Page 26 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"Aye," Gus muttered into his teacup.
Seth went to sip his tea but changed his mind and lowered the cup. "Imagine what a body shifter can do? If they can pretend to be anyone… My god. It would be chaos. Utter chaos."
"We don't know how easy it is for one to change at will into the likeness of another," Lincoln said. "Such a person must be rare or we'd have one listed in our archives."
"You said yourself that you've heard rumors," Seth said.
"Rumors are not proof."
"This imposter could be a relative of Old Prince Albert," Gus said. "Or a son born on the wrong side of the blanket."
"We considered that," I told them. "The Prince of Wales insists his father wasn't that sort of man."
Seth snorted and opened his mouth to comment, but caught sight of Alice watching him. He pressed his lips together and studied his biscuit with keen interest.
"Let's resolve this issue once and for all," I said. "I'll summon the Prince Consort again. I think everyone except Lincoln should leave the room. He may not be inclined to speak if strangers are present."
Alice rose and picked up her cup and saucer. "Of course. Come along, everyone."
Seth and Cook followed her out, but Gus hung back. "I want to meet him," he said. Upon Lincoln's glare, Gus snatched up a biscuit. "I'm going."
Once he shut the door, I looked to Lincoln. "Do you recall if it's Francis Albert Augustus Charles Emmanuel or Francis Albert Augustus Emmanuel Charles?"
"The former."
"I do hope he's not angry at us for calling him twice in one day. Or for asking such a personal question."
"It's irrelevant if he is. You're in command, Charlie, not him."
Easy for him to say. He didn't think royalty deserved special treatment. "Francis Albert Augustus Charles Emmanuel of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, I summon your spirit here."
The mist burst through the ceiling rose like a cloud of steam from an engine and swooped toward me.
I ducked. "Bloody hell!"
"That is no way for a lady to speak," the ghost of the Prince Consort said as the mist formed his shape by the fireplace.
My spine stiffened. "And that is no way for a gentleman to enter a room, even though he may be a ghost."
His nostrils flared. "You dare to admonish me?"
"I dare. You may be a prince but I control your spirit here. Do you understand?"
He sniffed and turned his back to me. He stretched ghostly white fingers toward the burning coal in the grate even though he could feel no cold. Lincoln gave me a nod of approval.
"Why have you summoned me here?" the prince asked. "And where is here, precisely? I do not recognize this room."
"Lichfield Towers in Highgate," I said. "It belongs to Mr. Fitzroy."
The prince glanced at Lincoln, sniffed, and turned back to the fire. "Answer my first question."
I sucked air between my teeth and prepared for an irate response. "A man approached the palace claiming to be you, sir."
He clamped his hands together behind his back. "I hope they sent the crackpot away."
"He looked remarkably like you, as it happens. So like you, in fact, that the Prince of Wales was summoned to speak to him."
"Bertie would have told the madman to take his leave."
