Ashes & Alchemy Read online

  “Did you ever meet her father, the MP? Was he a...fairy?”

  “No.” Sebastian shook his head. “A bastard, but a fully human one. It must have been her mother. Cathleen is an Irish name. There’s more Fae blood in the Celtic lands than in England proper.”

  “’Tis possible, I suppose.” Such a thing would never have occurred to Minnie in a million years, and yet—Cathleen had possessed a fey, elfin quality, along with adorably pointed ears. “Cathleen was never ill that I know of, but surely such a heritage would have protected her from dying during childbirth.”

  Sebastian scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but I think Caroline is just as vulnerable to physical injury as everyone else. Perhaps something was...damaged by the birth.”

  “She couldn’t stop bleeding.” Minnie remembered every moment of watching the life slowly ebb from her dear friend’s eyes. “I suppose you could be right. It’s a shame this information is unavailable to those who might need it.”

  His expression hardened. “You must swear to never reveal any of what I’ve just told you. I trusted you, Minerva Shepherd Shaw. But the lives of my family and friends may depend upon your silence.”

  Minnie touched her hand to her heart. “I promise. I would never betray you in that fashion. Not after all you’ve done for me and Ivy.”

  “I can hear the truth in your voice.” He stood. “If we’re done here, I’ll go fetch that sewing engine. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be visiting the school and the dress shop, so you’ll have plenty of time before we leave for the party.” His face had returned to its neutral, unreadable expression but Minnie knew an order when she heard one.

  So much for her plan to go with him. She made a small face, which caused his eyes to crinkle. “Of course. Thank you again, Mr. Brown. For trusting me, as well as everything else.”

  He dipped his head, but this time his lips twitched as well. “As always, you’re very welcome.”

  Chapter Five

  Seb hauled the heavy sewing engine upstairs and filled its copper boiler. Mrs. Claypoole had taken Minerva and Ivy under her wing like a pair of lost ducklings, so she was eager to lend her needlework equipment to the process, along with her help. Seb left the two women discussing designs and fled to the comfort of his study.

  He’d told her about the Order—a serious violation of promises he’d willingly given. If Ivy developed powers, though, she’d need their help, and times of need were always exceptions. He truly believed that Minerva would take the knowledge to her grave rather than abuse it.

  Ivy’s heritage might also allow him to draw the resources of the Order further into the investigation, although they were already interested, thanks to Wink’s knowledge about the engineered bacteria. His superiors, other than Liam, would be skeptical of such a case, and in truth, some of them would see no purpose in worrying overmuch about a poor seamstress and a handful of children from the slums. It would be good to have the Order’s influence behind him.

  He checked over his notes, adding details and jotting down theories as they popped into his mind. One that kept cropping up was that this monster, who’d apparently killed Jane without remorse, was trying to get to Ivy. But why? Was he angry that she hadn’t succumbed, or had she seen or heard something that could be incriminating? It was also possible that he’d wanted to take her alive. Why, then? To study her response to the disease? That idea settled smoothly into Seb’s consciousness, like a puzzle piece locking into place. Yes, that was it. The villain wanted to know how Ivy had survived. Perhaps that was the goal all along, to make a microbe that didn’t kill the host but was actually beneficial.

  The more Seb pursued this line of thinking, the more it fit. This man didn’t consider himself a killer, he was a scientist. Perhaps he even thought himself a savior. If Wink’s ideas were correct, and this bacteria cleaned soot from the body, mainly the lungs, then such a thing would indeed extend the lives of innumerable city dwellers, in London and throughout the world. If his research could be discovered intact, honest scientists, ones who didn’t kill to further their work, could possibly refine it and work miracles.

  So who had Ivy been exposed to who had that kind of expertise? It galled that Seb couldn’t do any more to find out tonight. Ivy was a special child, one who ought to be protected and cared for. As was her mother. He hadn’t felt such a wave of affection and determination in a long time, and that had ended in devastation. Seb didn’t know if he could live through that again. In just two short days, he’d become used to Minerva’s quiet efficiency and Ivy’s laughter as she played, even while bedridden. When he solved this case, they’d be gone again, safe from this murderer, but alone and without income in a very unsafe world. It didn’t bear thinking about, so of course he couldn’t get it out of his mind. He eyed the brandy decanter, but that was no solution. He had enough pride not to let Minerva see him blind drunk. His days of using that as a crutch were over.

  After the sewing session had finished and Minerva had closed herself in the bedroom with Ivy, Seb ventured upstairs to his own room. Sleep was elusive and, as was often the case, interrupted by dreams.

  In his mind, he was back in India. The heat was overwhelming, even worse with so many souls crammed behind the walls of Lucknow trying to survive the siege. Sickness and hunger swept through the huddled crowd. One by one they started dying—the old and very young first. Sebastian’s wound festered, and the fever made the heat seem like the fires of hell itself. But Vidya tended him, reminding him that he had to survive so they could marry and he could take her back to England. She spoke only English, claiming she needed the practice.

  As always in the dream, he relived his weeks with Vidya. Theirs hadn’t been a love match. Vidya was the natural daughter of the highly ranked official of the East India Company who’d housed Seb and his men during the siege. Seb had agreed to marry the dusky-skinned beauty after she’d seduced him, but he’d become fond of her and he’d looked forward to their marriage. Mostly he’d looked forward to the idea of having a family of his own. He was sure everyone in the house knew they’d anticipated their vows, but he hadn’t cared. The plan was to marry as soon as they could find a parson.

  Then one day she hadn’t come to tend his wound. One of the servants said she’d taken ill overnight. He’d used a crutch and staggered to her bedside just hours before she died. Just like that, she’d sickened and been gone, while all he could do was lie helplessly beside her and watch. Worst of all, he hadn’t died himself. Hundreds of men, women and children had, but Seb had been forced to witness the horror and survive it. Still caught in the dream, he looked over Vidya’s lifeless corpse and saw a street full of dead children. He opened his mouth to scream.

  And shook himself awake before he could. Even wrapped in the midst of the nightmare, he somehow remembered that Ivy was just down the hall, and he didn’t want to frighten her.

  Well. That was something. The dream hadn’t gone on and on, with him screaming until he was hoarse.

  A tap sounded on his bedroom door, and Seb nearly leaped out of bed. “Who is it?” His throat felt rusty and awkward.

  “Me, Minnie,” came a voice. “I thought I heard moaning. Are you all right, Mr. Brown?”

  “I’m fine.” His hand shook as the lie came out of his mouth.

  “Can I come in?” Her voice was stern, as if she was speaking to Ivy.

  “No. It isn’t decent.” He reached down to find he’d gone to sleep in his drawers, instead of the buff. That was a small salve to his pride—an important detail to remember when the doorknob started to turn.

  “Go back to bed.” He pulled the covers up tightly around his waist. “I told you I’m fine.”

  “Well, I’m not.” The door swung open and Minerva came in, a thin robe wrapped around her white cotton nightgown and an oil lamp in her hand. “You must have realized by now that I don’t take orders very well, except from my employer. Otherwise, I do what I think best. I know what nightmares sound l
ike, Mr. Brown.”

  “Since you’re standing in my bedroom in the middle of the night, you might as well call me Seb.” God, he sounded testy as a child denied a treat.

  “Well, then, Sebastian, as I was saying, I know what nightmares sound like.”

  He loved the way his full name sounded in her stubborn, slightly raspy voice. Still, he scowled at her. “We all have nightmares. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I know what they sound like, as I said, but I also know how miserable it is to be alone with them. Won’t you tell me what it was about?” With utter disdain for any sense of propriety, she set the lamp on his dresser and perched on the end of his bed. “Mine got ever so much better once I told Jane about them.”

  “I suspect mine are a great deal more violent than yours.” He snorted and tried not to think about wrapping her thick braid around his wrist. Lust and some other emotion surged within him, shocking him with its intensity. He hadn’t been a monk since returning home, but desire had never been more than a simple bodily function. Not since Vidya, and even that had been a predominantly physical connection, though he’d been fond of her. Vidya had been a practiced and determined temptress. Minerva tempted him without knowing it, in a shapeless robe and high-necked nightgown, and roused feelings Seb didn’t want to put a name to.

  “You’d be surprised,” she said flatly. “The world isn’t kind to a young woman on her own. I’ve seen my own share of violence.”

  He lifted a single brow, not commanding her to explain, but offering her the chance if she wished.

  Minerva sighed. “I wasn’t always a Londoner, you know. I didn’t grow up in this life.”

  “I’d gathered that. Your speech patterns suggest somewhere on the southern coast.” He waited for her to continue.

  She nodded. “Portsmouth. My father was a modestly wealthy merchant, with warehouses and several stores. My mother owned a dressmaking shop in town. After they married, she retired, of course, but always kept her hand in, sewing for me and my sister. Fortunately, she taught us as well. That’s the only reason I was able to make an honest living.”

  “You have a sister?” He lifted his eyebrow again.

  Minerva shrugged. “I did. I’ve no idea if she’s still living. My parents disowned me when I was seventeen. I’ve had no contact with them since.”

  He sat up straighter. “Why the hell would they do that?”

  She grimaced. “I’d let myself be seduced by one of my father’s assistants. We were caught. The neighbors were scandalized. Rather than marry me, he fled, but not before he convinced them it was all my doing. My father was a very devout man. They cast me out with a few shillings and the clothes on my back.”

  Seb let loose a string of curses that he shouldn’t have even thought about in front of a lady. “Then what?”

  “I came to London to find work. I sold my watch for train fare, but I didn’t have enough money for lodgings. That first night...” She blanched and swallowed convulsively, her skin fading to a sallow shade. “Yes, Sebastian. I am familiar with violence on a very personal level.”

  “If he still lives, I will kill him.” The words came out of his mouth of their own volition as fury surged in his gut.

  A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. “Thank you for that. He doesn’t. I’d also taken a dagger from my father’s study. The man was too strong, and I couldn’t get to it at first. But when he reached down to pull my skirts up, I stabbed him. He was heavy, so I lay beneath him for some time while he bled out on top of me. I was afraid I’d be arrested before I could get away. Eventually I squiggled out and ran as fast as my feet could take me, even though I had nowhere to go.” She broke off and sniffed. “And that, Sebastian, is my nightmare. Not the rape I avoided, but the murder I committed with my own hands.”

  “Christ.” He couldn’t stand her pain. It felt like vicious claws raking his stomach. He dragged her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her as much for his sake as hers. To his relief, she wound her arms around his naked chest as well and laid her head against him. Her sadness was his undoing. The words came pouring out, all about India, Lucknow, Vidya and all the lives he couldn’t save. “Vidya was pregnant when she died.”

  “Oh, Sebastian. I’m so very sorry for your loss.” She squeezed him tight. “I know how frightened I was when Ivy was ill. I can’t imagine...” Her voice choked off with a sob.

  He shook his head, not wanting her sympathy. “There were so many losses, many more than my own. A new life, not even formed yet—not even certain yet, though she and I both believed it to be true—that one loss shouldn’t overpower the thousands who died in the uprising.”

  “No human being could have saved them all. I’ll not say it was God’s will.” She rubbed his cheek with her thumb. “I don’t really believe that. But war is not something one man can change, certainly not one single soldier. You saved as many as you could, and with your work, you still do. You saved Ivy. You saved me. I’ll be grateful to you ’til the end of my days.”

  “I don’t want your gratitude.” Hoping his grated words hadn’t been too harsh, he looked down into her tear-streaked face.

  She smiled up. “I know. You have it anyway, along with my friendship. You’re a good man, Sebastian Brown. I won’t let anyone, even you, say otherwise.”

  Seb growled. He wanted to tell her she was wrong. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful in the lamplight, the shadows making her eyes even bigger, her chin more sweetly pointed. Instead, without a moment’s consideration, he leaned down and kissed her. One touch of her soft, full lips, and he’d ascended from hell into heaven.

  * * *

  Minnie held her breath as Sebastian covered her lips with his. She’d never been kissed with this sort of dark, ferocious intensity mingled with exquisite gentleness. He didn’t compare to either her fumbling young lover, the few men she’d stepped out with as a seamstress or her brutal would-be rapist. This kiss was a revelation. He guided but didn’t control. At any point, she knew that if she pulled back even a little, he’d stop completely.

  With that power came desire. Minnie threw herself into the kiss, moving her lips against his and sucking on his tongue when it tentatively entered her mouth. She dug her fingers into his broad, unclothed back, loving the strength and heat of him beneath her hands. Though she’d been with men, none of them had been unclothed, and this was pleasure, more intimate, more intense than any she had ever felt before. His mustache tickled her upper lip, but that only seemed to arouse her more.

  At first he kept his hands lightly on her shoulders, as if afraid he’d frighten her. Slowly, as the kiss deepened, he slid one down her spine and cupped the back of her head with the other. Minnie moaned and leaned closer into his chest, her tongue now darting against his. Now she began to understand Cathleen and Jane taking lovers. This would tempt any female to risk self-destruction.

  She brought her hands around to his chest and rubbed them against the crisp hairs scattered across the solid planes. When she ran out of breath, he pulled his lips from hers and kissed her ear, licking around the edges and giving the lobe a soft nip. Minnie giggled like a girl and kissed the warm skin of his shoulder and throat, drinking in the salty taste of him. The tang of lime cologne and a hint of brandy overlaid the intoxicating scent that could only be his.

  Her limbs grew languid, her core softening and moistening, while her breasts grew heavy and tender. When he skimmed one hand up to her waist and around to cup the side of her breast, she gasped. A half heartbeat of panic tried to flood her mind, but it passed almost as soon as it came. When Sebastian stilled—sensing her discomfort, she was sure—she shifted so her small breast was directly against his palm.

  “Minerva,” he whispered. “You’re lovely, you know that. I wish I could see all of you.”

  “Yes.” She reached for the knot at the waist of her robe and was surprised to find he’d already undone it, entirely without her notice. She moved her fingers to the buttons on the neck of her nightgow
n.

  His hand covered hers and held it still. “No.”

  “Why not?” Her voice caught. Was she so unskilled that he didn’t want her? She shifted in his lap, feeling the strength of his erection beneath her bum. No. He wanted her, all right. Was this just another example of his pigheaded need to command? Did he always have to be in control of every situation? “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re a fine woman, Minerva. You deserve so much better than this, a hurried coupling with your daughter right down the hall.” He gathered her close again and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m not like the other men you’ve known, ready to use you without thought to the cost. I have enough respect for you to stop, even though right now I want you more than my next breath.”

  “Ivy.” How could she have, even for a moment, considered this? She covered her face with her hand. “I’m a terrible mother.”

  “No. You’re one of the most devoted I’ve ever known. You’re only human, Minerva. Flawed, like the rest of us, I’m afraid.” He leaned back and tied her belt again. “Now, go back to your room, my dear, before I forget all my noble intentions.” Noble intentions—of course. It wasn’t a need to order everyone about, it was a need to keep his own world under control. Sebastian’s bossiness was only a shield to protect him from feeling too much. Of course he’d need that defense in his line of work. Suddenly, all his brusque behavior made sense and made him even more irresistible.

  “As if you could.” Minnie stood on shaking legs. “Thank you, Sebastian. For sharing your fears and for calming my own. No matter what, I’ll never forget you.”

  “Nor I you, tigress.” He smiled. “Good night. We’ve both got work to do tomorrow.”

  “Good night.” Minnie left the lamp in his room and ran back to hers in darkness. She’d not have been able to see through the tears anyway.