The Ripper Affair (Bannon and Clare) by Lilith Saintcrow

Author:Lilith Saintcrow [Lilith Saintcrow]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction / Science Fiction / Steampunk, Fiction / Fantasy / Contemporary, Fiction / Fantasy / Paranormal, Fiction / Fantasy / Urban, Fiction / Romance / Fantasy
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2014-08-18T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tonight, Strike To Kill

“Oh, blast it all.” Emma’s temper frayed still further, and Finch’s head drew back between his thin, hunching shoulders, rather in the manner of a tortoise.

A telegram from Aberline, and Clare was out of the door like a shot. At least Philip had gone with him, and she could safely consign the mentath’s welfare to the list of problems not to be solved at the moment.

She took a deep breath. “Never mind. They shall distract my quarry admirably for the time being. Thank you, Finch.”

“Mum.” He paused, ready if she wished to add anything more.

Fortunately, she did. “I am closing the house. Pray let the other servants know, and take care none of the deliveries are allowed to step inside. I do not have time for the bother that would ensue.” Not to mention it might drive the prices of some goods up, and while she had a good head for business–a Collegia education rather instilled such a thing–there was no reason to be flagrant with what she had accumulated. A second thought occurred to her. “I do rather hope Clare does not bring his new acquaintance to my door. The result would be singularly unappealing.”

Finch’s posture did not change one whit. “Mr Clare said he did not quite trust the inspector’s motives regarding yourself, mum.”

“Did he now.” A thin thread of amusement bloomed, very much against her will. “Well, Mr Clare is wise to do so.” She halted, one foot on the first stair. “Finch… Geoffrey.”

He blinked, and the mild surprise on his thin face might have been amusing as well, except for the sudden flare of fear underneath it. Lime-green to Sight, bitter and acrid, it stung her far more sharply than she dared admit.

“I have not forgotten my promise,” she continued. “The inspector may go elsewhere to satisfy the grudges he bears both of us. Should you leave my service or retire, you shall be safely ensconced in a lovely warm foreign country with a comfortable independence before he receives a whisper of such an event.”

“I would not leave your service, mum.” Finch had drawn himself up. “Not willingly, God strike me down if I don’t mean it.”

Her smile was unguarded, and for once Emma was content to have it so. “Thank you, Finch.” She found her gloved hand had rested on his forearm, and her own shock at her familiarity was matched by Finch’s sudden thunderstruck expression. “I would be saddened to see you go.”

“Erm. Shall you be needing the carriage, mum?”

“No, thank you. I shall most likely return very late, possibly not before dawn. You may all go to bed early, I should think.”

“Yesmum.” And he glided away, suddenly very small and slight against the foyer’s restrained elegance. How Severine had clucked and fussed when Emma brought him home, how the housekeeper had expressed her disdain in every possible way until Emma had informed her tartly that she was the resident sorceress and Severine Noyon, treasured and valued as she was, did not have the final say in what or whom Emma pleased to employ.

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