Page 37 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“Brooding is not going to help, love,” a distinctly male voice says, and I watch as the red-haired man from the other night appears, just as casually attired as Cornelius.

I cast my mind back to the night I was brought to the house. He’d been here then as well. What was his name? Ichabod, I’m sure that’s it. But just who is this man?

He circles around Cornelius’ chair, running his hands through my brother’s unruly hair, a move that is slow and speaks of intimacy. I watch, curious, as he lifts the glass from Cornelius’ hand and takes a sip of its contents before setting it on the mantel above the fire.

“You must know by now that brooding is my inherent nature.” Cornelius sighs and looks up at his companion.

Ichabod places his hands down on the arms of the chair either side of my brother and lowers his face, his mouth hovering above Cornelius’ lips.

“Maybe you need a distraction from your thoughts.”

“Perhaps I do,” Cornelius mutters, his eyes darkening as he reaches up and grips that shock of red hair.

Their lips meet, and I suck in a slow and silent breath, my eyes widening as I watch my brother passionately kiss another man. His hands release Ichabod’s hair when the man climbs into Cornelius’ lap, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it from his shoulders to leave him bare from the waist up.

Cornelius sits up, wrapping his arms around pale skin that almost glows in the flicker of the firelight, swathes of golden freckles highlighted by its flames. One of them moans, and I hesitate. What is going on in that room is not for my eyes, and the least I can do for my brother is give him his privacy and hold my tongue.

“I know you’re worried about Cordelia,” Ichabod grumbles softly as he unbuttons Cornelius’ shirt. “You’re so tense, your body feels like granite and not in a good way.”

“I know,” Cornelius exhales loudly. “I can’t stop thinking about Cordelia though. Dr Whyte seems more determined than I gave him credit for. He’s already filed a motion with the courts to return Cordie to his custody and give him control of her care.”

“Hadley and Mason won’t let that happen,” Ichabod replies. “We just need to trust them.”

“I do, but Whyte has friends in high places and keeps a lot of secrets for them. We haven’t been able to ascertain what hold he has on them, but the reach goes very high up the chain. There are hints that some of the royals are involved.”

“Surely not,” Ichabod says sharply.

I swallow hard. I know exactly what Cornelius is talking about. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Dr Whyte and his Demon Club. I could tell Cornelius the truth, that Dr Whyte allows his very select members access to the patients of Crowscroft, allows them to play out their sickest desires and perversions. I know this because on several occasions Whyte forced me to watch while a very prominent member of the House of Lords abused and mutilated a young man.

That’s what Whyte does. He peddles flesh and opportunity for privileged men to play out their grotesque fantasies. He keeps their secrets, which makes him almost untouchable.

But I can’t tell my brother any of this. It will only put him in danger, as well as Constance and her child Evangeline.

No, I won’t speak of it. But I will make sure each and every one of those men are punished, and I don’t mean in a prison cell or by the short drop at the end of a rope. They are going to suffer. They are going to pay for every second of their victims’ agony.

I swear it.

“There’s nothing more we can do right now,” Ichabod soothes Cornelius. “She’s here and she’s safe.”

“But for how long?” Cornelius murmurs. “I wanted her home so badly. Here, where she belongs with her family, but now I’m not so sure this is the safest place.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m wondering if it would be better to sneak her onto a ship. She was always happiest when we were in India. Maybe going back will give her a chance to heal, not just her body but also her soul.” He sighs. “I have contacts in the Foreign Office. We could get her a new identity and smuggle her out.”

“You might never see her again,” Ichabod replies. “If they’re watching you–”

“But she’d be alive, safe, and most importantly, out of that dreadful place and beyond the reach of Whyte. He can’t have her if he can’t find her.”

Ichabod cups Cornelius’ jaw, holding his face tenderly. “We’ll make sure he never gets his hands on her again. I promise.”

My brother nods as his lover leans in and kisses him slowly. Then Ichabod pulls back and slides slowly off his lap until he’s kneeling between Cornelius’ spread legs. He fumbles at the fastening of his trousers, then lowers his head into Cornelius’ lap, bobbing up and down slowly.

I know what he’s doing. Hadn’t I been on my knees more times than I could count? Not like this though, never willingly.

Turning my back, I step away from the door, giving them their privacy. My mind is caught on the words I overheard. So Whyte has already set the wheels in motion. I have less time than I thought.

I reach my hand up to where my head throbs, only to find an uncomfortable stubble covering my scalp from where they’d shaved my hair off. Drawing in a shaky breath, I cross the foyer and head through the archway into the main parlour. I don’t stop until I am at the back wall. Pushing one of the chairs aside, I pause to catch my breath. My whole body is shaking from exertion, and I fight the urge to collapse into the chair I’ve just moved. Only my brother’s words spur me on.