"He wanted you to change in front of him? Without proof that he could do so first?"
Harriet made a little sound in her throat, part horror, part surprise. She must have guessed her father's answer.
Erskine nodded. "It was the only thing I could do to get him to open up."
"And did he talk to you?"
"Once I returned to my human form, he became quite excited. He was eager to ask me about my changing, and we compared notes, as it were. I learned that he could also change into a wolf-like animal at will, but he was learning to change into other types of creatures."
"How could he learn to change into other things?" I asked, repeating his words for Harriet and Lincoln.
"From his friends. Some could change into other animals. There was a pack of them, you see. A pack of shape-changers, all learning off each other. According to this fellow, however, none succeeded in changing into anything other than their main form. He'd had the only success."
My voice, as I repeated this for Lincoln, sounded stunned.
"The group," Lincoln said, "where do they live?"
"Whitechapel."
The palace footmen saw the impersonator disappear into Whitechapel. The impersonator must be one of the men Erskine stumbled upon, if not the leader himself. "His name?" I asked.
"King," Erskine said, "but I'm unsure if that's his real name. He didn't strike me as the sort of fellow to give it out to a stranger, even one like him. If I had to guess, I'd say he and his friends weren't always law-abiding, like most folk from Whitechapel." His nose wrinkled, as if he could still smell the unwashed slum dwellers. "Although I sensed my every move was being watched from the moment I entered that Godforsaken rookery, I came to no harm, and I suspect I had him to thank for it. He didn't strike me as an uncivil man, either. Indeed, he spoke quite eloquently, and I didn't feel threatened in his presence."
"Where did you speak to him and where can we find him?"
"At the Cat and Fiddle. Whether he still drinks there, I wouldn't know, but someone ought to know him. He was a popular figure."
"How long ago was this?"
He glanced at Harriet. "She was still quite young, not yet a woman. About eleven or twelve years ago."
"Can you describe this Mr. King?"
"Receding brown hair, mid-twenties at the time, moustache and side whiskers. He was quite tall and powerfully built, very broad in the shoulders. Large hands and feet, too, which in hindsight, I think might be a trait of our kind."
"What do you mean?"
He glanced at his hand, still covering his daughter's. His was extraordinarily broad, the fingers thick and the knuckles bulging. Hers too, for a woman's hands. There was nothing delicate about them, although she wasn't a big woman on the whole.
"The first fellow I spoke with had big hands too, as do Harriet and I." He thrust out one bare foot. "And big feet too. Poor Harriet. She always had gloves and shoes made to fit. She couldn't find any readymade feminine ones in shops."
I repeated what I'd learned about Mr. King for Lincoln and Harriet. It gave me time to digest it all, and consider any further questions to ask Erskine. But I could think of none.
Lincoln, however, wanted to know more about Erskine's own family. "What of your relatives?" he asked.
"I have none. I knew nothing of my parents, and was brought up by a governess then tutors who oversaw my day-to-day welfare. The family lawyer who managed my affairs until I was of age. If they knew anything about my form changing, they never said and I never asked."
I repeated this for Lincoln.
"Daddy was very much alone," Harriet said. "That's what he always told me. It was just him and me. That's why he wanted to make sure I married a man older than myself, to care for me properly after Daddy was gone. Someone of solid stock and good family."
Erskine's form shimmered. "Just in the nick of time as it turned out," he said. "Not that I expected Gillingham to lock her away like this. Tell me, Miss Holloway, what's the story there? Ought I be worried?"
Harriet blinked her innocent eyes at me, waiting for me to repeat her father's words back to her. She was so naive and seemed to actually care for her husband. Or, at least, care enough to want his child. I decided to keep quiet about the particulars and my opinion of Gillingham. Lord Erskine could do nothing in his present form to make his son-in-law pay for his treatment of Harriet. It would only frustrate him.
"No," I said. "Mr. Fitzroy and I are seeing that her husband treats her well."
"Good. Good. Is there anything else?"
"Do we have any more questions for his lordship?" I asked Lincoln.
"Have you seen King since that day?" he asked.
"No," Erskine said. "Having met him and ascertained that there were others like us in the world, I had no need to see him again. Knowing that we weren't alone was the important point. I didn't want a friendship with the fellow."
I passed on his answer to Lincoln, then added my own question. "King never sought you out?"
"I never gave him my title or place of residence. That would be foolish. The man's a slum dweller. He may be like me in that we can both change our form, but we are nothing alike in any other way. I didn't dare risk giving him a clue as to where to find me."
"One cannot trust slum dwellers." He did not seem to detect my sarcasm. "Thank you for helping us, but it's time for you to leave now, my lord."
"He's going?" Harriet whispered, her lower lip trembling. "Oh, Daddy, I wish I could embrace you one last time."
"So do I." He nodded at me to repeat his words. I did. "Goodbye, my dear Harriet. Be a good girl and obey your husband."
I couldn't bring myself to repeat his last words, but I passed on his fondest regards and wishes. They both seemed satisfied with that.
Then I sent him back.
"Charlie!" Lady V's screech had everyone shuddering and Seth putting his hands over his ears. It was as painful as nails down a blackboard. She certainly knew how to make an entrance that could garner the attention of the room. "What are you wearing?"
I sat sprawled in an armchair in the parlor, a glass of sherry in hand. Lincoln and I had just finished telling Gus, Seth and Alice about our conversation with the spirit of Lord Erskine, but we hadn't had a chance to discuss the implications or devise a plan before Lady V arrived.
She was dressed for dinner in what I now knew was her only evening gown, a black velvet and lace dress with the large bustle that was a few years out of date but nevertheless looked regal on her tall figure. Bella had attempted to do her hair but, having been employed by Seth because of her pretty face and curves rather than her hairdressing skills, the arrangement already looked in danger of collapsing like a tent in the wind.
"I had a need to wear boy's clothes today," I said simply.
"What could you have possibly been doing that necessitated boys' clothing? Climbing trees?"
"Not trees," I said into my glass.
Gus smirked and Alice bit down on her lip, but it curved at the edges into a smile despite her efforts. Lincoln remained as impassive as ever by the window, a glass of brandy dangling from his fingertips.
"Leave Charlie alone, Mother," Seth scolded. "She is the lady of the house, after all, and can do as she pleases."
"Not yet," Lady V quipped.
I saluted her with my glass. "Quite right."
Lincoln set his glass down and placed both hands on the window sill at his back. I kept my gaze studiously ahead on Lady V, but I felt very aware of his sudden alertness.
"A small sherry before I go, please, Seth." Lady V sat on the sofa beside Alice. "And even if you were mistress of Lichfield, Charlie, you must be prepared to receive callers at all times, and that means dressing appropriately. In women's attire," she added, as if I might mistake her meaning.
"We rarely have callers," I said. "Except the committee members, and I don't particularly care for their opinions."
Lady V clicked her tongue. "I see we're not going to have a sensible conversation about it."
I sighed. "I promise to wear women's clothing at all times around the house, unless a particular situation arises where I must change. Does that suffice?"
She gave me one of her queenly nods. "Thank you. Now, will you please sit like a lady, at least, and not like an apprentice in his cups?"
I straightened my back and pressed my knees together. I felt just like Harriet, a good girl who did as others bade her, even when it meant the loss of her liberty. In her situation, I would have climbed out the window and run off. But I was not like her, not even now that I lived in a grand mansion with respectable people.
I crossed my legs and downed my sherry in a gulp. If Lady V disapproved, she gave no sign.
"Now, tell me what you've been doing that necessitated … " She looked me up and down, her nose wrinkled. " … that."
"I paid Lady Gillingham a visit, if you must know, and her husband is keeping her locked in her room for the night as punishment for coming here-"
"Locked away! Punishment!" She looked as if she would march to Gillingham's house and wring his neck. "That man's a monster. The poor girl must have been terribly upset."