“And Tower Hill? Is that nearby?”
“Right next to it. Nigh a hundred men have lost their heads on the butcher’s block there. Not a pleasant way to go if ye ask me. It’s no surprise there’s so many stories of restless spirits about.”
I nodded, my thoughts shifting from my arm to specters. Leprechauns and Fairies I knew to be imaginary beings. Ghosts were an entirely different matter altogether. In truth, I had no idea whether they existed or not, nor did I want to find out tonight. Yet here I was, about to walk into the one place they would most likely be found, and at the witching hour no less.
“I’ve never seen one myself, miss,” Fannie said,” but no wise person goes looking for trouble, as my mum used to say.”
To be fair, I never looked for trouble. It just seemed to find me.
She refilled my teacup. “There ye go, miss. If ye need anymore, her ladyship keeps a good store in the pantry. Just ring the bell and someone will be up directly.”
“This should do,” I said, my gaze fixed on the fire.
“Goodnight, miss. Sleep well.” The door clicked shut and she was gone from the room.
My gaze remained unbroken, almost trance like, as spectral shapes began to take form within the fire, the orange flames twisting into gruesome images of beheaded men. Dazed, I squeezed my eyelids shut to break the spell. I had enough to worry about without the addition of Fannie’s ghost stories. Opening my eyes again, I took a seat in the armchair and sipped my tea, determined not to become distracted from the real problems at hand.
*
At twelve sharp, I slipped the door bolt and stepped onto the front porch. Henry was already there, leaning back against the brick fa?ade, waiting for me. The only light came from a dim oil lamp at his feet. He had traded his fine theater clothes for woolen breeches and brown boots that came above the knee. A dark woolen great coat rested on his shoulders.
“Are you ready?” he asked, picking up the lamp.
“Yes, I’ve the basket here.”
He said nothing more, just offered his arm. At the bottom of the stairs, he turned to the right and continued walking.
My boots scuffed against the cobbled walkway. “Where is the carriage?” I asked, hoping he didn’t plan to walk all the way to the Tower.
“Not too much farther. I thought it wise to err on the side of discretion, considering the nature of our outing tonight.” Though he spoke quietly, I heard the tension in his voice. Peering up, I saw the hard set of his jaw and wondered if two hours hadn’t been sufficient to calm his temper.
After another twenty yards of silence, the bulky shadow of a carriage came into view. Two men waited nearby, neither one moving to open the door when we approached. They were not the powdered footmen I had expected, but common ruffians, dressed in coarse clothing and each wearing a sword and pistol in plain sight. The carriage was also different, plain brown without any signs of adornment.
The men nodded at Henry, then climbed onto the driver’s box once we were inside. Henry secured the door and sat on the opposite bench facing me.
“Who are they?” I asked, a little breathless from the walk.
“Hired men, less likely to talk than servants and more handy in a fight.”
“Are you expecting trouble?”
“Not exactly, but I would prefer not to be caught unaware around the Tower so late at night.”
I assumed he meant being caught unaware by the living, not the dead. The two men in the driver’s box were wearing swords and pistols, useless weapons against anyone lacking a corporeal form. Since speaking with Fannie I had done everything possible to chase the thought of ghosts from my mind. I wasn’t about to bring it up now when we had so many other important things to discuss.
“I’ve heard the Tower is one of the most haunted places in England,” I blurted. “That more than a hundred men have lost their heads on the adjoining hill.”
The lamp burned low next to Henry, its weak light barely reaching the lines of his face. He stared at me for a long second, his mouth set in a straight line. “I am more concerned with thieves and cutthroats,” he said coolly. “Any unnatural power can go straight to the devil for all I care.”
My back stiffened under his choice of words. “I assume you’re referring to ghosts as unnatural,” I said, matching his tone, “and not my own power.”
He gave a mirthless laugh. “After that little stunt you pulled this evening, I mean your power above all.”
I inhaled a sharp breath, surprised by his resentment. “You know I didn’t have any choice with the boy.”
“Please don’t, Selah. I’ve already enough on my mind for one night.”