Page 74 of Her Majesty's Necromancer
"I threw up in the bushes outside the St. George of the East mortuary. I don't call that an adventure."
He pulled a face and returned to his chopping, only to be told by Cook that he wasn't doing it right. I thought it best to leave them to their bickering.
I retrieved my apron from its hook and set to work in the scullery, then cleaned bedrooms and the bathroom. I paused only for a light lunch and to inspect Lincoln's collar when the laundress delivered it mid-afternoon. I took it upstairs along with the pressed shirt and mended jacket and knocked on his door.
He was writing at his desk but set his pen aside when I entered and flipped the lid of the silver inkwell closed. "Thank you, Charlie, I can take them from here," he said, rising.
"I'll lay them on the bed. You'll be the most dashing man there tonight." It wasn't easy to keep the sigh out of my voice, but I managed it.
"Every gentleman will be dressed as finely. I'll blend in."
I rejoined him in the sitting room. "That's not what I meant."
He sat on the edge of his desk, his hands gripping the desktop on either side of him. He didn't say anything further, so I took that as my dismissal.
"Is there anything I can get you?" I asked.
"No."
"Will we continue with our training this afternoon, or do you require time to prepare for the ball?"
"I think I can manage after training concludes." The dryness of his tone made me smile.
"Your hair might take longer than you think," I teased.
"Should I cut it?"
"No!"
Both his brows rose.
"I…think it suits you at that length." It more than suited him. It set him apart from the other gentleman, marked him as a little wild and uncontrollable, which he certainly was. While I ordinarily preferred a man with short hair, I couldn't imagine Lincoln's any other way. "Do you have a black ribbon to tie it? That leather strip won't do."
"There's one in a drawer somewhere. I'll look for it later."
"Very well. Come fetch me when you're ready for training." I smiled somewhat awkwardly and turned to go.
"Charlie. Wait." He knuckles whitened and his gaze didn't quite meet mine.
"Yes?" I murmured. "Is there something you need?"
"Your help."
"To tie the ribbon?"
He shook his head. "With…conversing."
"Oh? You mean you want to know how to engage someone in a conversation that has nothing to do with the paranormal, fighting, or grave robbing?"
"Don't tease me."
"Being teased and knowing how to tease is part of the art of conversing and flirting. Not that I think you ought to flirt just yet," I added quickly. "Leave that for when you're more comfortable with small talk."
"So how does one begin?"
"That depends. You need to adjust what you say according to the people you're with. Perhaps observe and listen for a few minutes before joining in. See what topics interest the group and gauge their general mood, then offer an opinion on something they're talking about. The gentlemen will no doubt discuss politics, and I've seen you read the newspapers. You must be able to say something appropriate."
"And if politics isn't the topic?"
