Page 31 of Beyond the Grave
"Why are you all here?" he went on in the ensuing, stunned silence. "I have work to do. Go inside and have tea, if you wish. I won't be joining you." He took the horse's reins and led it around to the stables.
I watched him go, too stunned to move or think straight.
Gillingham's shouted words roused me. "This just proves that she is a weapon that can be used with the intent of doing good, only to have it backfire."
Lincoln didn't stop. The other three committee members piled into their coaches, leaving Gillingham alone, still shouting at the now empty space where Lincoln had been.
"She's dangerous! She shouldn't be allowed to roam free, even under your guidance!"
"Enough, Gilly," Lord Marchbank said through his lowered window. "Today is not the day."
"Agreed," said the general, also poking his head out the window. "We've confirmed what we needed to know, for now. Returning the spirit must be his priority. We'll tackle the matter of the girl another time, when he's not so busy. I'm only sorry we all made this journey for nothing." He ordered his coachman to drive on, and the carriage rolled away, following Lady Harcourt's.
Marchbank left next, and finally Gillingham climbed into his coach and thumped on the cabin ceiling with his walking stick.
I watched them leave with a heavy heart. I should have owned up to my actions. I should have told them I'd operated without Lincoln's consent; indeed, I had gone against his express order. It wasn't fair for him to take the blame when he didn't deserve it.
Why had I been so cowardly and stayed hidden?
I would fix this, as I would fix the problem of Estelle Pearson. Somehow.
But how? I needed to think, but I didn't want to return to the house. I walked away from it, toward the orchard, and climbed an apple tree. The fruit had all been picked, and only a few valiant rust-colored leaves clung to twigs. I went as high as I could go, lodging my good foot between the V of two joining branches and resting my injured foot lightly. The bark was damp, and I didn't want to get my only dry maid's uniform dirty, so I didn't sit or lean like I wanted to, but just stood, like a sailor clinging to a mast, searching the horizon.
I saw Lincoln approaching well before he reached me, but I didn't descend from my perch until he stopped at my tree.
"You can come down now," he said. "They're gone."
"I'm not up here to avoid the committee."
"Then why are you up there?"
"I…" I wasn't sure, to be honest. I'd just known that I needed to get away and be alone. Sometimes living in a vast house with only four other people seemed more crowded than a small basement hovel with a dozen boys all crammed in together. "I needed some fresh air."
"In a tree?"
I jumped from the lowest branch to the ground, landing so lightly on my feet that my injured foot didn't hurt at all. I used to climb a lot when I pretended to be a boy, but rarely trees. Mostly over fences or low walls and through windows.
"Thank you," I said. "I heard you take the blame."
"I thought so. I knew you were hiding there."
Had he sensed me or had he seen me? "Is that why you did it?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"It was easier."
"For me, yes, but not for you."
He folded his arms over his chest.
"Lincoln, I do appreciate what you did. Very much. I will set it to rights at the first opportunity, and tell them I acted without your consent."
"And give them more ammunition to send you away? No, Charlie. I forbid it, and this time I'm deadly serious. It's better for you if they think I ordered you."
"But—"
