Lincoln's lips. It was followed by complete silence, but it lasted mere seconds, before all four committee members voiced their opposition. It was difficult to distinguish one from the other, but the angry tones couldn't be clearer.
"He's mad," Gillingham said once the other voices ceased. "You've gone soft, Fitzroy. It's that necromancer girl's influence. First you send her away without telling us where, and now everyone else who poses a threat to London."
I sucked in a breath and pressed my ear firmly to the door, wishing I could hear Lincoln's reaction. But if he did react, it wasn't loud enough. The truth was, Lincolnhadsoftened compared to when I'd first met him. Back in the summer, he wouldn't have warned the supernaturals. He would not have seen them as people to protect, but simply names in a file to be monitored. HadIsoftened him?
"Do be quiet, Gilly," Marchbank snapped. He sounded more irritated than I'd ever heard him. The man's feathers were rarely ruffled. Perhaps he simply didn't like being told he was untrustworthy. I wondered if Lincoln would tell him later that he was the only one not under suspicion, thanks to the fact he'd not been at Brooks's Club the day the murderer employed Rampling.
"You're letting him get away with this?" Gillingham cried. "My God, March, it's not on. Not on at all, I tell you. There's no place for autonomous behavior in the ministry. He is supposed to act under our direction, not outside it. We should have known he'd end up this way, raised as he was, alone in your household, General. He wasn't trained to consider others."
It was the most insightful thing to ever come out of Gillingham's mouth. Lincoln had indeed been brought up alone to be an unemotional leader. Although saying Lincoln had beentrainedto think that way, like a dog, was putting it coldly.
"Are you accusing me of raising him improperly?" Eastbrooke bellowed.
"Stop it!" Lady Harcourt's high-pitched command cut through me like broken glass. "Enough bickering. I cannot cope with this at the moment. It's trying my nerves."
"Your private life and its effect on your nerves is hardly our problem, Julia," Gillingham shot back. "Do not bring it into ministry meetings."
Lady Harcourt's response could not be heard.
"The fact remains, you think one of us is the murderer," the general challenged.
"I haven't formed any opinions," Lincoln said. "It may be one of you, or it may not be."
"Outrageous." Gillingham's mutter didn't sound too far from the door. I hoped Gus still stood there, ready to knock in warning if anyone wanted to leave. "I've never been so insulted."
He ought to hear the insults we hurled at him. They got quite colorful at times. I'm sure Seth and Gus were both biting their lips to stop their smiles.
"We can't force him to tell us," Eastbrooke said.
