Page 28 of Ashes To Ashes
"Did he find out by accident?"
She nodded. "He came in here one night to…see me. I was asleep. When I sleep, I can't control which form I take." Her fingers twisted and locked together. "He was horrified and screamed the place down."
Lincoln didn't doubt it.
"I shifted shape to this one immediately, but it took quite some time to calm him. His screaming woke the servants, and I had to send them away before I could explain to him. He hasn't been the same since. He won't even look at me and he refuses to…visit me now."
"When did this happen?"
"Late summer. He'd been out drinking at his club. I hoped he would wake up in the morning and forget what he'd seen, or perhaps attribute it to his inebriated state. Unfortunately, he did not." She sighed and gave him a flat smile. "I have come to accept his disgust and fear of me. He won't divorce me because he has no grounds, unless he tells everyone what I truly am. He's too proud to do that. Besides, no one would believe him. So he's stuck with me."
"And you with him." Lincoln thought she'd got the rougher end of the bargain.
Her face fell. She thrust out her lower lip in a pout. "If he would get me with child, I would be quite happy."
Lincoln didn't want to hear about her domestic situation. He already knew more than he cared to know. "There are no records of you in the ministry archives, or of anyone who can become an animal like you."
"So Gilly didn't tell a soul. That's something, at least."
"I will record you in our files, but I will not announce it, if you prefer. The other committee members don't need to know, only my employees. Nor will I tell your husband about this conversation, and I ask that you don't inform him either. It's best if he doesn't know."
"Of course. He wouldn't understand. Thank you for your consideration, Mr. Fitzroy. I don't mind you creating a file about me. I quite like the idea of being recorded for posterity. I'm unique, you say?"
"As far as I am aware, but I'm beginning to think our records are woefully incomplete." He indicated the space on the bed beside her and she nodded. He sat. "May I ask you some questions about yourself?"
"Of course." Her smile was a little wobbly. "It'll be nice to talk to someone about it. Someone who isn't afraid of me, or disgusted, that is."
After half an hour, he'd learned that she could shift between her human and animal states with ease and at will; that she had animal-like hearing, vision and smell. She was a female in her other form too, and her father had told her that she should be capable of bearing children, and they would likely have some of her characteristics, although to a lesser degree. Her father had been faster and stronger than her, and his senses more acute. He had never told her why he'd been born like that, or which parent he'd inherited it from. His parents had died when he was young, so it was possible they'd never told him.
"Thank you," Lincoln said, rising. "I appreciate your honesty. And not choking me to death."
She laughed softly. "I must learn to control that urge. I forget my own strength. I'd hate to throttle a burglar."
He put his boots back on and climbed onto the sill. "Goodnight, madam."
"Would you prefer to go out through the front door?" she asked.
"This is quieter."
"It's a long way down. You'll die if you fall."
"Then I won't fall."
She laughed again. "Are you sure you're not part animal too? Perhaps a monkey?"
"Not that I am aware." He swung his legs through the window and scrambled up the pipe running along the wall.
"Goodnight," she whispered.
He glanced down when he reached the roofline. She waved up at him from the window, then went inside and drew down the sash. He swung himself up onto the roof and headed back across the city. He paused in Clerkenwell and climbed down to street level. Charlie's gang had lived in one of the dilapidated houses, the entrance to their den almost hidden from view. Lincoln had asked his contacts where to find it, back when he'd been searching for her in the summer. It had cost him a considerable sum to the right people. Few had known where the "boy" who'd escaped from Highgate Police Station lived.
He shucked off his coat, folded it, and placed it beside the boarded up hole in the wall. He knocked on the boards then leaped onto the crate and used the eaves to propel himself up to the neighboring roof. A head poked through the entrance, looked left then right, but not up. A hand darted out, grabbed the coat and disappeared back inside.
Lincoln headed home.
* * *
There wereno records of Lady Gillingham's father's birth in the General Registry Office. That didn't mean one didn't exist in another parish outside London, but since she hadn't known where he'd come from, it would be impossible to learn more about him.
