Page 64 of Beyond the Grave
He stopped at the base of the stairs but did not turn around. He rested a hand on the balustrade. After a moment, he finally said, "My pleasure." Then he took two stairs at a time and disappeared from sight.
Ididn't stayoutside for long after it began to rain. Upon returning inside, Lincoln found me as I headed to my rooms.
"You're here," he said simply. "Good. Collect your coat and gloves if you want to come with me to Harcourt House."
"We're going to confront Lord and Lady Harcourt?"
"Yes."
"What if the dowager's there? You wanted to shield her from what we'd learned about her. I don't think we can do that if we reveal what we know."
"We can't, and it was a futile and misguided suggestion on my part. I should have listened to you." He gave a stiff nod. "You said there might be a link between her, The Alhambra and Buchanan's disappearance, and you've been proven right. I'm sorry I doubted you, Charlie."
He strode past me, leaving me staring at his back. I wasn't sure which shocked me more—that he was wrong or that he admitted it.
I hurried up the stairs. The cool air outside had cleared my head. I no longer felt stunned to stupidity by the news in the letter; I was energized by it. I felt more whole—complete. Before, it was as if I were reaching into the dark and finding emptiness. Now I felt like I carried a small lamp and could see a person nearby, almost within reach. I very much wanted to go to the orphanage with Lincoln. It spurred me on to find Buchanan and finish our business faster. Confronting the Harcourts was a good place to start.
Seth and Gus both drove us since they claimed to have nothing better to do. I suspected they simply wanted to get away from the housework and gardening. I traveled in the cabin with Lincoln and pretended not to feel awkward as he watched me from the opposite seat.
"You're happy," he hedged when we were almost at Harcourt House.
"I am."
"Because of the news from France?"
I nodded, smiling.
"You didn't seem happy when I told you in the kitchen."
"It came as a surprise, that's all. It took some time to sink in."
"Good." He hooked the curtain with his finger and tugged it back as far as it would go. He peered out at the elegant Mayfair houses. "I was afraid my actions had been thoughtless and made you unhappy."
I frowned. He seemed genuinely concerned that he'd upset me by seeking out information about my mother. "Lincoln, you've given me quite a number of gifts. This cloak for one thing, gloves and hats. The chatelaine most recently too."
He let go of the curtain and gave me his attention.
"But none of them are as special as the gift of that letter."
He returned to looking out the window and our gazes locked in the reflection. "It cost me nothing," he said, breaking the connection.
"It would have taken you considerable time to write all those letters to France. That's not nothing."
"The information is from the matron, not me. You can show her your gratitude when you meet her."
I shook my head and smiled. "You're impossible."
"And you're not like any female I've met."
I laughed. "Then you need to go to more balls and dinners."
"I doubt I'll find another there."
The coach slowed to a stop. It dipped as Seth jumped down. He opened the door and held out his hand for me, but I didn't take it straight away. I angled myself so that my body blocked the doorway then quickly kissed Lincoln on the cheek.
"The best gifts come from the heart," I told him, "not a jeweler's shop or the dressmaker's. Thank you for writing the letters and offering to take me to Paris. It's very sweet of you."
I had the very great satisfaction of seeing him stunned. His eyes had never been so wide, nor his jaw as slack. I stepped out of the coach, with a smile for Seth, and waited on the pavement. It was a long time before Lincoln emerged, his bland expression once more in place.
