Grave Expectations (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 4) Page 19

"Riding around the estate, I believe," Doyle said.

  "That doesn't sound like something he would do."

  "I overheard him tell Gus that he wanted to be nearby."

  "Oh. To keep an eye on me, I suppose, to insure I don't leave again." I sat at the table and sighed. "It does seem odd that he would go riding for no particular reason, though." He rarely rode for pleasure or exercise. If he wanted to stay nearby but felt restless, why not simply exercise in his rooms like he usually did, or offer to take me through a training session?

  The silence thickened as I ate my boiled egg, and I got the impression they weren't telling me everything. Instead of asking them, I went out to the stables. Gus and Seth greeted me with as much nervousness as Doyle and Cook had. Neither could hold my gaze for long.

  "You should go back inside," Gus said as he cleaned out the empty stall. The stall belonged to my horse but she was nowhere to be seen. "It's freezin' out here."

  I checked the next stall along for Lincoln's horse. It was also empty. "Who's riding Rosie?"

  Seth dusted off his hands. "Now don't get upset."

  "Ah. It must be Lady Harcourt if that's your first response."

  "Idiot," Gus muttered.

  "She sent a message early this morning," Seth told me. "She wanted to speak with Fitzroy but he refused to leave the estate."

  "Because of me?"

  He nodded.

  So he hadn't gone out to question his contacts about the killer, yet he hadn't come to me either.

  "He sent word back to her, summoning her here instead," Seth went on.

  "I'm sure that went down well. I doubt Lady Harcourt is used to being summoned anywhere these days."

  "She came wearing a riding habit. She didn't want to talk in the house."

  "Don't know why," Gus said, joining us. "We don't listen in on private conversations."

  "Speak for yourself," I told him.

  The corner of his mouth lifted but the smile was half hearted. "They've been gone a while now."

  I eyed the stable entrance. Was Lincoln giving her short shrift over helping Mrs. Drinkwater? Or was she needling her way back into his good graces with her charms and excuses? I wouldn't put it past her to have a credible answer prepared.

  "Is there something I can do in here?" I asked.

  "Why?" Seth hedged.

  "Because if I'm going to wait, I might as well be useful."

  "I don't think that's a good idea. Go back inside where it's warm. We'll tell Fitzroy you were looking for him when he returns."

  "The cold doesn't bother me. I won't even notice it once I start working."

  "Charlie, stop being difficult! I'm trying to get you out of the way so you won't come face to face with Julia. The air was tense enough when she arrived, and by the look on her face, she felt awful for what she'd done. Don't make this even more difficult for her."

  I snatched the broom out from beneath Gus's arm. Since he'd been leaning on it, he almost tumbled over. "I don't bloody care how difficult it is for her," I snapped at Seth. "She can bloody well face me, whether she likes it or not."

  His lips pressed together. "You are being deliberately obstreperous." He marched toward the back of the stables, opened a stall door and disappeared inside.

  "What's obstrep, obstrop…what's that word mean?" Gus whispered.

  "Interesting?" I said with a shrug.

  He chuckled.

  Seth exited the stall again, leading a horse behind him. He moved it into one of the clean stalls and shut the door. He pointed to the newly emptied one. "Go on then. You want to help, you can help in there. You know where the mops and pails are. Get to work."

  I peeked through the stall door. It was filthy. I pressed my hand to my nose but it didn't block out the smell of dung. "What have you been feeding him?"

  "No time for talking," Seth tossed over his shoulder as he walked away with a cocky step. "There's work to do."

  I signaled a rude hand gesture behind his back, coaxing another laugh from Gus.

  Some fifteen minutes later, the clip clop of horses' hooves in the courtyard signaled the return of Lincoln and Lady Harcourt. Now that my temper had cooled and the time had come to face them, I wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps if I'd spent some time with Lincoln alone I would have felt more at ease. Something was bothering him, and that bothered me. I was as anxious about seeing him as I was at seeing her.

  "Pleasant ride?" I heard Seth ask.

  "Not entirely unpleasant." Lady Harcourt sounded like she was in a good mood. If she'd sounded upset, perhaps I would have remained hidden and allowed her to leave without confronting her, but it was that cheerfulness that brought my temper bubbling to the surface all over again.

  I pushed open the stall door. Lady Harcourt's jaw dropped and Lincoln's hardened. She eyed me up and down, wrinkling her nose ever so slightly.

  "Good morning," I said tightly.

  "Good morning, Charlie," Lady Harcourt said, dismounting. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to speak with you."

  Seth and Gus made a hasty retreat, taking the horses with them, but Lincoln remained unmoved. He didn't seem surprised to see me or worried about the pending discussion. He showed no emotion whatsoever. Typical.

  "If you've come to apologize for helping Mrs. Drinkwater, then don't," I told Lady Harcourt. "What you did…it's unforgiveable."

  "I don't want your forgiveness," she said, oh-so-calmly.

  "You ought to."

  She tugged on the edge of her neat dove-gray riding jacket and glared down the length of her nose. "I came to explain to Lincoln—"

  "To Lincoln! I think I deserve some sort of explanation and apology more so than anyone, except Gus."

  "Calm down," she said through her teeth. "Your hysteria only makes you more childish."

  Lincoln caught my hand, trapping it to my side before I could strike her. His gaze locked with mine, and I got the feeling he was willing me to walk away, to leave the issue alone.

  But I couldn't. I snatched my hand out of his.

  "Julia was just leaving," he said.

  "Not until I hear the explanation she gave you," I said.

  She smoothed her hand over her hips. "It's private."

  "If it's about you dancing at The Al, I already know. We all do."

  She shot a glance toward the stall door where Seth was seeing to Rosie.

  "So is that the explanation you want to give?" I asked. "You were protecting your secret?"

  She inclined her head in a nod.

  "Do you hear yourself?" I asked her. "Do you hear how pathetic your excuse sounds, or do you think you're entirely justified in your actions because your secret remains safe?"

  "You're being immature," she snapped. "Not to mention unreasonable."

  "Unreasonable! You had me kidnapped!"

  "I did not have you kidnapped. Merry forced me to tell her all about you, then she decided to abduct you. It was nothing to do with me."

  "That's not what she told us. Yes, she blackmailed you, but you needn't have told her about my necromancy or about our advertisement for a housekeeper. You chose to do so."

  "She's lying. I've already explained as much to Lincoln. I don't need to go over it again. The issue is laid to rest."

  "I don't think she's the one who's lying."

  She arched a slender brow. "You're calling me a liar?"

  I arched my brow back at her.

  "Merry is a desperate, pathetic woman," she said. "It's she you should be blaming, not me."

  "Do you honestly believe the nonsense you're spouting?"

  "Besides, she didn't harm you, and she had no intention of harming you. She assured me of that from the outset. This argument is all quite obsolete since you were released unhurt, as she promised."

  I threw my hands in the air. "You two are more alike than you think. Neither of you is prepared to take responsibility for your own actions. It's always someone else's fault, or there's a good reason. I beg to differ. You are both to blame. You are bot
h horrid, selfish and weak."

  Her nostrils flared. Her body went rigid. "You're quite the little wasp when you get going."

  "This little wasp would like to say goodbye now." I stood there, waiting for her to leave. She did not. "Please leave immediately. You're no longer welcome here unless it's on ministry business. Good day, madam."

  "It's not your house to banish me from. It's Lincoln's."

  "We're engaged to be married and I live here. It's more my house than yours." God, I sounded pathetic, whiny. I hated that she'd reduced me to this, but I couldn't help myself.

  A short laugh burst from her throat. "Do you see now, Lincoln?"

  "See what?" I asked, glancing at him.

  He caught Lady Harcourt's elbow. From the way she winced, his grip must have been firm. "I think it's best that you go, Julia."

  "I do have to be elsewhere, as it happens." Her nose was so high it was a miracle it didn't graze the beams.

  Lincoln walked her out, leaving me standing there with my boots covered in muck and a mop in hand. My heart pounded harder than a thousand drums. The blood coursed through my veins, making me feel a little light-headed. While it felt good to express my anger, I was now more frustrated than ever. She hadn't been apologetic at all.

  "I can't believe it," Seth said from behind me. He and Gus had come out of the stalls and both stared after her. "She didn't care."

  Gus slapped him on the shoulder. "That's the woman you been protectin'. She ain't worth it."

  "I haven't been protecting her, I've been…" Seth shrugged and shook his head. "She didn't think what she'd done was wrong. Not even a little. I can't believe it."

  "You did good, Charlie." Gus patted my shoulder. "You told her a thing or two."

  I shook my head. "None of it made a difference. I might as well have been shouting down a well."

  Gus headed back into the stall and I left the stables to return to the house. Seth caught up to me in the courtyard. "Charlie, I want to apologize. You were right and I was wrong. She's a selfish shrew with only her own interests at heart. I want nothing more to do with her. She can keep her own bed warm at night from now on. Or get her stepson to do it."

  I stopped and gawped at him.

  "Don't look so surprised. It wasn't every night."

  "I…I suspected, but wasn't sure. Will you be all right?"

  "Of course. There was no affection between us, not on either side. We both needed a little release from time to time, that's all."

  He made it sound like sneezing, a necessary function but quite ordinary. I threw my arms around him and hugged him. "Thank you, Seth. I do hope you find a replacement."

  He laughed. "I already have a luscious redhead lined up."

  I punched him lightly on the arm. "I hope she takes you by surprise and sweeps you off your feet."

  He pulled a face. "No, thank you. I like my feet firmly on the ground. I'll leave the sweeping to him." He nodded at the side of the house where Lincoln was striding toward us.

  I waited for him and Seth headed back to the stables. "You should be inside," Lincoln said to me. No kiss, no banter, no discussion about Lady Harcourt. It wasn't what I expected, and certainly not what I wanted.

  "I am going inside," I growled. "I only came out here to see where you were. Not that I ought to have bothered. You were quite well occupied."

  "She came to explain. She explained. There's nothing more to it."

  "There is! She should be removed from the committee, for one thing."

  "She can't be removed. She inherited the position."

  "Then…she should be told what a horrible person she is. She should be made to see that her actions were despicable."

  "She has been told. You did that admirably. Whether that will affect her, I don't know."

  "That's another point." I poked him in the chest. "You didn't support me."

  He caught my finger before I poked him again, held it a moment, then let it go. "I already said my piece to Julia on the ride. She knows I'm furious with her."

  "Well. Good. I'm glad you told her, but that's somewhat irrelevant. A show of support just now would have been as much for my benefit as hers. I need to know you are on my side."

  His eyes narrowed. "I see."

  I waited for more, but none came. "You see? Is that it?"

  "I suspected you needed to get your anger off your chest. You seemed to know what you wanted to say and I saw no reason to interrupt. I didn't realize you would assume my silence meant I didn't support you."

  "Oh."

  "I do support everything you said to her, Charlie. I told her as much just now."

  "What did she say to that?"

  "That if I can't see that she's innocent, we can no longer be friends."

  It sounded like something one five year-old said to another after a fight over the last remaining slice of pie. And she called me the immature one. "What else did she say?"

  His gaze slid to the ground at our feet. "She pointed out that you have an uncontrollable temper."

  I huffed out a harsh laugh. "I suppose she told you that you were mad for wanting to marry such a hoyden."

  "Something of that nature."

  "Did you tell her that my temper only comes out when I'm very upset, like when someone kidnaps me, for example?"

  "I told her that you're quite tame most of the time."

  "Tame! I am not a horse, Lincoln!"

  That telltale muscle in his jaw jumped again. "I see you're still upset."

  I punched him in the arm, much harder than I'd punched Seth, and stormed off. He could have caught my hand but he didn't. I heard him following at a distance and turned. Stopped. He stopped too, out of reach. His gaze didn't meet mine. Something was still wrong.

  "Lincoln, what is it? What aren't you telling me?"

  He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, then said, "I wish to be undisturbed for the rest of the day."

  I blinked at him, hot tears burning my eyes. "Why?"

  "I need to think."

  "About?"

  "About what to do next."

  "Why can't we think together? We can discuss some ideas. We've worked well together in the past. Perhaps I should try summoning Holloway after all. Or the hired killer."

  "I prefer to think alone." He moved past me and opened the door to the house. "Mrs. Drinkwater was released this morning. She was of no further use."

  "I see," I said quietly, hardly listening.

  He signaled for me to walk ahead, but he soon peeled away when we reached the kitchen. He headed up the corridor without a backward glance, his strides long and purposeful.

  I watched him go, my heart like a lump of lead in my chest, my head woolly. I wanted to go after him, force him to tell me what was wrong.

  Because something was the matter. He hadn't been so cool toward me in a long time. I couldn't blame Lady Harcourt either—he'd been distant last night too. I had put it down to him being worried and angry that I'd investigated without him, but now I wasn't so sure. He would have told me if that were the case, and I doubted his anger would have lasted this long.

  Something else troubled him. Something that required him to close himself off from me for the rest of the day and night and not come out, despite my pleas.

  "We'll talk in the morning," was all he said through the door when I asked him to join us for dinner. "Go to bed, Charlie. You need to be well rested."

  Chapter 17

  You need to be well rested.

  Lincoln's words clanged in my head like an alarm. What did I need to be rested for? Summoning the spirits of Holloway and the hired killer? That was absurd. He was being patronizing and overbearing. I would tell him as much in the morning after we'd both had a chance to calm down.

  I had a restless night and awoke soon after dawn to a light knock on my door. Throwing a wrap around my shoulders, I opened it to see Lincoln standing there looking even worse than he had the day before. His hair fell in tangles to his shoulders, his jaw needed sh
aving, and spidery red lines criss-crossed his eyes.

  "What is it? What's wrong?" I reached for him, but he put his hands up, staying me. Dread settled in my gut like lump of ice.

  He reached down near the wall and that's when I noticed the traveling trunk. He picked it up and barged into my sitting room, heading straight for the bedroom. "Pack your things. Wear warm clothes and the amber necklace. You have an hour."

  I stared at him, but when he didn't offer more information, I rushed up to him and pulled his arm. "Where are we going?"

  "I'll explain after you've packed."

  "No, you'll explain now or I won't pack. Where are we going?"

  He flipped open the trunk lid. "To a school for young ladies in the north. It's—"

  "A school! You're sending me away?" My heart crashed. My insides twisted. This couldn't be happening.

  He opened the top drawer of my dresser. "It's for the best."

  "Lincoln! I understand that you're upset and angry over my leaving the house yesterday, but there's no need for this. You're overreacting."

  "I've thought about it all night and decided it's the best way. The only way. You have to leave."

  Breathing suddenly became as difficult as it had in the fire. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs, no matter how many gulps I took. Lincoln transferred some of my clothes into the trunk, refolding and placing them with methodical precision. His entire attention seemed focused on his task. He didn't even spare me a glance.

  This was all wrong. He didn't mean to do this, not really. Once I got through to him he would change his mind. I caught his face and forced him to look at me. But while he lifted his chin, his gaze didn't meet mine.

  "Look at me," I snapped.

  He did then pulled out of my grasp, but that brief moment had been long enough for me to see that the light in his eyes had gone out. The hard man I'd first encountered when I came to Lichfield had returned, the steely mask firmly in place. It was going to take more than a few words to get through to him.

  "Is this because you're worried about me?" I asked.

  He didn't answer.

  "Lincoln, sending me away isn't going to keep me safe. If anything, I'll be more exposed alone."

  "Nobody at the school will know that you're a necromancer, and no one here will know where you've gone. Besides, it's not entirely about keeping you safe. It's also about allowing me to focus again."