Page 24 of Her Majesty's Necromancer
"Isn't he?" He sighed. "If you'll permit me to speak freely?"
"Of course."
"You crave a family, a place, a home."
"Lichfield is now my home, and you are all my family." My throat clogged with tears that I couldn't swallow past. Why did I want to cry? I hated crying, especially over a man. There were sadder things that deserved tears. Things that had happened to me in the past that had failed to unravel me like this.
"I know," he said softly. "That's why you shouldn't do anything to jeopardize what you have here. He'll throw you out if he feels your presence is making him weaker."
I spun round. "How am I making him weaker?"
"If he develops feelings for you, it makes him vulnerable. Fitzroy hates vulnerability in himself, and if you make him weak…" He shrugged. "He would force you to leave."
I blinked back tears and shook my head. "He wouldn't," I whispered. "He's not that cruel."
"Isn't he? Anyway, like I said, that's if he develops feelings for you. I'm not entirely certain he's capable of feeling anything."
"You're wrong about him, Seth."
"Am I? I've known him longer than you."
"That doesn't mean you know him better."
"Women," he muttered as he pushed off. "Moths have more sense. They know to stay away from flames like him."
I watched him go, my heart a dead weight in my chest. How many moths were circling Lincoln's flame? I wished I didn't care so much. It would make life far easier if I could do as Seth wanted and shrug off my feelings. Lincoln certainly seemed capable of shrugging off his desire for me.
***
"Charlie, wake up." Lincoln's deep voice nestled into my dreams. I wanted to hold it close, sink into its silky depths. His vigorous shaking of my foot was far more disruptive, however.
I sat up and he let my foot go. I rubbed my eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Come with me."
I blinked at him. He was fully dressed and not looking the least sleepy. He must have come straight from Jimmy and Pete's place. "Where to?"
"Whitechapel."
"Why?"
"You wanted to help," he said turning away. "Now is your opportunity. Dress in boys' clothes and your cloak."
I scrambled out of bed as he shut the door behind himself and waited in the corridor. I pulled on the boys' clothing I'd worn the day I'd arrived at Lichfield, and a black hooded cloak, gloves and boots. My hair would have to stay loose. I doubted he'd allow me the time to pin it back.
Without word, he strode ahead of me through the darkness. Neither of us needed a light to move around the house at night, but I was slower at descending the stairs than him. It would be just my luck to miss a step and tumble down. He waited for me at the base of the staircase then strode off again, through the kitchen and other service rooms and out the back door. I had to take two steps to his one to keep up.
A horse tethered to a bollard blew foggy air from its nostrils. The light of the glowing moon glinted off the metal stirrup as Lincoln held it for me. I hesitated, but not for more than a heartbeat. If he'd made the decision to invite me to help on a whim, I didn't want him thinking too much about it and risk having him change his mind. I might never get the opportunity again.
I hoisted myself into the saddle and tried to correct my balance. Seth had given me some riding lessons but I wasn't very good; I much preferred to have both feet on solid ground. It felt somewhat more natural and comfortable with trousers on, as I sat astride like a man instead of sidesaddle. I was beginning to think I could get used to riding if I always sat astride—until Lincoln mounted and disrupted my composure.
He sat in front of me and directed me to hold on. I circled my arms around his waist and rested my cheek to his back. Even through the layers of clothing I could feel his warmth and the ridged muscles of his stomach. Every part of him felt taught, but I got no chance to ponder that when the horse moved. It didn't walk or trot, but flew down the drive to the gates. At least it felt like flying, the beast was going that fast. I held on, not only with my hands and arms, but with my thighs and feet too.
"Charlie." Lincoln's hand closed over mine at his stomach. "Relax your fingers. I need to breathe."
"I will relax them when you hold the reins in both hands again."
He let me go and I loosened my grip a little.
