Page 60 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"She's bearing it with more tolerance than I would."
"That's because you're like me, Charlie, and such behavior from our husbands would never be tolerable." She angled a sharp glare toward Lincoln.
He lifted a brow and I had the feeling he was challenging her—daringher—to accuse him. Then his gaze darted to mine, and a small crease appeared between his brows.
Doyle entered and announced the arrival of Lady Dalhouse's coach, Lady V's ride for the evening.
"Goodnight everyone," she said, rising. "Don't wait up." She kissed the top of her son's head, much to his embarrassment.
We all watched her leave and then a collective sigh filled the room. "Your mother never fails to create a stir wherever she goes," I said to Seth.
"Why do you think I drink so much?" He got up to refill his glass, and refilled Gus's too, but Cook and Lincoln refused. "Another sherry, ladies?"
"No, thank you," I said.
"Not for me, either," Alice said. "I've had quite enough for one evening."
Seth set down the decanter. "Poppycock."
Poppycock? Since when had that word dropped into Seth's vocabulary?
"What now, Fitzroy?" Gus asked. "Want us to go to the Cat and Fiddle tonight?"
Lincoln nodded. "We three will head there shortly."
"To a Whitechapel tavern!" Alice blinked owlishly at Lincoln. "Is that wise?"
Lincoln's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Yes."
"They'll be fine," I assured her before she protested. "They've done it many times. Lincoln has even been into the Cat and Fiddle before, and no one has troubled him."
"Not after he smashed some heads together that night," Gus said with a chuckle. When he noticed no one else chuckling with him, he sobered.
"You're right to worry," Seth said, coming to Alice's side. He squatted beside her and patted her hand. "Whitechapel is a dangerous place, but we're well trained in the art of pugilism." He tapped his chin. "I'm used to taking a few blows in the process of gathering information. A bruise here and there never bothered me, and the other fellow always winds up worse off."
Cook rolled his eyes, and Gus shook his head.
Alice frowned prettily, albeit dramatically. "You're so brave! To venture into a rookery with only your fists as weapons, when the thugs will possess knives and possibly even guns. You're a hero, Seth. A true warrior."
Gus snorted a laugh and Cook grinned. "I like you more 'n' more, Alice," he said.
Seth laughed too, and didn't seem at all perturbed to have been mocked. "Yes. Well. We'll be armed with more than just our fists, of course." He backed away and plucked his glass off the table where he'd deposited it. "The thing is," he said to me, "how can we be sure Erskine isn't talking complete…poppycock?"
Poppycock again. Good lord, if he was going to act and sound like a toff around Alice, we were going to have to have conversations without her present. "I think he spoke the truth," I said.
"He had no reason to lie," Lincoln added. He set down his glass and strode across the room. "Get ready. We leave in thirty minutes."
Seth and Gus followed him out, and Cook rose to leave too.
"Just a moment," I said to him. "How is Mrs. Cotchin working out? Are you two getting along?"
He scratched his bald head. "She be too busy to bother me. I told her straight up that the kitchen be my space and the rest of the house be hers. So far she ain't caused no problems."
"Good, I'm glad everything's settled."
"She did look at me odd when I came in here and looked to be about to say something, but then Doyle spoke to her. I 'spect he'll tell her what's what with us."
"I hope he doesn't tell her too much. Not yet, at least. We don't want her fleeing with fright and telling tales."
