The woman’s eyes were still red, and she shook like a human in the throes of the drink, but she held tightly to the hand offered to her.
“My God,” Joseph whispered. Kendrick had forgotten he and the guards were still in the room.
“Marshall, do you know where Lily stays? For that matter, where doyoustay?”
Marshall blinked. “H-Here in the Ossuary, I think. I do, too—but with two or three other fellows.”
In a hole or a cave or some such. Like where Genevieve and her friends had lodged.
“Take one of the furnished rooms,” Kendrick said. “Make her comfortable and see if you can bring her back to reason enough to remove her bonds.” He nodded at the guards to make it so. “Joseph—your ear a moment.”
He pulled Joseph aside. “I need to speak to everyone assembled—the whole Ossuary, and as many vampires in London as we can find. I have left it too long. Can we notify enough by the early hours?”
Joseph thought a moment. “If you wish to speak, say, two hours before dawn? Yes. I know where the prominent vampires live and will send others to spread the word.” At Kendrick’s look, Joseph said, “I was the majordomo, remember?”
“Good. I thank you. I need to make a change, and this seems as good an omen as any.”
“I’d never dreamed it possible for someone to come back from the madness,” Joseph said.
It could have been a near thing had Marshall not stopped her from killing. Lily’s case served as a hope and a warning. Thingsmustchange—if they were to stop any further cases from progressing so far. “How old is Lily, do you think?”
“Forty, if that,” Joseph said. They shared a long, thoughtful look.
“Really married?” Fletcher pressed. “A ring and everything?” He was sitting up in bed and looking very well. The puppy, freshly washed and sleepy, hid under the covers at his side. After one brave growl at Genevieve, it had decided discretion was the better part of valor. Once she had delivered Fletcher’s improving bill of health, Elspeth had left the room to fetch the boy’s supper.
Genevieve described the scene in the rectory’s parlor for the boy. “Kendrick made the ring,” she added.
“Made it, his own self?” Fletcher said from the bed, his gaze dropping to her gloved hand. “Can I have a gander, mum?”
He couldn’t see the beautiful ring under her lovely glove, just the imprint where it lay. Her hand trembled a moment, and then Genevieve deliberately unfastened the buttons of her glove. “Here. Isn’t it lovely?” she said, extending her bare hand to the boy so he could see the beautiful, braided strands of gold.
Fletcher dutifully examined the ring, but his gaze kept returning to her ruined fingernails. “What happened?” he finally asked.
Genevieve considered several responses and finally decided to tell the truth. “I was punished for disobedience. Several times.”
“By who?” the boy demanded furiously, sitting up straighter in bed.
“A bad man. But he is dead now.”
“Any hand raised against a body in my protection will find his cut off,” Fletcher said.
Genevieve gaped at him. It was a poorly paraphrased line fromSigestan of Emberlost:“Any hand raised against one of the souls under my protection will be severed. Protection is my duty and my vocation, to the Lady Eawyn and her vassals most of all.”
“You remembered that, Fletcher?” she asked, voice thick.
“It’s a crackin’ good story, mum. Means the cove will have his guts for garters.”
“It does, indeed.”Did you hear that, Papa? “A cracking good story.” And my husband reads him the book.
Hands settled carefully on her shoulders, but she was proud that she didn’t flinch. She knew their touch and had recognized the near-silent tread of his feet.
“Is all well?” she asked in a low voice.
“Yes, it will be. I have asked Joseph to gather everyone two hours before dawn in the Ossuary. Do you think Elspeth or one of your other friends would be content to sit with Fletcher? I would like to introduce you as my wife.”
“I think I can prevail upon Elspeth again,” Genevieve murmured.
“Thank you.”
