Page 68 of Beyond the Grave
Lincoln caughtHarcourt's fist a mere inch from his face. He didn't flinch. "Not in front of the ladies," he said.
Harcourt spluttered a garbled protest and looked as if he would wind up his other fist.
"Donald,please," his wife begged. She batted his shoulder with the hand that still clutched Lincoln's handkerchief, her face pale and pinched. "Don't fight him."
"Not here," Julia said, briskly. "I don't want blood on the sofa. Come now, everyone sit down and be friends again. This will not do."
I admired her determination to keep the meeting civilized. I wasn't sure I could have stepped between them like she did. While she shooed Harcourt with one hand, she placed her other on Lincoln's chest. Ah.NowI saw why she had stepped between them.
I folded my hands in my lap and kept my head bowed as Lincoln returned to the sofa beside me. I kept my gaze on my linked fingers.
"Explain yourself, Fitzroy," Harcourt snapped. "What is the meaning of your inquisition this time?"
"Your brother was seen fighting with someone at Emberly Park on the evening he disappeared. It was the last time he was seen."
I lifted my head when Harcourt didn't respond. All the bluster leached out of him as we all waited, watching. "Seen?" he asked.
"Only by John," Marguerite told him.
"Fighting with whom?"
"Presumably with you," Lincoln said.
Harcourt's brows rose. "Do you have proof?"
"Of your involvement? No. However, a button engraved with the letter B was found at the mausoleum, as was some blood. Your brother hasn't been sighted since."
Julia's narrowed gaze pinned me. "Is he… That is to say, do you think he has met with…?" She fingered the black choker at her throat.
"We believe he's still alive," I said before she could accidentally divulge my necromancy to the Harcourts.
Her eyes fluttered closed. She breathed deeply. "Thank God."
"Pray that you're right," Marguerite said weakly.
"Harcourt," Lincoln prompted. "It's time you explained what happened."
Lord Harcourt, however, had just registered my presence. "Why is your maid here?"
"She works for me as an assistant now. Everything you wish to say to me can be said in front of her."
"I think not."
Lincoln's small sigh probably couldn't be heard by anyone except me. He was frustrated, and I felt guilty at being the cause of it.
"Donald, please, just tell us what happened," Marguerite whined. "Where is Andrew?"
"I don't know," he said tightly. "And that is the truth. We met around dusk as I was out riding. He'd seen me as he approached the house and hailed me. We talked for a long time. It became heated and we fought. I'm afraid he did hit his head and lost some blood. He was quite groggy for several minutes, but then he got up. I can assure you, he walked away. I told him to call in at Dr. Turcott's house and have the wound seen to."
"He never saw the doctor," Lincoln said. "We don't think he made it back to the village."
Harcourt scrubbed his face. "My God. Where is he?"
"Why didn't you invite him to dine with us?" Marguerite asked. "If you had, none of this would have happened?"
"I did. He refused."
"But why? It's been so long since he's been to Emberly. To have come so far and not dine with his family…I don't understand it."
