Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(7)



"You've been away." Swinburn eyed Lincoln with caution, as if he expected Lincoln to lash out at any moment.

"Where did you go?" Lady Harcourt asked.

"That's not your business," Lincoln said.

She stiffened. "It most certainly is! As a committee member—"

"It is not your business," he said again, punching out each word.

The muscles in her face worked as she battled not to bite back at him.

"You broke the truce," Lincoln said simply.

Swinburn held up his hands but it was Lady Harcourt who protested. "He did not! How dare you, Lincoln! How dare you suggest such a thing. Sir Ignatius has abided by the terms of the truce. That death last night had nothing to do with him or his pack."

"Swinburn?" Lincoln prompted.

"Julia is correct," Swinburn said. "That death wasn't caused by anyone from my pack. That's why I came here today—to reassure you before you jumped to the wrong conclusion. Indeed, Julia suggested I come."

"I know how you can be," she told Lincoln.

"Meaning?" Seth snapped.

She ignored him. She didn't even look his way. They'd been lovers once, after she'd been Lincoln's lover, but Seth had grown to despise her after he learned her true nature.

"I know you well, Lincoln," she went on, "and I knew you'd assume Sir Ignatius broke the truce when you read about the mauling in the papers."

"We all came to the same conclusion when we read it," I said. "Not just Lincoln."

She ignored me too. At least I was in good company. "Lincoln, you do believe us, don't you?" Lady Harcourt clasped her hands together, an earnest frown crossing her brow. "The truce still stands. Look elsewhere for the killer."

"Gawler, perhaps," Swinburn said smoothly. Everything about him was smooth, unruffled, from his neatly trimmed moustache and slicked back hair to the curve of his lips. "The murder did occur in the East End. It seems more likely it was one of his pack than mine."

"Gawler wouldn't sanction it," Lincoln said. "He's no killer."

"We're all killers, Fitzroy. It's in our nature. Some of us suppress the instinct better than others—and for longer. Can he? Is he strong enough? Is he strong enough to control his pack?"

Gawler had lost the leadership of his pack to the shape-changer known as King, but he inherited it back again after King's death. Earning the leadership by default wasn't the same as winning it through strength, the defining trait of a pack leader. Gawler's East End pack was ripe for a stronger creature to oust him and take command. Such a person may not have the same ethics as Gawler when it came to murder. We knew it, and Swinburn knew we knew it. The curve of his lips didn't falter.

He stood and buttoned up his jacket. "If you don't mind, I'm a busy man. Julia?"

She took his offered hand and rose from the sofa. She used her left hand, not her right, and wasn't wearing gloves, which was odd. Then I noticed the large diamond ring on her finger and understood why—she wanted us to see it.

"You're getting married?" Seth blurted out.

She bestowed a condescending smile on him. "Why, yes. I wasn't going to tell anyone until The Times ran the official announcement, but we might as well inform you all now. Sir Ignatius proposed and I accepted. We'll be married a few weeks after you, Lincoln."

"Huh," was all Seth said. It was difficult to gauge his feelings on the matter from that one word.

Lincoln offered stiff congratulations and I followed suit. Lady Harcourt thanked Lincoln but said nothing to me. At least I got an incline of the head from Swinburn. While his lips remained frozen into their curve, he did not look pleased to find himself shackled in matrimony to Lady Harcourt. I didn't think that was because he knew what she was really like, but more because he was an avowed bachelor.

So what could possibly have induced him to propose? According to gossip, he never settled with one woman, preferring the carefree life of a bachelor. He hadn't shown any particular interest in Lady Harcourt in the past, so why now? Perhaps she'd simply worn him down over the last two months.

"Good luck, Swinburn," Seth murmured as the couple passed him. "You're going to need it."

Lady Harcourt's eyes flashed.

"I'm sure we'll make the most of it," Swinburn said.

He sounded like he'd lost a fortune, not gained a wife.

"I know what you're going to say, Lincoln," Lady Harcourt said.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he said.

"You were going to remind me that ministry business cannot be shared with him, even when we are married. Don't worry, Sir Ignatius understands my position. He won't ask me anything and I won't tell him anything. There. The key to a happy marriage is in those words. You should take heed of them, Lincoln, Charlotte. I have more experience than you both. I was happily married to Lord Harcourt and I shall be happily married to Sir Ignatius."

Seth snorted. I didn't bother to comment. Her definition of a happy marriage probably did not equate to mine. She was happy if her husband gave her gifts and status rather than his unconditional love. I was not.

Lincoln nodded at Gus to open the door for our guests.

Swinburn stopped and patted Lady Harcourt's hand. "I'll join you in a moment, Julia."

C.J. Archer's Books