Page 45 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"The memories pain you," Lincoln said gently.
I blinked, unaware until that moment that my eyes were full. "It's not that. I just wish I could do more for Mink and the others. They have no one, and they're just children. I doubt Mink is much more than fourteen, and he's the eldest. And Weasel is sick."
"I'll send the doctor."
"They won't let him in, even if he could fit through."
He sat back and said nothing for the entire journey home.
At Lichfield, the new housekeeper, Mrs. Cotchin was in the process of putting things into order. She saw me before I managed to change out of my boy's clothes and lifted her brows, but thankfully made no comment.
"I think I'm going to like her," I said to Seth as I passed him on the landing.
"Alice?" He glanced back over his shoulder, looking for her.
"No, Mrs. Cotchin. Why did you think I spoke about Alice? And why are you gazing at her rooms like that?"
"No reason." He tried to move past me but I blocked his path.
"Seth, if you've compromised her, I'll pull out your guts myself and feed them to the horses."
"Horses don't eat human guts." He nodded past me, down the stairs. I turned to see Alice walking below, a book in hand, her attention on the page. "She wasn't in her rooms."
"No, but you were, weren't you?"
His cheeks blazed red. "I had to return something. Needle and thread."
"Then take it down to her. There's no need to sneak into her room."
"Downstairs was too far away." He didn't deny the sneaking part. "You may like Mrs. Cotchin already, but I don't think Doyle does."
"Don't change the subject." I looked down to the entrance hall where Doyle now crossed the tiled floor to answer the knock at the front door. "Why doesn't he like Mrs. Cotchin? He hardly knows her."
"Professional jealousy." He shrugged. "Either that, or he needs a woman, if you gather my meaning."
"Your meaning is crystal clear, particularly when you add a wink like that. Is it all you can think about?"
"No," he said, sounding distracted. "I can also spare a thought or two for our indomitable leader." He nodded at the door which now stood open, revealing the figure standing there in a long, black cloak, the hood pulled up. "For example, I wonder what he'll say to his mother now that she has come to visit him."
Leisl removed her hood and pitched her gaze directly at me. I felt like I'd been speared by it.
"If you'll wait here," Doyle intoned, "I'll fetch Mr. Fitzroy."
"No." Leisl lifted her crooked finger and pointed at me. "I come to see her."
Chapter 7
Lincoln had Leisl's eyes. I'd noticed their dark pitch the night of the ball, but now, in the light of day, I spotted the intelligence in their depths as she met my gaze.
"Come with me," I said, directing her to the informal parlor on the ground floor. "Doyle, please bring refreshments."
Leisl quickly took in the furnishings before choosing to sit on the sofa. She tucked her skirts close to her legs, as if afraid of taking up too much space. She clasped her brown hands in her lap and sat with her ankles together. The prim pose was utterly English.
I'd met a gypsy seer some months ago, when Lincoln and I visited a Romany camp at Mitcham Common. She'd been a lively presence, whereas Leisl had more reserve.
"I'm glad you came," I said to begin the conversation since she did not. She continued to glance around the room, her gaze settling on each vase or object before flicking to the next. If she were hoping to gain some measure of Lincoln by the way the room was decorated, she wouldn't learn much. Doyle and I had dressed it together without Lincoln's input.
"You are his woman," she said finally.
