Page 44 of Grave Expectations
"Charlie! Charlie!" Gus threw his arms around me in a hug so fierce I could only gurgle in response.
"Easy now," Gordon said in a husky feminine voice that I could never associate with him. "Let her up."
Gus pulled away and patted my arms. "You all right?"
"I am. You?"
He nodded.
Thank God. I looked to Mrs. Drinkwater, standing near the door of the storeroom where Gus had been imprisoned. She swiped at her tears and handed the pistol to Gus. She was as meek as a mouse.
"All's well?" Gordon asked, marveling at his long gray hair. He stroked it, pulling out a clump. The body looked quite fresh. She must have only just died.
I suddenly giggled, partly in relief and partly because he looked ridiculous in the garish dress with feminine features. "You couldn't find a man's body?"
"This was all the mortuary had."
"Isn't the cemetery nearby?" I asked Mrs. Drinkwater. "Isn't that where your husband found his body?"
"The one on Old Brompton Road is few streets away to the east," she said.
"Ah. I went west." Gordon picked up his skirts and pirouetted. "Don't suppose I can stay in this body for the rest of the night. Just to see what it's like to—"
"No!" Three shouts drowned him out.
He held up his hands. "Very well. Walk back with me to the mortuary, Miss Charlie?"
"Of course." I turned to Mrs. Drinkwater. "Your husband's spirit has returned. Do not try to raise him again."
She nodded quickly. "I won't. I don't know how, anyway."
"If I were you, I'd get out of London," Gus muttered. "Death'll be furious when he finds out what you did."
Mrs. Drinkwater's lips trembled.
"Don't frighten her," I said. "Lincoln's not vindictive. He won't harm her."
Gus merely grunted. He took my hand and steered me along the corridor. "I hate this place."
"You must remove your husband's body," I said over my shoulder to Mrs. Drinkwater. "Return him to the cemetery tonight. Rest assured, Mr. Fitzroy won't come seeking vengeance. He's above that. You have my word."
She wiped at a tear that slid from her eye and looked down at her husband's limp form. I didn't know how she would manage to move him, and I didn't care. I just wanted to see that Gordon returned the body he'd borrowed and left too. I'd had enough of lingering spirits for one day.
The dark, miserable night embraced us. I wasn't sure of the hour, but nobody was out in the misty rain. Without so much as a cloak to huddle into, I was soon wet through to my skin and as cold as ice. I couldn't wait to get back to Lichfield and sit by the hearth with a bowl of Cook's soup and Lincoln's warm touch. He must be going out of his mind with worry.
Seth scooped me up, only setting me down when Cook demanded he have a turn hugging me. "Thank God you're back safe," Seth muttered. "We were so worried."
"Aye." Cook frowned as he studied the bruises around my throat. "You hurt bad?"
"Not really. I'm mostly tired, and very hungry."
"You need soup."
I kissed his cheek. "You're wonderful."
Gus thrust out his hands, exposing his bloodied wrists. "What about me? I was abducted tooandshot, and no one's givin' me soup."
Seth shrugged then enveloped his friend in a hug until Gus shoved him off, only to have Cook follow suit.
