“The almighty Junior. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.” I lunged at Clarence, but he grabbed me by my bruised wrists. He twisted my arms and bolted out of his seat.
“That’s enough, Eleanor—enough!” He towered over me. “Yes, I knew your brother. He was always cowering and crying. And yes, I thought him a sickly, ridiculous thing.” His nostrils flared as his breath came out in great gusts. “Then after your father refused a spot in the Gas Ring, Fred, James, Clint, and I did exactly as our fathers told us to do. We made your brother’s life a living hell.”
“Bastard.”
“Hush. You’ve no right to say such things, and it doesn’t suit you. Behave like the lady you are.” He bore down on me and forced me to sit. “I am not proud of how I treated Elijah. It was easy and even fun as a child, but now, as an adult, I wish it hadn’t happened.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not—I have every intention of making amends when he comes home. I hope to offer him a position among the Gas Trustees.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“I don’t agree with everything my father did. I... I regret the enmity between our families.” He released my wrists and thrust his chin high. “However, I am a dutiful son. I follow my father’s footsteps and carefully laid plans because, well...” He spread his hands. “What choice do I have?”
“You always have a choice,” I growled.
“No. That’s not true. This was the life given to me, and I honor my father’s memory by faithfully living it. I run for city council because he wanted me to. He made no mention of your family, though, so I have taken it upon myself to help.”
“How generous of you.”
“Everyone can see you fake your wealth.” He grimaced with a mixture of pity and distaste. “Of course, with a mother like yours, it’s not hard to see where it all gets wasted.”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that. You know nothing about us.”
His eyebrows jumped up. “I know she raised a wild, unruly daughter, whom, despite it all, I like. A daughter who must be married off quickly and taught some manners. I know she raised a weak son who has abandoned his family when they need him most—”
“He hasn’t abandoned us.” I launched myself at him and pounded on his chest. “He hasn’t! You don’t know anything.”
Clarence wrestled me off. I didn’t resist—I couldn’t resist. Somewhere in my pummeling, I had started to cry.
“Calm down,” he said. “You must calm down. You will wake your house.” He pushed me onto the bench and sat beside me. “Eleanor. Miss Fitt. Calm down.”
“How can I?” I whimpered. “How can I be calm when you’re Junior a-and my brother has been taken and I-I ruined the Spirit-Hunters lab and my brother is going to die—the whole city...” I laid my face in my hands and sobbed. I knew my behavior had turned hysterical, but I couldn’t rein in my emotions. It felt as if my brain were separated from my body by a wall. I could think logically, but I couldn’t act it.
“Eleanor.” Clarence yanked my hands from my face and made me meet his gaze. “What do you mean your brother has been taken? And what about the Spirit-Hunters—have they found Elijah’s body?”
“No. He’s not dead. The necromancer has him.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I just do! Now let me go!” I wrenched free of his grasp. He reached for me, but I scrambled off the bench. “Stay away from me.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched. “No. Stop. It makes no sense. Explain.” He sprang up and chased me, his eyes huge and white.
I retreated clumsily, wiping at my eyelashes and damp cheeks. “Wh-where are your bodyguards?”
“Around,” Clarence said. “Don’t worry. I’m safe. Even if you don’t see them, they’re lurking nearby.”
I laughed, a breathy sound. “I’m not worried for you. I’m worried for me.”
“I don’t intend to hurt you.”
“Then why don’t you leave?” I pointed toward the gate. “I don’t want your company.”
“Absolutely not,” he snapped. “There are quite a few questions that need answering. How do you know of your brother? Where did you go tonight? And, most importantly, who told you about the Gas Ring and your father’s company?” He advanced on me.
“Stay away!” I hefted up my skirts and tried to flee, but all I could manage in the mud and petticoats was a quick hobble. He clasped my arm and whipped me around. I toppled into him and clutched at his coat.
“You had better cooperate, Eleanor. There are many lives at stake, including my own.”
“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.”
“And the foolish can cite Shakespeare,” he snarled. “Enough with your childish behavior. Answer my questions or I will tell your mother of all this.”
I gasped. “No.” He couldn’t tell Mama. Everything I’d worked for would be ruined—she would lock me away and likely lock herself away too.