Grave Expectations (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 4) (17 page)

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 both 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."

Y
ou 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 shaving, 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."

"Focus?"

"I should never have set aside my doubts."

"What doubts?"

"Your influence concerned me from the beginning, but I convinced myself that nothing would change. I was wrong. Everything changed. I changed. By keeping you here, I've been selfish. I haven't been thinking of you or the ministry."

"Don't lump my wellbeing in with the ministry's. And it's not selfish to want the one you love to be near you. That's human."

He paused at the dresser, his back to me. His shoulders slumped forward, but then he straightened again and continued transferring my clothes to the trunk. "You're better off away from me. You can't deny there have been many dangers."

"I think I should be the one to worry about my welfare. I should decide where I want to be, not you."

"This is my house. You are under my protection. I decide." His words echoed those of Lady Harcourt's the day before. She'd also reminded me in no uncertain terms that the house was his.

"You're being draconian."

"I'm thinking clearly for the first time in months."

"Then stop and think about what you're doing, Lincoln."

"I have thought about it. I've thought of nothing else."

"Don't make a hasty decision—"

"There is nothing hasty about it. Ever since returning from Paris, I've become more and more aware that I can't do my job properly with you here. I am the leader of the ministry. The position is not one I can set aside, and it's not one I can give only half of myself to. I need to focus on it entirely."

"That is absurd. Is this because you failed to find Mrs. Drinkwater? I already told you, that wasn't a failure—"

"This is not about that single incident!" He slammed the drawer shut, rattling the mirror, and jerked open the next one. "That was the final straw. It proved to me that I needed to focus more."

"It proved to
me
that we work better as a team than apart."

He said nothing but continued to pack for me. He stopped placing the clothes carefully in the trunk, and thrust them into it instead without a care for the delicate fabrics.

I swallowed, but the lump in my throat remained. "So…this is a permanent arrangement? You don't want me back at all?" My voice sounded small, pathetic, but I couldn't be strong anymore. My life was crumbling away before my eyes and I felt utterly powerless to stop it.

He continued to pack without answering.

My legs felt too weak to hold me. I sat heavily on the bed. "Our engagement…"

"It's best that we end it. You're young. You'll recover."

The tears slipped down my cheeks, my chin and dripped onto my lap. Recover? He thought this was just a passing infatuation for me? "No, Lincoln. I won't. Will you?"

His fingers scrunched into my chemise before he released it into the trunk. It lay in a crumpled heap. "Doyle will help you finish packing. You should dress and eat some breakfast. The journey will be a long one."

He strode out of the bedroom. I ran after him and once again caught his arm to stop him. He shook me off.

"I'll answer any questions about the school," he said. "But don't ask me again to change my mind."

I scoffed through my tears. "I'm too old for school."

"This is a school for young ladies, not children."

"Like a finishing school?"

"Of sorts."

"You've been talking to Lord Marchbank. He also mentioned sending me to a school all the way up in the north. It's the same one, isn't it? I might know nothing about being a lady, but I do know that finishing schools are usually in London or in cities on the continent."

"You'll be safe there—and busy. At the end of a year, you'll have more opportunities than you do now. The headmistress has assured me a position will be found for you in France or Italy as a governess or companion, preferably to an English family. Or you can stay on at the school as a teacher. The choice will be yours."

"Some bloody choice." I stared at him, trying to take it in. It all seemed too unreal, like a nightmare I would wake up from. "You and Marchbank have been making plans even though I told him I wasn't going."

"Marchbank mentioned the school to me months ago, but not since. I haven't discussed this with him recently. I haven't told him, or anyone, that you're going. This decision was mine alone."

"But you must have been planning it for a long time if you've already corresponded with the headmistress."

"I looked into it after you first came here but decided against it at the time. The headmistress assured me there would be a position for you if I change my mind."

"Lincoln, stop this." My voice was barely above a whisper. It was all I could manage through my tears.

He turned away and continued to the door. "You won't be without a home, and it's likely you'll make good friends there."

"
This
is my home! I have friends
here
!"

"You need to meet young women your own age."

I thrust my hands on my hips. "I won't go."

"A year at the school will present you with opportunities you wouldn't have had otherwise. It'll be good for you."

"I'll decide what's good for me. And I meet people perfectly well here."

"Not the right sort."

"The right sort?" I echoed. "You mean people like Lady Harcourt?"

His hand rested on the doorknob. He paused, his back to me. "You can't stay here. You'll be safe at the school."

"I'm not going to a damned school! I'd rather move back in with Stringer's gang and stay in London."

His knuckles turned white around the doorknob. "If you run away from Lichfield, I might not be able to find you again. At least if you're there…" He jerked open the door and walked out, closing it behind him.

I crumpled to the floor and drew my knees to my chest. This wasn't happening. He was hurt and worried, and that was making him do foolish things. He wouldn't go through with it, surely. He loved me, and he knew I loved him. He must know, deep down, that sending me away would destroy us both. I had to find a way to remind him of that. I had to get through to him.

I don't know how long I sat there. I only picked myself up off the floor when there was another knock at the door. My heart in my throat, I opened it, only to see Doyle standing there with a tray.

"Your breakfast, miss."

I took the tray and thanked him.

He cleared his throat. "I've been instructed to assist you with your packing and selecting a suitable outfit for traveling."

It seemed petty to not let him into the bedroom. The poor man was only doing as his master requested. It was Lincoln I needed to talk to, not Doyle.

I nibbled at the bacon, but didn't touch the egg. I wasn't hungry. Pulling my wrap around my shoulders, I joined Doyle in my bedroom. The trunk was full and a dark green woolen dress and underthings had been laid out on the bed.

"Forgive me," he muttered, coloring slightly. "A maid ought to have done this, but…" He trailed off.

"It's quite all right, Doyle. It wasn't fair of him to ask this of you. You may go."

He bowed and went to walk off.

"What did he say to you about all this?" I asked.

"Only that you were going away, miss. He didn't say where or for how long."

"Has he told the others?"

"Not that I am aware, miss. He gave me my orders in private."

After he left, I dressed quickly. I didn't close the trunk, but left it there. It wasn't going anywhere.

I went in search of Lincoln and found him in the kitchen with Seth, Gus and Cook. By the stunned looks on their faces, he'd just given them the news. The three of them turned wide-eyed stares to me, mouths ajar.

"We need to talk," I told Lincoln with a firm lift of my chin.

"There's no more to say. Further discussion will only make this more difficult." He pushed past me. "You have ten minutes."

I tried to grasp him, but he was too quick. I picked up my skirts to run after him, but Seth beat me to it. His footsteps echoed along the corridor up ahead.

"You can't do this!" I heard him shout. I didn't hear Lincoln's quieter response. "No! It's not! Think about—"

Lincoln must have cut him off, but once again his words were too low to reach me.

I raced up to them, Gus and Cook on my heels. Lincoln saw me, turned, and strode off. "Coward!" I snapped.

He didn't stop. I heard the front door open and close.

"Bloody hell," Gus muttered. "Has he lost his mind?"

Seth's eyes flashed with cold fury. I'd never seen him so angry before. "What has he told you?" he asked.

"That I'm going to a school in the north for a year. Afterward, I can travel to the continent and find work as a governess or—" I choked and couldn't finish.

Seth drew me into a hug. "He'll come to his senses soon enough."

"In ten minutes?"

"You need to talk to him."

"I've tried. He's not listening."

"Try again." He grabbed my hand. "Come on."

The four of us headed outside, but Lincoln was nowhere in sight. I leaned against the side of the house and folded my hands over my stomach. I felt sick. If I couldn't find him to talk to him, how could I change his mind?

"Don't worry," Seth said, returning after searching around the perimeter of the house. He breathed heavily, but I didn't think it was entirely from exertion. "We'll speak with him after you're gone if it comes to that."

"She ain't goin' nowhere," Gus growled.

"Aye, she be stayin' here with us," Cook said.

"She can't," Seth told him. "He made it clear that wasn't an option."

"Then we'll find her somewhere to stay nearby."

"She can live with my aunt," Gus said, nodding eagerly. "She'll like the company."

Seth stroked his chin. "It's a good idea. Perhaps we can find her employment."

"Doing what?" Cook shrugged his massive round shoulders. "She ain't got the right education for a governess or nurse, and I ain't letting her work in no factory."

"Domestic service?"

Cook snorted. "That be beneath her and you know it."

"At least it's a start!"

I rested my head against the cool, gray stones of the house. "I can't believe this is happening."

Seth put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. "It'll be all right. He just needs to calm down. He'll change his mind soon enough."

I no longer felt as confident. Lincoln was a stubborn man, and very adept at burying his emotions. But I had to hold out hope. After all, he did want me to go to the school so he'd know where to find me. If nothing else, I had to believe that he would fetch me one day. Perhaps even tomorrow, after he'd calmed down.

The rumble of wheels on gravel had all of us turning.

"It better not be someone from the committee," Gus said, squinting at the approaching coach.

"It be a hansom," Cook said.

"Not a hansom," Seth said. "Looks like a growler."

The two-horse coach pulled up at the front steps and Lincoln climbed out of the cabin. He paused when he saw me, then approached, his hands at his back. His eyes, half hooded beneath heavy lids, were blacker than London's bleakest night sky.