"Why do you care so much about that? I don't want it."
"You may not want it, but you need it. You don't want to get to my age and regret that you made a poor match because you didn't have access to the best ladies in your youth."
He stared at her. "I am lost for words."
"That's quite all right, dearest. You may thank me when your wits return, but please do so before I die. Or Charlie can summon me and you can tell me then."
Seth shook his head. "This conversation is one of the strangest I've ever had."
"Speaking of strange, thank goodness that gypsy woman arrived when she did," Lady Vickers said. "She certainly livened up a rather dull event. Not to mention the gossips have someone else to whisper about now."
"She was quite a crackpot," Seth agreed.
"Don't call her that in front of Lincoln," I warned them.
"Why not?"
I didn't want to tell them that Leisl was his mother, but I needed to explain why they must temper their comments in his presence. "She's a seer and so is he."
"He is?" both Lady Vickers and Alice said.
I saw no reason not to tell them. They were both aware of the supernatural and had kept the household secrets to themselves so far. Neither would want to jeopardize their situation at Lichfield by gossiping about us. "He is," I said. "His skill is minimal, however. He doesn't so much as have visions, as feelings about certain things, and an awareness about, well, about me, mostly." I didn't mention the vision he had that day we kissed. It was a private matter, a vision of both of us, together and happy.
I told them about Leisl's vision regarding the prince, and how he'd scoffed at her pronouncement.
"I wonder how his life will be in danger from a ghost," Seth said. "I can understand his reticence to believe her, particularly if he doesn't believe in the occult."
"He believes," I said. "The look on his face when she told him suggests he does."
"I wonder if that's how they met," Alice said. "She seemed to know him, although he denied it. Perhaps she told him his fortune at the fair once."
"He wouldn't attend the fair." Lady Vickers held up the statue's loin cloth and studied it back and front. "It's more likely she's one of his conquests."
"Mother," Seth growled. "Not in front of the young ladies."
"Tosh. They're not silly girls, and I'm not imparting anything they haven't already heard." She tucked the loincloth into her bodice. "This will make a lovely handkerchief. I'll take it with me to all the dinner parties and luncheons this week. I think it will be quite the sensation."
Seth groaned. "I blame America."
"For what?"
"For turning you into this shameless hoyden."
She laughed. "America is not to blame for that. It was my darling George's influence." She winked at Alice and me. She spoke often of George, the man who'd risen from footman to be her second husband. He'd been the love of her life. Alice and I enjoyed hearing stories about their time in America, and how wonderful George had been to her before his sudden death. Seth, however, usually walked out of the room.
He sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Are we nearly home?"
"I got leftover plum tarts," Cook said from the depths of the pantry. "Butter biscuits and two slices of orange cake."
"No bacon or eggs?" Gus asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He and Doyle had seen to the horses and coach upon our return, while Lady Vickers had retired immediately, with the assistance of her maid, Bella. The rest of us gathered in the kitchen where the range was still warm.
"It ain't breakfast," Cook said, setting a tray laden with food on the table.
Gus pounced on it, but Seth slapped his hand away. "Ladies first." He slid the tray toward Alice.
She took a biscuit and thanked him. Seth smiled then slid the tray closer to himself, away from Gus. It didn't stop Gus from reaching over and grabbing a tart.
Lincoln, standing at the stove, poured hot chocolate directly into cups that I handed out to everyone. Doyle didn't want one, and nor did he eat. He looked tired.
"Perhaps you should retire," I said quietly to him.
"Not while Mr. Fitzroy needs me," he said.
"I don't need you," Lincoln said, sitting beside me. "Charlie's right. You should retire."
Doyle looked as if he would protest but then seemed to think better of it. There really could be no arguing with Lincoln on this score. He'd never required the services of a valet before, and there was nothing else for Doyle to do. "Very good, sir. I'll see that all the doors are locked before I go up. Goodnight everyone, and a very happy new year."
At some point on the journey home, the clock had ticked past midnight and into 1890. A new year and a new beginning.
"How be the evening?" Cook asked once Doyle was gone. We kept no secrets from Doyle, but sometimes the men didn't feel as if he was one of us since he'd only joined the Lichfield Towers staff recently.
"Interesting," Seth told him. "My mother caused a commotion that means we'll probably never get invited back to the Hothfields."
Gus chuckled. "The more I know of your mother, the more I like her."
Seth wrinkled his nose. "If you marry her, I will not call you Papa."
That got everyone laughing, even Seth.
"She wasn't the only one causing commotions," Lincoln said.
I touched his knee under the table, wanting him to know that I supported his decision to discuss Leisl and her vision with the others. He rested his hand over mine.
"My mother showed up."
The kitchen filled with gasps, including my own. I hadn't expected him to tell them that.
"That gypsy is your mother?" Seth asked.
"Romany," I corrected. "They don't like being called gypsy."
"Could you not see the resemblance?" Lincoln asked.
"A little, now that you mention it," Seth said with a shrug. "But … if she's your mother, who's your father?"
Lincoln's fingers flexed around mine. "That information is not important."
Seth pressed his lips together and concentrated on his cup.
Lincoln briefly told Gus and Cook about Leisl's vision.
"The question is, what do we do now?" I asked. "The prince ought to be protected."
"How?" Cook asked. "He doesn't believe in her visions."
"He believes," Lincoln said. "He doesn't want to admit it."
"He'll be quaking in his jeweled slippers tonight then," Gus said with a snort.
"We should visit him tomorrow," I said.
Alice laughed softly. "Charlie, one doesn't simply pay calls on the royal family."
"There must be a way of getting word to him."
"Why not approach it a different way?" Seth asked. "You could summon the spirit of the dead prince consort and ask him if he's going to do something nasty to his son."
"That's a foolish plan," Gus scoffed. "He ain't going to admit it, for one. And what's he going to do in spirit form?"
"Haunt him to death," Cook said. "That's what I'd do."
"Haunt your own son!"
"Maybe the Prince O' Wales is a right turd and deserves it."
Seth nodded slowly. "He doesn't treat his mistresses all that well once he tires of them."
"They tell you that?" Gus asked, his mouth cocked in a sly grin.
Seth's gaze flicked to Alice. "Of course not. Why would I be in communication with the mistresses of His Royal Highness?"
"Got enough of your own to worry about, eh?" Cook's belly shook with his deep laugh.
"Half-wits," Seth muttered. "The point is, Cook may be right, and the prince consort might want his son to toe the royal line and straighten up now that he's middle aged. It won't be long before he'll take over the throne, but the way he acts, he won't be taken seriously by the public or government. It's not just the numerous mistresses; it's the parties, holidays and exorbitant expense. His lifestyle does not come cheaply or discreetly."
"That's a good theory," Alice said, "but his carefree lifestyle is not new and the prince consort has been dead a long time. Why threaten him now?"
"Perhaps the queen's ill and the ghost of her late husband knows it. Perhaps he sees the urgency now."
"I think the theory has merit," I said, "but if the spirit simply wants to scare the Prince of Wales, why is Leisl so concerned?"
"Perhaps she's overreacting," Seth said.
Alice bristled. "Because we females tend to?"
Seth held up his hands, warding her off. "Not at all," he said at the same moment Gus mumbled, "Aye."
Seth rolled his eyes. "And you wonder why no one wants to marry you."
"You ain't married neither," Gus shot back.
"That doesn't mean I haven't had proposals." Seth stood. "I'm going to bed. Alice, Charlie, can I escort you to your rooms?"
He escorted us along with Lincoln. My bedroom was a little down the corridor from Lincoln's. After Alice and Seth retreated to theirs, he steered me into the recessed doorway and rested his hand on the doorknob, barring my entry.