Page 20 of Beyond the Grave
He shifted his weight ever so slightly from one foot to the other. "You don't need to thank me."
"I do. I've forgotten in recent days how fortunate I am to be here. As…disappointed as I am, that you set me aside after that kiss, I'll always be grateful to you for allowing me to stay on inanycapacity. I don't resent being a maid here. Far from it."
He was silent for so long that I forced myself to look at him, catching him staring at me. His gaze darted to my left ear. "You earned your position here, Charlie, and I'm very aware that it's beneath you, as the daughter of either HollowayorFrankenstein. Your gratitude is misguided."
I twisted my hand around the walking stick knob and was about to admonish him for not accepting my thanks gracefully when he added, "But it is appreciated."
He turned on his heel, and since I couldn't run after him, I had to call out. "Why are you protecting Lady Harcourt so fiercely?"
He stopped in the doorway and unclasped his hands. He turned. "I'm not protecting her."
"You are. If it were another woman, you would have questioned her about her past and her relationship with her missing stepson in particular. You wouldn't leave any stone unturned, even if that stone appeared to be small and insignificant."
"Usually small and insignificant stones prove to be just that and nothing more. Besides, she has endured enough humiliation in her lifetime."
"You think dancing to earn enough money to live off is humiliating?"
"I imagine it was for her. She's a very proud woman."
He sounded as if he admired greatly. Or pitied her. Either way, he was clearly no longer angry with her for pressing me to question the spirit of Mr. Gurry, the tutor he'd killed. "I see." I busied myself with fluffing the cushions on the sofa to hide the tears welling in my eyes.
I was jealous. I knew it as clear as day, even though I'd never experienced the emotion before. That didn't mean I could extinguish it as easily as blowing out a flame.
I didn't hear his footsteps receding, but he had an extremely light step so I abandoned the cushion plumping and turned to leave. He was still standing in the doorway, his gaze on me. Intently.
"Charlie," he murmured.
I limped toward him. "Yes?"
"I…congratulate you on learning so much at The Alhambra. May I ask how you forced your informant to talk to you?"
That was it? That's what he wanted to say to me? "First of all, I didn't treat Miss Redding like an informant, but more of a confidant. With the application of a little sugar for sweetening, and a large dollop of lying, I simply allowed her to tell me what she wanted to tell me. It helped that she disliked Lady Harcourt when she was a dancer there, and her resentment has only deepened over the years."
A resentment born of envy and, perhaps, jealousy too. I hoped I would never be like Miss Redding, bitter and unhappy, and eager to knock another woman down from her pedestal when the opportunity presented itself. Good lord…wasI as bad as her?
My conscience weighed heavily on my shoulders and I could no longer look Lincoln in the eyes. What must he think of me? Probably that I was an immature, jealous little viper.
"Excuse me," I mumbled, stepping around him. "I have work to do before our guests arrive."
"Well done, Charlie," he said softly from closer behind me than I expected. "I doubt I could have learned what you did from Miss Redding."
He strode off in the direction of the stairs while I headed to the kitchen, again feeling a little bruised from our encounter, but not quite in the same way. This time the bruises had been inflicted by my own fists.
"Her brain is full of wool, and she's not much to look at," Seth was saying as I limped into the kitchen, "but she's got a malleable personality. Not to mention old Edgecombe was fond of his only daughter and handed over a plump dowry."
"Who?" I asked.
"Lady Harcourt—the younger, not the dowager." Seth sat on the edge of the table and put one foot up on a chair, only to have Gus shove it off.
"Talk and work," Gus snapped. "If your own woolly brain can manage to do two things at once."
I grinned, and Gus grinned back at me. Their banter was just what I needed to get out of my glum mood. "Pass me those cups and I'll arrange them."
"No, you sit. Seth and me'll do it."
"But—"
"No buts," Seth said. "You've been dusting for hours. Your foot must be aching."
