"Send for my carriage," she said to Seth.

He seemed relieved to be dismissed and disappeared from the room. Lady Harcourt marched out of the dining room and into the hall. She gathered her hat and gloves, and Fitzroy helped her on with her coat. They didn't speak. Neither his hands nor his gaze lingered at her bare shoulders or neck. It was as if he didn't even notice the silky white skin, or care that she had moved closer to him than mere friends ought. There was nothing of the lover about the way he treated her. I wasn't surprised. I couldn't imagine him consumed with passion for her—or for anyone, for that matter.

Seth returned and the carriage wheels soon crunched on the gravel outside. He opened the front door for her and bowed. Lady Harcourt offered him her hand and he kissed it. Gus didn't receive the same privilege and he didn't look like he expected to.

"Walk me out, Lincoln," she said in a mild voice.

Fitzroy's gaze slid to me.

"I won't try to escape," I told him.

"Take him to the library and wait for me there." He followed Lady Harcourt outside.

Gus nodded at a door leading off from the entrance. "Library's in there."

Seth led the way and Gus followed behind me. I thought there'd been a great many books in Fitzroy's rooms, but the library held triple. Bookshelves reached to the ceiling on all the walls, leaving some gaps between them for lamps, windows and framed pictures. A circular iron chandelier, sporting dozens of candles, plunged from the ceiling rose, stopping just above the round table. Seth lit some in candlesticks and handed one to Gus.

"Over here," I told them. "I want to see the books."

"We ain't at your beck and call," Gus growled.

I ignored him and strolled around the room, brushing my fingers along the spines of the leather bound tomes, breathing their earthy scent into my lungs.

"Don't think about throwing them," Seth said, trailing behind me with a candle.

I paused at the window. Fitzroy and Lady Harcourt stood at the carriage door, talking. Or, rather, arguing, if her expression was anything to go by. His back was to me, but in the light cast by the moon and the coach lamps, her face looked stern, her body rigid.

"What do you think they're arguing about?" I asked.

Seth peered over my shoulder. "It's hard to say. You, perhaps, and Death's decision to keep you close. His decision to give Gus and me more responsibility."

"Or his decision not to take her to his bed," Gus said, coming up behind me on my other side and watching through the window too.

"You think it was his choice to end their…liaison?" I asked.

"Maybe."

Lady Harcourt spun round and climbed into the coach, ignoring Fitzroy's outstretched hand. He pulled it back as she slammed the door closed.

"If it were," Seth said, as the coach drove off, "he probably didn't end it the way a gentleman should."