Ashes & Alchemy Read online

  Seb nodded. “And we’ll get some dry clothes on Mrs....”

  “Sh-shaw,” she supplied. “Min-n-erva Shaw.”

  “Mrs. Shaw. Come with me. Mrs. Claypoole will have something you can borrow.” He didn’t mention the Claypooles’ absence, though the neighboring housekeeper probably already knew.

  “Parrish! I need you,” Dr. Grant shouted from the back.

  “Go.” Seb took the Shaw woman’s arm. “We’ll be back in a flash with the little girl.”

  “I’ll make sure there’s a bed for her.” With that she bustled away.

  “Well, come along, Mrs. Shaw.” He offered her his arm as they moved out to the stoop. “I assume time is of the essence.”

  Once back in his home, he pulled her through the kitchen, down the stairs to the servant’s cozy suite. “My housekeeper is away at present, but she certainly would want me to lend you some dry clothing. They’ll be too big, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t care,” she whispered. She’d warmed enough that her voice had stopped shaking but had taken on a harsh, husky rasp. “I can go like this.”

  Seb shook his head. “No. You can’t, or the doctor will have two patients on his hands and I doubt I can carry both of you at once. Help yourself to the cupboards in here, while I go put on some outdoor clothing myself. Five minutes.” He held her gaze until he saw compliance in hers. Blast it, but those eyes of hers could drown a man. “Do you need any help with buttons or laces?”

  “No.” She’d already stripped off her sodden cloak and hat. Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the buttons at the throat of her blouse. “Just hurry.”

  Thank God. Like the coward he was when it came to women, Seb turned and fled as fast as his bad leg would carry him.

  * * *

  Minerva watched the door slam behind her reluctant rescuer as she all but tore off her shirtwaist and skirt. It was a good thing she hadn’t bothered with corset or petticoats. She’d be even more waterlogged. A chest of drawers to her left revealed a man’s smalls and neckties, so she tried the chest to the right. She hated to waste a moment, but he’d insisted. Leaving Ivy tonight had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Her small body had been so racked by the horrid fever, with chills and sweats. She’d been crying when she was awake, and Minnie’s heart hurt every time Ivy mentioned the pain. Everything hurt, she said. Her back, her legs, her head all ached. At the very last, she’d taken to moaning and tossing in her sleep. Even though Jane, practically a member of the family, was there with Ivy, Minnie couldn’t wait to be back, where she could see Ivy with her own eyes. She blinked back tears as she rooted for clothing.

  Success! A plain flannel shift looked like it had been worn and laundered dozens of times, so she helped herself to that. As soon as she replaced that for her damp muslin one, she began to feel warmer and with warmth came strength. She could do this. She could save Ivy. No matter what the big, brooding man asked in return, it was worth it. Dr. Grant would see Ivy and accept Minnie’s word for payment. Nothing else mattered—except praying that he could do something to help.

  “Here.” As soon as she left the room, she found her host waiting on the steps with a hooded fur-lined cloak in his hands. “I’ll be too big, but it’s warm.”

  Gratefully, she wrapped herself in the soft fur and then put on the mask he handed her. Once bundled against the cold and smoke, she followed him through the back door. A covered walkway led to a carriage house, sheltering them from most of the wind. He ushered her inside and lit a gas lamp. “Where do you live?”

  She gave him her address and took her seat in the passenger side of a steam car. It was clean and polished, but as unfussy and practical looking as its owner. She waited until he’d backed the car into the mews and gotten back out to close the carriage house door. Once they were in motion, she removed her mask. “Why are you doing so much for a complete stranger?”

  He shrugged and pulled his respirator off as well. “Someone should.”

  “The housekeeper called you Mr. Brown. Is that correct?”

  “More or less.” At her startled glance, he sighed. “It was Captain Brown, when I was in the army. Now it’s Inspector Brown. I answer to any of them.”

  “A police officer?” Well, she hadn’t expected that. Not many coppers bothered with the likes of her, any more than most physicians did.

  This time, all he did was nod. Apparently that last explanation had exhausted his tolerance for small talk.

  What felt like hours later, but had really been only minutes, they pulled up in front of the tenement Minnie called home. Inspector Brown lifted one eyebrow as he put his mask back on, but didn’t say a word, just gestured for Minnie to precede him up the rickety steps.

  She’d have taken them at a run if her tired muscles would have cooperated. Instead she all but dragged herself up the three flights. There were no gaslights in the building, so she fumbled blindly in her pocket for her key, until she heard her companion mutter, “What the deuce?”

  He reached out and pushed open the door—which had been broken off its hinges.

  “Ivy!” Minnie shrieked and ran into the tiny flat. The lone oil lamp still burned in its corner of the table, but its wick hadn’t been trimmed and emitted thick, oily smoke. On the opposite wall was a worn settee Minnie had filched from the dustbin behind a fancy shop. Jane, dear, sweet Jane, lay at an odd angle, half on, half off the settee, her eyes vacant and a dark stain covering her shirtwaist. Minnie gasped. “Dear God, Jane!”

  The inspector was already at Jane’s side, closing her eyes and covering her carefully with a quilt from the back of the nearby rocking chair. Minnie took two steps toward them, but he held out his hand and caught her shoulder. “Was she here minding your daughter?”

  Minnie nodded and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no. Ivy!” She spun on her heel and ran into the only bedroom.

  Everything had been thrown around, as if a small cyclone had ripped through the room. Ivy’s cot was empty—the blankets tossed every which way. Minnie’s narrow bed was ransacked as well, with no sign of the child. Minnie dropped to her knees to peer underneath. Nothing but a few boxes. “Ivy? Oh, God, Ivy, where are you?”

  “There’s no blood in here,” Brown said softly. “That’s a good sign. He must have taken her, for some reason. That means she’s likely still alive.”

  “But who...?” Suddenly, Minnie’s shaking legs couldn’t hold her anymore. She collapsed to the bed and sobbed. Brown stepped over and patted her awkwardly on the back.

  She only allowed herself a moment of weakness. Swallowing her sobs, she accepted the clean handkerchief Brown held out to her and blew her nose. “Why would anyone kidnap a sick little girl?”

  “I don’t know.” He paced the small room, lifting things and setting them aright, peering into corners. “Is there anywhere she might have hidden? A friend she might have run to?”

  Minnie shook her head. “Jane was the only real friend we had in this building—really more of an aunt to Ivy and a sister to me. She works—worked in the same dress shop as I do. But even if Ivy had somewhere to go—when I left, she wasn’t well enough to even get out of bed, much less to run, or hide.” The tears threatened to overwhelm her again.

  Mama? Minnie swore she could actually hear Ivy’s voice whispering to her.

  “Inspector, you have to help me find her.”

  “Of course.” He brushed aside her comment with the sweep of a hand. “Now, hush. Did you hear something?”

  Minnie held her breath.

  “Mama, I’m stuck.” This time, Minnie knew it wasn’t wishful thinking.

  She sprang to her feet. “Ivy!”

  Brown held up a finger for her silence. “Ivy Shaw? Where are you?” The inspector’s voice had gone soft and almost tender. “Your mama would like very much to see you.”

  “Are you the bad man who hurt Janie?” A small sniffle followed the words.

  Fresh tears tickled Minnie’s cheeks. “No, poppet. This i
s a nice policeman, come to help us. Tell us where you are.”

  “Behind the washstand.” Ivy’s voice was faint, but at least she wasn’t delirious as she’d been earlier.

  Before Minnie could even move, Brown had lifted the wooden cabinet housing the chamber pot away from the wall in the corner. Sure, enough, there was Ivy, in a soaking wet nightgown, cowering in a small hole that had been broken out of the wall between their flat and Jane’s. Jane’s chest of drawers was pushed up against it, creating a small nook that wouldn’t have held anyone bigger than a four-year-old. Minnie registered all of this as she ran over to lift her daughter to her breast.

  “Oh, Ivy. Thank God you’re safe.” The tears returned in a choking flood. “You don’t feel feverish? Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “Mama, you’re hurting me.” Ivy patted Minnie’s cheek with a small—and mercifully cool—hand.

  Minnie eased her grip and set Ivy down onto the bed, swiftly pulling a blanket around the child’s thin shoulders. “Dear Lord, Ivy, you scared the life out of me.” She sniffled. “However did you find such a place?”

  Ivy’s lip quivered. “Janie and me found it one day playing hide and seek. It was our secret.”

  Minnie had no idea why they’d keep such a thing secret, but Jane had always had a whimsical bent. Likely it was just a game—one that had saved Ivy’s life, but not Jane’s. Minnie glanced away, so Ivy wouldn’t see the tears filling her eyes.

  Inspector Brown squatted in front of Ivy. “Well, Miss Shaw, that was a very clever hiding place. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Ivy looked up at him with her wide blue eyes. “The bad man hurt Janie, didn’t he?”

  Minnie started to speak, possibly to deny it, but Brown just nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so. Did you hear him say anything? See his face? Was it someone you know?”

  Ivy didn’t cry. Minnie had never been so proud in her life. She squared her little shoulders. “Janie was in here, telling me a story. I felt better, so she’d brought me a drink and stayed to keep me company. We heard a loud bang—like something hit the door. Janie told me to hide in our special place, then put the washstand back and left me there.” Her face scrunched up. “The bad man shouted something, but I couldn’t really hear, just that it was a man. Janie screamed. Then I heard someone in here, throwing things around. After that, I think I fell asleep.”

  “Good girl.” Brown smiled and patted her shoulder through the blanket. “Now, your mama and I are taking you to see a doctor. Can you nap here for a few minutes while your mama packs up a few clothes?”

  Ivy’s lip trembled. “I’ll stay here. But, Mama, I have to...”

  Brown gave Minnie a knowing look. “I’ll wait in the other room. Pack everything of importance. I don’t think this flat will be habitable for some time.”

  “We don’t have much.” Minnie looked around the small room. It wasn’t much, but it was the only home she and Ivy had. Now that she didn’t have a job, though, she’d likely lose even that. She swallowed a sob. “We’ll just be a few minutes.”

  He nodded and closed the door behind him as he left, she presumed to see to Jane. While Ivy used the chamber pot, Minnie bundled all their clothes into her one Gladstone bag. Ivy’s toys and a few other things, she bundled into the two pillowslips. Lastly, she helped Ivy change into a clean, dry nightgown.

  “How did you get so very dirty?” she asked Ivy as she unbuttoned the soiled gown. Black soot seemed to crust almost every inch of the garment, as well as Ivy’s face, hands and, well—everywhere else. “It wasn’t that dusty in the hidey-hole.”

  “Dunno. Was just like that when I woke up.” Ivy shrugged, her eyes already drooping. “Piddle was black too, just now.”

  That last was probably just dirt or soot running off. Minnie didn’t quite believe her about not knowing the source, but now wasn’t the time for an argument. “Never mind, then.” It didn’t matter. Nothing did except Ivy being safe and poor Jane being dead.

  Once she had socks and shoes on Ivy’s feet, Minnie wrapped Ivy in a quilt and knocked on the connecting door. “We’re ready, Inspector.”

  He lifted Ivy in one arm and the Gladstone bag in the other, leaving Minnie to carry the pillowcases. She followed him silently, unable to avoid a glance at Jane’s body, completely covered by the incongruously bright quilt. She was grateful to the inspector for keeping Ivy’s head against his shoulder, blocking the girl from any sight of the settee.

  None of them spoke a word as, masks in place, they made their way out to the steam car. Only the vile weather could account for its pristine, unmolested state in this neighborhood. Minnie couldn’t remember another night since she’d been in London when she’d seen so few people on the streets.

  Inspector Brown laid Ivy in the rear seat, stuffing the small bag into the foot space between the seats. Minnie did the same on the other side and then climbed into the passenger side without waiting for help. She kept her head turned back, watching Ivy sleep in apparent peace, despite the horror of the night.

  “Was anything missing?” The inspector pitched his voice low enough that Ivy wouldn’t wake. “Robbery is the most likely explanation.”

  “Not anything I noticed,” Minnie said. “I don’t have any jewels, or money, or even silverplate. Our clothes were there, and shoes. I didn’t look in the kitchen cupboards. There may have been a tin of soup missing.” There hadn’t even been much in the cupboard.

  “Perhaps that’s what made the burglar angry enough to kill.”

  His observation made sense, and she nodded her understanding even though she couldn’t think of a robber stupid enough to pick that tenement. The building hadn’t housed anyone with wealth. It had been snug and warm, though, which had been enough. Where would they go now? Who had killed Jane and why? Would he be after Ivy as a possible witness? Or had Minnie been the true target? That made no sense either. She was too unimportant to have made enemies. It had to have been robbery as the inspector said. The combination of grief, fear and relief at Ivy’s astonishing recovery warred within her, making her stomach churn.

  The inspector didn’t so much as look over at her until he stopped in front of the doctor’s residence. Then he lifted Ivy and shrugged at Minnie to precede him up the steps. In any other situation, his gruffness might come across as insulting. Tonight, Minnie didn’t care. He’d gotten Ivy to the doctor and possibly saved her life. He could be as silent as he liked and she’d still think him a hero. Minnie ran up to the door and knocked.

  Chapter Two

  Seb held the little girl close to his chest. She weighed next to nothing—so thin and fragile, she might have been nothing more than a memory, a hallucination brought on by cold and fatigue. Her mother, though, made Seb want to smile. The woman had damn near died for her child tonight and she’d faced a parent’s worst nightmare, but she still had the starch to stand up to an oversized brute like him. Too bad he hadn’t met her years ago, before life in the army had burnt all the emotion out of him.

  “There you are!” Mrs. Parrish opened the door, her hair even more unkempt than earlier and her eyes drooping with exhaustion. “We’ve had another batch come in—drunken idiots fell off the roof at Parliament trying to steal some lord’s airship. Doctor is setting bones and stitching them up as we speak. I’m afraid there isn’t a bed left in the house—not even mine.”

  Seb winced. After all they’d just been through, he was damn sure going to get this child the care she needed. “Will the doctor still find time to see her?”

  Mrs. Parrish nodded. “He’s nearly done with the stitches.”

  “Send him next door, then, through the kitchens. I’ll unlock my side as soon as we get Miss Ivy into a bed.”

  “Bless you, Captain.” Mrs. Parrish smiled weakly. “There’s hot tea on the stove in ours, and some soup. Help yourselves. I’ll make sure Aggie unlocks the door right away.”

  Seb grunted out his thanks and turned toward his own doorstep. The wind still stung like blades through hi
s heavy coat, so he did his best to shelter Ivy against his chest. He leaned against the door to hold her with one hand as he fumbled in his pocket for his key.

  “The housekeeper’s room?” Mrs. Shaw said as soon as she’d slammed the door behind them.

  Seb shook his head. “Upstairs.” He didn’t bother taking his coat off, just led the way up to the second-floor bedrooms. Other than his, they were almost entirely unused. His guests in the past two years could probably be counted on a single hand, but his housekeeper prided herself on keeping the spare rooms clean and functional, ready at a moment’s notice. For once, that would prove useful.

  “Where are we?” Ivy opened her eyes and looked up at him with a yawn. Then those eyes glazed over in blind panic. She jerked around in his arms until she could see her mother standing behind Seb and then stilled. “Is this the doctor’s house?”

  “No, sweetie.” Mrs. Shaw came around Seb to the small gallery that wrapped three sides of the staircase and opened onto the bedrooms. “We’re next door. The doctor’s coming to see you here.”

  The girl stuck out her filthy lower lip. Good lord, how had she gotten that black soot everywhere—on almost every inch of her clothing and exposed skin? She looked like she’d rolled in a coal bin, but the hidey-hole hadn’t been that filthy. “I feel much better, Mama. I don’t need a doctor. Truly.”

  “Well, since you’re here, might as well make the old man feel useful and let him look at you.” Seb swung into the guestroom at the top of the stairs. It was bigger than the one on the side and had windows facing out over the garden. It was also the further of the two from his own. After setting Ivy on the bed, blanket and all, he made haste for the door. “I’ll go downstairs and wait for Dr. Grant, shall I? Next door over is the loo, if you need to wash or anything.”

  “Mr. Brown,” Mrs. Shaw called before he was even halfway down the stairs. He turned, dreading what she would ask for next. Her lovely eyes gazed down at him with stern authority, her delicately pointed chin set in determination. Gone was the exhausted waif—this woman had a spine. “Some of that tea the housekeeper next door mentioned...that would be lovely.”