Page 76 of Beyond the Grave
I dropped my teacup into the saucer so hard that a small chip flew off. My face flamed. My heart thumped. I wanted to hear Lincoln's answer a little too much for my own comfort.
"Charlie is living here under my protection." Lincoln had gone quite still. Even his lips hardly moved as he spoke. "My feelings for her are as a guardian toward his ward."
My teacup rattled in its saucer. I set them down on the table and studied my hands in my lap. My guardian. So that's how it was for him. It was all very proper and respectable, considering the circumstances. And yet I didn't want proper and respectable. I wanted him to be very improper with me.
"I've never known you to allow anyone as much leeway as you give her," the general protested. "There's no other explanation."
"She is my employee," Lincoln ground out, delivering every word with a blunt, brutal edge. "To imply otherwise is inappropriate."
"Since when have you cared about what is appropriate? Anyway, you just said she is like a ward to you. So which is it? Ward or employee?"
Lincoln's answer was an ice-cold glare that forced even the formidable general to sway back a little.
"If this is true," Gillingham said, glancing between them, "she cannot stay here! Once she has you dancing to her tune she'll use her necromancy and unleash chaos!"
"That is ridiculous," I said.
Gillingham's head jerked round to look at me, but Lincoln got in before he spoke. "Charlie's right. This entire conversation is absurd. If you're quite done, then see yourselves to the door. We have work to do."
"Hear him out," Eastbrooke said.
Gillingham nodded his thanks at the general. "I know how women work, particularly women of her ilk."
"There is no ilk where Charlie is concerned," Lincoln said in that quiet, commanding voice of his.
The general shook his head sadly. "And you tell us you have no feelings for her," he muttered. "It is quite obvious that you do."
My heart lifted, and I frowned at Lincoln, trying to determine if there was any truth in the general's observations. But he merely scowled harder than I'd ever seen him scowl.
He strode to the door. "Good day, gentlemen."
The general shook his head sadly and followed, but Gillingham remained where he was. "Good lord, use your head, man! You must see that she has far too much power over you now."
"All I see is a man who is not listening to a thing I'm saying. Get out of my house before I throw you out."
Gillingham stalked past Lincoln, his walking stick barely hitting the floor. "This is not over."
Lincoln followed the two men, and I slipped through the far door that led to the unused music room to avoid him. In something of a daze, I made my way outside, desperate to escape the house. And Lincoln.
I needed a few moments alone to think. I ruled out hiding in the orchard. Autumn had stripped the trees of coverage, and he would look there first. The stables were now quiet except for horses munching on their feed. Seth and Gus had finished their duties. I climbed the ladder to the loft and picked my way past a rusty wheel, some tools, and a cracked leather saddle, to the bags of feed piled into a pyramid. I sat with my back to them and swiped at the tears dampening my cheeks, willing myself to stop being a pathetic fool.
But I couldn't dislodge the memory of Lincoln's face as he denied General Eastbrooke's accusation most vehemently. It had been one of stone-cold fury. If ever I needed proof that he had no feelings for me, that look was it. And, of course, his denial. Our kiss had merely been a heat-of-the-moment thing, hastily done and just as quickly forgotten. Eastbrooke had been wrong. Lincoln wasn't in love with me.
I didn't want to rejoin the household and face him just yet, so I stretched out my legs and rested my head against the rough calico. It smelled of oats and horse, a surprisingly comforting smell that lulled me.
I sat forward as I heard footsteps pause near the door before moving closer. The top of the ladder shook with the weight of someone climbing it.
I wasn't surprised to see Lincoln's unruly, dark hair appear. He remained on the ladder and regarded me through eyes still dark with the remnants of his anger. "This looks more comfortable than the orchard."
"How did you find me?"
He tilted his head to the side and regarded me with an arched brow.
"Oh. Yes, of course. I suppose I'll never truly be able to escape you." It was meant as a joke to lighten the mood, but his face fell.
"I know I'm not the easiest person to work for, but I hope you don't wish to escape me altogether."
"That's not what I meant. Of course I don't wish to go away. I'm happy here." I bit my lip to stop myself saying something that would make this moment even more awkward.
