"What about his voice?" I asked, recalling the spirit's German accent.
"Again, his death was almost thirty years ago. The accent was certainly spot-on, with a hint of the Germanic." He frowned in thought. "Now that I think about it, his voice wasn't quite the same. The imposter's was deeper."
Lincoln set off again. The prince and I fell into step alongside him. "You were right to send him away," Lincoln said. "He is an imposter."
"I know," the prince said through a set jaw. "I saw my father's body. He is very much dead."
"Now we know what Leisl meant," I said. "She didn't see the spirit of your father, she saw the man impersonating him."
"That seems to be the case," the prince said.
"Could he have fathered another child?" Lincoln asked.
The prince's step faltered. He stopped again. "I beg your pardon?"
"That offends you?" Lincoln asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Yes! He was devoted to the queen."
Lincoln glanced at me. I suspected he was asking me to confirm if that was the impression I got from meeting the prince consort's ghost. "He did seem pleased to see her," I said.
"I assure you he did not stray from the marital bed," the prince hissed. "He was a good man."
Lincoln walked off. "Good men sometimes stray. Even good men of royal blood."
"And some do not."
"True," Lincoln conceded. "Some have willpower and moral fiber."
The prince slapped one hand inside the other behind his back and forged ahead. I had to quicken my step to keep up with them both. "Even men with willpower and moral fiber find themselves in need of comforts out of the marital bed," the prince said. "Although my father was not one of them."
The contest of wills had returned so fiercely that they'd forgotten I was still there. Not that Lincoln would think such a conversation too indelicate for me. He knew I'd heard and seen things that would scandalize even His Royal Highness. I cleared my throat.
"My humblest apologies, Miss Holloway," the prince said, his face reddening. "I don't know what came over me to say such things in your presence."
"It's quite all right, sir," I said. "You are not entirely to blame."
I felt rather than saw Lincoln stiffen. "Do you know where the imposter went after he left here?" he asked.
"The East End. I had one of the footmen follow him, but he lost him in Whitechapel. My man didn't dare go further."
Considering his royal livery would have attracted undesirable attention, his reluctance was understandable. One of the footmen now opened the door leading to the courtyard. Gus and Seth straightened and urged the horses forward to collect us.
"What will you do now?" the prince asked Lincoln.
"I haven't yet decided." He nodded. "Good day, sir."
"Be sure to keep me informed at every step. Understand?"
"Perfectly."
I bobbed a curtsy. "Good day, your highness. It was a pleasure to be invited to your home and meet your mo- queen."
He took my hand and assisted me up into the carriage. "Good day, Miss Holloway. It was delightful to have your company. I hope to see you again shortly." He kissed the back of my hand and smiled as he stepped away.
Lincoln climbed in beside me and the footman closed the door and folded up the step. The coach rolled off and out of the courtyard.
"You goaded him," I said.
Lincoln arched a brow. "That's the first thing you have to say?"
"If these were medieval times, he'd have you executed."
"I doubt it. Not his own son. Thrown in the Tower to teach me a lesson, perhaps."
He said it so calmly and casually that it was easy to think that talking about the prince being his father didn't affect him. But I suspected it did. His smile did not reach his eyes. They were broody and grim.
I switched places to sit next to him, and curled into his side. He shifted his arm and placed it around my shoulders, holding me firmly. I kissed his cheek.
"I understand why you spoke to him that way," I said. "I do. But … " I sighed. "Give him a chance, Lincoln."
"To be a father to me? The time for that has long past, even if he wanted it, which I suspect he does not. I don't want or need a father." He kissed the top of my head. "You're everything I need now."
I tilted my face to peer at him. He squeezed my shoulders and set me aside. That was it, just a friendly squeeze.
I sat up straight and swallowed my sigh of disappointment. "What do you think about the imposter?"
"I think we have a problem."
"You mean the royal family have a problem-and the police. It seems to have nothing to do with us after all. Pity. I wouldn't mind returning to the palace again, or perhaps taking a turn around the garden. They're unlikely to invite us back now, unless the prince decides he'd like to get to know you better."
"He won't. Gone are the days when the illegitimate offspring of royalty enjoyed favor at court. I would be an embarrassment."
I covered his hand with mine. "You wouldn't have made a very good nobleman anyway. You hate dinner parties and small talk."
"And fine clothes. I'd have to wear a tie all the time." He drew my hand to his lips and kissed the back. "By the way, I think you're wrong."
"About what?"
"About the matter now being one for the police and not the ministry. I think there may be something supernatural at play. The Prince of Wales mentioned how similar the man was to his father in every way. The queen's lady must have thought so too or she wouldn't have sent for him."
I shrugged. "An illegitimate son playing a cruel trick. The prince may think his father a good man, but that doesn't mean he was."
"It's a possibility, but I want to explore more."
"Explore what? How could someone make themselves look like a dead man yet not be a blood relative?"
"A body changer."
I waited for him to go on, but he did not. "Like Lady Gillingham and my two friends from the School for Wayward Girls?" I asked. "But they look like beasts in their other form, not princes."
"Something similar to them but not the same."
"Then what?"
He looked out the window. The high hedges and ornate gates of the manors on the edge of Hampstead Heath passed us by at a swift pace. "We're nearly home. I'll explain everything to you and the others there."
I clicked my tongue and withdrew my hand from his. "You're a frustrating man."
He stroked the underside of my jaw with his thumb. "There's no time for more talking."
"Why not?"
"Because I need to do this."
He pulled me closer and kissed me. It was our first proper kiss in over a week and its intensity slammed into me, sending my blood racing. I'd wanted this, ached for it, and it seemed that he'd wanted it too. He held me firmly, not allowing me to move an inch. I didn't want to. Why would I when the kiss made my body sing?
Why had he not kissed me like this in all these long days? Because he was afraid of being seen? Or afraid of not being able to stop?
It could be why he left the kiss until now, only a few minutes from Lichfield. I would think about it more when I had the chance. For now, I wanted to wallow in his kiss, his warm arms, his unconditional love, and simply enjoy what time we had left alone.
The carriage stopped far sooner than I expected. Had we passed through the Lichfield gates already?
Lincoln set me aside, putting distance between us, and drew in a ragged breath. Without so much as a glance my way, he opened the door, startling Seth. Seth eyed the fogged windows and broke into a grin.
Lincoln pushed past him. "Something you want to say?" he growled
Seth's smile withered. "No!" He bent to lower the step for me.
Lincoln assisted me from the carriage. Behind him, Seth broke into a grin again and winked at me.
My face flushed.
"Meet us in the library as soon as you and Gus are ready," Lincoln told him. He offered me his arm and we walked in together.
Several minutes later, Seth and Gus joined Lincoln, myself, and Alice in the library. He'd decided to include her but had not explained why. Perhaps he simply thought she ought to know certain things now that she lived with us. Yet he had not asked Lady Vickers to join in.
Cook brought in tea and fruit cake and sat down. "How be the old girl, Charlie?"
"Her Majesty seemed sad," I said, pouring the tea. "I'm not sure if summoning her husband's spirit in her presence was a good idea."
"Does she look like her likeness?" Gus asked. At my frown, he pulled a penny out of his waistcoat pocket.
"A little older." I handed a cup and biscuit to Alice. "And thicker around the jaw."
"I cannot fathom meeting the queen," Alice said. "You're so fortunate. It'll be an experience you'll remember forever, and a good story to tell your children."
"It was an odd experience, overwhelming at first. Once her husband's spirit appeared, she became more … normal. I felt sorry for her."