“Wonder what kept her so late,” Vera said. “She didn’t have as far to come as you did.”

“Yes, but I took a hackney. She likely walked.” That had been a worry about their decision to meet here, knowing she’d need to walk. But Gemma could be as stubborn as she was sunny.

Gemma stepped inside the room, and Barnabus was struck again by the gauntness that still hung about her. She must have struggled to eat regularly for weeks before returning to Finsbury. Would that happen again if she decided to leave?

She offered no greetings to the room, looked at no one, but there was no mistaking the heaviness in her expression. Something was worrying her, and she so seldom let that show.

He moved to where she stood. “Gemma?”

She seemed only a little startled, likely on account of how softly he’d spoken. She looked at him. Worry and hope collided in his chest, setting off an explosion of confusion.

“What’s the matter, Gemma?”

“Nothing I cain’t sort out.”

He took her hands in his. “You’ve trusted me before,” he whispered, uncertain how much she wanted the rest of the room to overhear. “You can trust me now.”

Gemma watched him, emotions battling in her eyes. She looked to Vera. “Have you a room we could slip into for a moment?”

“Any room at the top of the stairs.”

She kept her hand in his as they left the sitting room but let go as they climbed the stairs. She stepped into the first room on the landing. He closed the door behind them.

Her breathing was so tense he heard it.

“My family is looking for me,” she said, her voice shaking.

Fear seized his heart. “Your father’s dead.”

“He ain’t the only Kincaid. They’re all terrors. Every blasted one of ’em.” She paced away, though she couldn’t go far in the small room.

He watched her, his mind spinning. Was she safe? Did she need to be hidden? Ought he to involve the DPS? “Tell me what you’ve heard.”

“The Kincaids’ve come into a heap o’ work, not the ‘snatch a job as you’re able’ variety. There’s a man, a dangerous man, who’s hired them on to resurrect people on the regular. This rum cove what hired them, he hushes people, then has my family dig them up to make everyone else that much more afraid of him.”

A shiver tiptoed down Barnabus’s spine. She was talking of the Mastiff; he was certain of it.

“They’ve steady work now, but if they’re to keep pace, they need more hands that know how to do the job without needing to be taught.”

She had been forced into their trade from a young age. He knew from countless conversations and late nights when nightmares had plagued her that she’d hated it.