Page 25 of Ashes To Ashes
"You know what the problem between us is," Gillingham hissed, "and it has nothing to do withmeand everything to do with your…true form."
True form?
"I know you find me ugly underneath this skin."
"I find you abhorrent. Disgusting. Ever since I discovered what you are back in the summer, I can't bring myself to look at you. You duped me, Harriet. You and your father. I don't like being tricked and I certainly don't like you."
Lincoln had to strain to hear her response. "You used to."
"That was before, when I thought you were…human."
"I am!"
Gillingham snorted. "Look at you. You're not even shivering."
"We are married in the eyes of the law, Gilly, and you have no grounds to divorce me, not without raising awkward questions I know you don't want asked. We might as well make the best of it for now."
"What do you want from me, Harriet? Why are you pestering me?"
"I want children. I want to bear your heir."
Gillingham made a choking sound. "Is this a joke?"
"I'm willing to do anything, Gilly. I'll retain this form during intimacy, I promise. I'll wear whatever you want me to wear and say what you want me to say. Please, husband. Please. I want to be a mother so desperately."
"My god," he sneered. "You think a vile creature like you ought to breed? Are you mad?"
Her sharp intake of breath pierced the cold night air. "You would deny me motherhood? Do you hate me that much?"
"I'm repulsed by you, and I certainly don't want my children to be anything like you. I'd rather the Gillingham line die out than be tainted by whatever flows through your veins. I'm making it my life's work to see that unnaturals like you become extinct. Do you understand, Harriet?"
Lady Gillingham sobbed loudly.
The curtain was suddenly thrust aside, into Lincoln's face, so that he didn't immediately see who came into the room from the balcony. He stood still as the heavy velvet resettled in time for him to watch Gillingham march out of the room, his walking stick not even touching the floor. A moment later, Lady Gillingham followed, a handkerchief dabbing at her nose. Her gown was of a style that revealed her bare shoulders, yet she didn't shiver or look at all cold.
Like her husband, she didn't notice Lincoln standing silently in the shadows at the edge of the curtain. After a deep sigh, she too left the room, as poised and elegant as a lady of her station ought to be. Yet according to her husband, she was disgusting, unnatural—inhuman, even.
So if Lady Gillingham wasn't human, what was she?
* * *
"Her name isn'tin the ministry files." Lincoln threw his jacket on the bed and loosened his tie. The damn thing had felt like a noose for at least the last hour as he'd warred between leaving the ball and staying longer to learn more. In the end, he'd left when Lady Vickers announced she wanted to retire. Apparently she'd won far too much at cards and nobody wanted to play against her anymore. She had also overheard a thing or two about her son that she hadn't liked.
When she'd confronted Seth, he'd simply shrugged broad shoulders and said, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"Want us to check again, sir?" Gus asked. "Per'aps she's under her maiden name."
"She isn't." Lincoln tossed his shirt onto the clothes piling up on the bed.
With a sigh, Seth straightened them like a fussy valet. "How do you know?"
"I know every name in our files by heart."
Seth grunted. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Are you sure you overheard Gillingham refuse his wife's advances?" Gus asked. "Seems strange to me. She's a pretty little thing. Can't imagine any fellow not wantin' her in his bed."
Lincoln glared at him. "You doubt me?"
