Ashes To Ashes: A Ministry of Curiosities Novella (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 5) by C.J. Archer Page A
Authors: C.J. Archer
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that very determined chin again and Lincoln braced himself. She hadn't given up yet. "But I should warn you that you are not as in command here as you think you are."
"I pay everyone's wages. I am in complete control."
She waved a hand. "Tosh. You may pay them, but that doesn't give you control. When I look at you, all I see is a man running hither and thither, and treating his friends like they're staff."
"They are staff," he growled.
"Seth is not." She stated it as if it were a fact, without malice or pomposity. "He's your friend, and he's trying to help you, but you're making it impossible for him and that other fellow. You're too busy dashing off chasing shadows and trying not to look in at yourself."
He stiffened. If he simply used brute strength, he could barrel past her. He doubted that would silence her, however. She'd probably shout her opinion at him until she was hoarse.
Her face softened and her eyes turned gentle. He didn't know her well, but the change in her worried him. He preferred her vitriol to her pity. "You're scared of what you'll see," she said. "That's why you don't want to look."
The blood chugged sluggishly through his veins. His extremities turned cold and he curled his fingers into fists to warm them. "I know what I'll see," he told her. A cold, dead heart. Gus had told him so.
"It doesn't have to be like this. Seth said you changed with her."
"This is how I am and how I must be." His jaw hurt to speak. Everything hurt. "People depend upon me. The country depends on me. I have ministry affairs to see to, and introspection is a waste of time and energy that could be spent working."
Most people would back away from him now, seeing the signs of his temper rising. But not Lady Vickers, damn her. She was like Charlie in that respect. "Introspection is how we become better people, and how we learn from our mistakes," she said.
"I don't make mistakes."
"From what I've seen and heard, you've made a very big one, and you know it. That's why you don't like to be introspective. Looking inward will show you that you failed."
"I have not failed."
To his surprise, she lowered her gaze and stepped aside. Not quickly or with shaking hands, but because she had no more to say to him. He stalked past her and tried to dampen his temper, but he hadn't succeeded by the time he slammed his door. He shed his day clothes and put on the ones he used for when he wanted to walk through the slums unnoticed.
By the time he tied the gray cloth around his neck, he'd decided Lady Vickers was a crackpot and meddler. She wasn't worth wasting his time on. He had more important business to tend do. Ministry business.
* * *
S eth and Lincoln stopped at the mews behind Gillingham's house to pick up Gus. "Nothing to report," he told Lincoln as he settled on the seat opposite. "He ain't been out yet today. So where we goin'?"
"Flower and Dean Street."
Gus stroked the scar stretching from his cheek to the corner of his eye. "Last time we went to them parts, the brougham almost got stolen."
"We'll leave it at the Pig and Whistle's stables. The ostler knows me. It's not much of a walk from there." Lincoln told him everything Billy the Bolter had reported and then outlined his plan.
"Thank you, sir," Gus said at the end.
"For what?"
"For tellin' me. Time was, you wouldn't have said nothin' about the whole plan, just my part."
Lincoln turned to the window and tried to think back, but it felt like another life, another century. He wasn't that same man anymore. The revelation was like a bolt of lightning, shocking him to his core.
He'd barely recovered by the time they arrived at the Pig and Whistle. He paid the hunchbacked ostler to mind the horses and coach, then headed to Flower and Dean Street with Gus and Seth. This part of Whitechapel was infamous for the violent Ripper murders, and a sense of unease and mistrust flowed from the passersby, hitting his senses with force.
Lincoln felt conspicuous, even though he'd
"I pay everyone's wages. I am in complete control."
She waved a hand. "Tosh. You may pay them, but that doesn't give you control. When I look at you, all I see is a man running hither and thither, and treating his friends like they're staff."
"They are staff," he growled.
"Seth is not." She stated it as if it were a fact, without malice or pomposity. "He's your friend, and he's trying to help you, but you're making it impossible for him and that other fellow. You're too busy dashing off chasing shadows and trying not to look in at yourself."
He stiffened. If he simply used brute strength, he could barrel past her. He doubted that would silence her, however. She'd probably shout her opinion at him until she was hoarse.
Her face softened and her eyes turned gentle. He didn't know her well, but the change in her worried him. He preferred her vitriol to her pity. "You're scared of what you'll see," she said. "That's why you don't want to look."
The blood chugged sluggishly through his veins. His extremities turned cold and he curled his fingers into fists to warm them. "I know what I'll see," he told her. A cold, dead heart. Gus had told him so.
"It doesn't have to be like this. Seth said you changed with her."
"This is how I am and how I must be." His jaw hurt to speak. Everything hurt. "People depend upon me. The country depends on me. I have ministry affairs to see to, and introspection is a waste of time and energy that could be spent working."
Most people would back away from him now, seeing the signs of his temper rising. But not Lady Vickers, damn her. She was like Charlie in that respect. "Introspection is how we become better people, and how we learn from our mistakes," she said.
"I don't make mistakes."
"From what I've seen and heard, you've made a very big one, and you know it. That's why you don't like to be introspective. Looking inward will show you that you failed."
"I have not failed."
To his surprise, she lowered her gaze and stepped aside. Not quickly or with shaking hands, but because she had no more to say to him. He stalked past her and tried to dampen his temper, but he hadn't succeeded by the time he slammed his door. He shed his day clothes and put on the ones he used for when he wanted to walk through the slums unnoticed.
By the time he tied the gray cloth around his neck, he'd decided Lady Vickers was a crackpot and meddler. She wasn't worth wasting his time on. He had more important business to tend do. Ministry business.
* * *
S eth and Lincoln stopped at the mews behind Gillingham's house to pick up Gus. "Nothing to report," he told Lincoln as he settled on the seat opposite. "He ain't been out yet today. So where we goin'?"
"Flower and Dean Street."
Gus stroked the scar stretching from his cheek to the corner of his eye. "Last time we went to them parts, the brougham almost got stolen."
"We'll leave it at the Pig and Whistle's stables. The ostler knows me. It's not much of a walk from there." Lincoln told him everything Billy the Bolter had reported and then outlined his plan.
"Thank you, sir," Gus said at the end.
"For what?"
"For tellin' me. Time was, you wouldn't have said nothin' about the whole plan, just my part."
Lincoln turned to the window and tried to think back, but it felt like another life, another century. He wasn't that same man anymore. The revelation was like a bolt of lightning, shocking him to his core.
He'd barely recovered by the time they arrived at the Pig and Whistle. He paid the hunchbacked ostler to mind the horses and coach, then headed to Flower and Dean Street with Gus and Seth. This part of Whitechapel was infamous for the violent Ripper murders, and a sense of unease and mistrust flowed from the passersby, hitting his senses with force.
Lincoln felt conspicuous, even though he'd
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