Page 6 of Beyond the Grave
"Perhaps I do, but I'd like to hear you say it." Making him feel uncomfortable was the only weapon in my arsenal. It was pathetic, but it was my only hope for a triumph of any kind, and I was sorely in need of just a little win.
His finger stilled. He turned toward me. "I cannot wed you, Charlie, and I will not bed you. You are too…young to be ruined."
My heart pinched. "Ah. I see. The vicar's daughter, fallen on hard times, is not good enough for the son of a gentleman."
His gaze skewered me. His hand curled into a fist on the book "You think I care for society conventions?"
My own gaze faltered. "I…is that not what you meant? Not that I was expecting a proposal after just one kiss, but I do see how a gentleman—albeit one of dubious morals—would think that I did."Stop babbling, Charlie.
"No," he growled. "That's not what I meant. Must I spell it out to you?"
I lifted my chin. "It would seem I'm a little slow to grasp your meaning. It must be because I'm tooyoungto understand it."
He grunted. "Your wit is as sharp as ever, I see."
"Your avoidance in answering is as obvious as ever."
He sprang to his feet, making my already restless nerves jump. "You think I'm enjoying this?"
"I don't know. It's sometimes difficult to tell what you think." Our gazes locked in a brutal clash that was both thrilling and disturbing. I was caught between wanting to slap his cheek and kiss him senseless. I grabbed his hand, trapping it. "Tell me, Lincoln. Tell me why you would kiss me with such tenderness and passion then abandon me." I had hoped to appear defiant, controlled, but my trembling betrayed me.
He looked down at our linked hands and expelled a measured breath that seemed to expunge some of his anger along with it. "Because it's better I abandon you now and not later."
I tightened my grip. "Why would you abandon me at all?"
He snatched his hand away and strode to the fireplace. He stood with his back to me, one forearm resting on the enormous marble mantel. "It's not in my nature to be the man you wish me to be. The man you deserve."
"Oh, Lincoln." I sighed and stood on my good foot. "Why not let me be the judge of that?"
He slapped his hand against the mantel, startling me into plopping down on the chair. He stalked back to me, all predator again; a sleek and powerful animal that was both beautiful and dangerous, and utterly compelling. It never ceased to amaze me that he could switch from perfect gentleman to beast within the blink of an eye.
He stood over me, a powerful, raging force trapped inside thick, impenetrable walls. "You romanticize me. You defend my actions and tell yourself that I've been forced to commit the sins I have. That's why. But the truth is, I am not capable of selflessness or compassion, and I am certainly not capable of love. I'm a tool, honed to do one thing—lead the Ministry of Curiosities—using whatever methods are at my disposal, no matter how immoral or illegal. Expect more of me than that and you will be disappointed."
I felt as if all the air had been sucked out of me. I sank into the chair, a deflated, empty balloon. Not even tears welled. This man was so different to the one who'd kissed me that I began to wonder if he was right, that I had romanticized him. That he wasn't the man I'd hoped he could be.
"The kiss was a moment of weakness on my part," he said, voice cooler. "You are not to blame." He turned away and headed for the door with giant strides.
"You could have bedded me, Lincoln." I was surprised to hear how steady my voice sounded, but even more surprised at the conviction behind my words. Yet I suddenly felt very strongly about what I wanted to say, and I would shout it at him if he continued to walk away. Fortunately, he stopped before opening the library door, but he did not turn around. "You had ample opportunity that night and since, and I would not have put up any resistance beyond what is expected of a well brought up young woman. Yet you chose not to. You chose to protect my honor. What's more, you haven't blamed my lowly position for your rejection, but taken all the blame upon yourself. The amoral man you describe would have done neither of those things."
For one heart-pounding moment I thought it had worked. I thought he was going to come back to me and beg my forgiveness for his cruel words. But he did not. He reached for the doorknob.
"You're a coward, Lincoln. Your feelings trouble you and you don't know how to—"
"ENOUGH!"
My scalp prickled. A cold chill crept into my bones and settled there.
He regarded me from beneath long black lashes, the muscles in his face rigid with fury. I swallowed. I'd gone too far this time. My hot temper had often caused me problems, and this time I'd let it off the leash for too long. I prayed I had not done irreparable damage.
"I'm a man of my word, Charlie, and that is perhaps the only admirable trait you can lay at my feet. I will do what I can to protect you, because I promised to do so. I will endure your presence here because you have nowhere else to go. But more than that, I cannot offer."
Endure? Is that what I was to him? A thing to be endured, like a dull lecture? Had I got him so completely wrong after all, and he did not have tender feelings for me?
How would I even know for sure? I'd thought I did from that kiss, but it seemed I'd been wrong. I couldn't trust my instincts when it came to Lincoln.
He jerked open the door and left me alone with my misery and confusion. His footsteps were so light that I couldn't tell in which direction he went, but the front door opened and closed so he must have gone outside.
I swiped at my damp eyes and gathered my frayed nerves together. It was good to have it out with him. I needed to know where I stood. Knowing was better than wondering and hoping.
