Simon gave Kate a disturbed smirk. “Yes, she’s seen many dead people.”
Charlotte nodded vigorously. “Oh yes! Don’t worry, Mr. Simon. I’m very calm. I saw Gretta tear people to pieces and I could still go to sleep that night.”
“Perhaps I should leave before I get upset.” Kate took a deep breath. “Charlotte, I want you to go and find Imogen.”
“But …” the girl began.
“No,” Kate insisted. “Please, go. This isn’t for you.”
“But I want to help.” Charlotte scuffed her shoe on the rug and moped around the sofa. “Because of me, you don’t have anybody else.”
Kate took the girl’s hand. “What do you mean, dear?”
“Mr. Malcolm. He left because of me, didn’t he?”
“No, Charlotte.” Kate glanced quickly at Simon and Penny with concern, then gazed intently into the girl’s eyes. “Mr. Malcolm had other affairs to attend to.”
“He hates me because of what I am, so he left. He was your friend before me.”
“Hush, dear. He just didn’t understand.” Kate pulled Charlotte close and embraced her.
The door to the library opened and Malcolm entered. He was covered in mud from riding hard. He dropped his rucksack on the floor and tossed his holsters onto a table. He looked with bemusement at the surprised stares from Penny, Kate, who was hugging Charlotte, and Simon, holding his pipe.
“Well,” he said quietly, “this is a charming little family tableau. Father. Mother. Sister. Faithful hound.” He paused before nodding toward Aethelred who lounged near the guttering fire, then turned his gaze on Charlotte. “And daughter.”
“Ah, now the eccentric uncle.” Simon tapped his pipe on the heel of his hand. “We’re complete and cozy and ready for Christmas dinner.”
Malcolm glanced curiously at the map on the wall on his way to pour a glass of whiskey. “You’ve got a new problem now with all that.”
Simon motioned several worried servants who had trailed Malcolm into the house back out with a grateful nod, and closed the door again. “Have we?”
Charlotte grasped Kate’s hand and anxiously watched Malcolm drain the glass, then pour another. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Yes,” the Scotsman said. “I encountered an undead in London. And she had been buried at St. George’s Bloomsbury. I think this ritual murder is causing the dead to rise.” Malcolm drank the second glass with a sense of dramatic satisfaction. He looked from Simon to Kate, and his brow furrowed, confused by their lack of shocked reaction to his announcement. Then he looked angry. “Did you hear me?”
Penny went quietly to the window and seemed to vanish in the shadows.
“Yes,” Simon replied, with a concerned eye to the young engineer, “and you’re right. How many undead did you see?”
“One.” Malcolm looked confused and annoyed. “How many undead do you need for it to be a problem?”
“Well, Kate and I encountered nearly one hundred of them at Christ Church two nights ago.”
Malcolm set the glass down sharply and folded his arms.
“Don’t be cross, Malcolm.” Simon smiled as he slowly refilled his pipe. “I’m sure your one lonely undead was frightening. What did you do with it?”
“I destroyed it so it wouldn’t harm anyone. A novel concept with monsters these days, I know.”
Simon let the comment pass with only a glance at Penny. “Where did you encounter it?”
The Scotsman hesitated, then mumbled, “In a soup kitchen.”
“Did you say a soup kitchen? Were you both in line for a meal?”
Penny chuckled.
Malcolm returned to the door and lifted his pack. “I see now there’s nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know. As usual. So I’ll be on my way.”
“Mr. Malcolm, wait!” Charlotte shouted. “Don’t go!”
He spun around with a furious glare at the child. “What did you say?”
“Don’t go.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll go.”
“What?” Malcolm snapped. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ll go.” Charlotte looked him with pleading eyes. “I’m better. As long as I can take some wulfsyl with me. I’m fine. We know how much I should take now. You can stay. I’ll go.” Kate reached out, but Charlotte slipped away from her hand. “It’s fine, Miss Kate. He was here first. I just came for wulfsyl. If you’ll let me take some, I can go.”
Kate stared at Malcolm, her accusing eyes flashing between pity and fury.
“No, Miss Kate, don’t be mad at him,” the girl said. “I don’t mind. I came here for help, and you helped me. See? I’m really very upset, but I’m not changing. See?” Charlotte rubbed her hands along her flowered frock and held them up. “Once I’m gone, you can all be a family again.”
Malcolm watched the girl as tears began to drip down her face. He exhaled in resignation and dropped his pack on the floor again. “Stop your crying and sit down. Right then, what time is Christmas dinner?”
Simon put his pipe in his mouth and leaned on the hearth with a contented gaze about the room.
Chapter 12