Page 64 of Her Majesty's Necromancer
"No." I yawned. "What happened? I heard a gunshot then everything went black."
"The Chinaman was about to shoot you, or me. I'm not entirely sure. I managed to turn you and put my body between yours and his, but as it turned out, the bullet missed us both and hit the lamp."
That explained the shattering glass and the sudden darkness. "How could he miss? He was so close."
"I knocked him as I entered the room." Lincoln's deliciously rich voice rumbled from his chest through my skin to my bones. I placed my palm against his chest to feel the vibrations, but he'd stopped talking. I felt his heart instead as it pounded a steady rhythm.
"Well done, both of you," I murmured. "But, Lincoln—Mr. Fitzroy, sir—why were you fighting Gordon?"
"I didn't know it was him. I saw him holding you then drop you on the bed. I thought it was the captain, perhaps."
I smiled as the vibrations of his voice met the thump of his heart. "You were saving me? That's very noble. I can ordinarily take care of myself now, but the opium smoke affected me. I wasn't expecting that."
"Clearly," he muttered.
"How did you know where to find me?"
"I read your note. It was considerate of you to leave one, and not rouse Cook."
"I'm not so affected that I can't detect your sarcasm," I told him around another yawn. "I'll have you know that Cook was in no state to come with me. He almost cut off a limb tonight."
"We'll discuss this in the morning, after you've had a good sleep."
"By discuss, do you mean you're going to rail at me?"
"I'll let that be a surprise for the morning." He didn't sound in the least angry. His arms tightened around me and his warm breath fanned my hair. "Thackery," he said.
My jacket came around my shoulders and I felt like I was being tucked into bed. I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew, I was on the back of a horse, still in Lincoln's arms. Gordon rode beside us, holding my horse's reins. I still felt like my eyes had sunk deep into my head, and my mouth was bone dry, but my brain appeared to be functioning normally again.
I put my arms around Lincoln and sighed into him. He tensed and I tensed too, but after a few moments, as my body relaxed, I felt the tension leach out of him. Was that because he thought I'd fallen asleep again? I didn't dare look up at him or move a muscle. I didn't want him to feel anxious for holding me. I liked it when he was more relaxed.
Some time later, we stopped, and I finally glanced around. We were at the cemetery, near Gordon's grave. He walked ahead of the horses, a spade in hand.
"Where did you get that?" I asked him.
"One of the groundsmen must have left it out." He clicked his tongue. "They ought to be more careful. There are so many thieves in these parts of late."
He handed the horses' reins to Lincoln then began shoveling soil out of his grave so that he could access the coffin. The effort would have left a living man breathing heavily and sweating profusely, but he simply leaned on the spade handle and smiled at me when he finished.
"I have to go now, dear Miss Charlie. Thank you for the adventure. I enjoyed most of it." He gave Lincoln a flat-lipped smile. "You've got a lot of tricks up your sleeve, sir. I've never met anyone who fought like you."
Lincoln inclined his head in a nod. "Next time, declare yourself."
Gordon's lips tightened even more. "If I get an opportunity, I will."
Gordon bowed to me. "Good bye, Miss Charlie. Take care. Don't go inhaling anything you shouldn't."
I grinned. "Thank you, Gordon. I appreciate everything you did tonight." I held out my hand and he took it without hesitation. Some skin flaked off at my touch, but I pretended not to notice. He let me go and bobbed down into his grave, out of my line of sight. "Ready?" I asked.
I heard the coffin lid close then a muffled, "Ready!"
"You are released, Gordon," I said. "Return to your afterlife."
I watched as his misty spirit rose from the grave and hovered above the headstone. He saluted me then swept up into the dark sky.
Lincoln turned the horses around and we rode out of the cemetery. Now that we were alone, and I was fully awake, it felt somewhat awkward. I should ask him to let me ride on my own, but I didn't. Nor did he suggest it. He continued to hold me in his lap, although both his hands were now occupied with all three sets of reins.
"Lincoln?" I said, peering at him in profile. There was just enough light from the streetlamps to see him clearly at such a close angle.
