Grave Expectations (The Ministry of Curiosities Book 4) (18 page)

"It's time," he said stiffly. "Fetch your coat and gloves." He went to walk off, but I stepped in front of him.

I grasped his shoulders. "Stop it, Lincoln. Stop this at once. It's wrong and you know it."

He prised my fingers off and let my hands go. "No, Charlie. It was wrong of me to allow you to stay and let it get to this point. I should have sent you away months ago."

My tears, never far from the surface, welled again. "Don't say that," I whispered. "Don't pretend there's nothing between us."

"I know you feel hurt right now, but it will pass. You'll thank me one—"

"Thank you!" I stepped toward him but he stepped back. I drew in a shuddery breath and took strength from Seth's encouraging nod. "I love you, Lincoln, and sending me away won't stop me loving you. A year in the north won't stop me loving you, nor will a lifetime on the continent."

"Enough! You're only making it harder."

"If it's hard, then don't do it!"

He strode off toward the front steps and Gus pushed me after him. Gathering the shreds of my remaining strength, I picked up my skirts and raced up the steps. Once again I blocked his path.

He regarded me levelly, coolly, as if there'd never been heated kisses between us, or plans made to spend a lifetime together. It was like those first few days after my arrival at Lichfield all over again.

"This is Lady Harcourt's doing, isn't it?" I snapped. "She said something to you yesterday that made you doubt our relationship."

"It has nothing to do with her."

"She wants you for herself, Lincoln. You know that. That is behind everything she says and does."

"This has nothing to do with her," he repeated. "It's entirely my decision." He picked me up and deposited me out of the way.

When his hands left my waist, I went to slap him. He caught my wrist. We stood like that, so close that he must have been able to hear my heart thundering. It sounded deafening to me.

"Please, Lincoln," I whispered as my tears spilled. "Don't do this." I had promised myself that I wouldn't beg, but I was desperate now. Dignity be damned.

The muscles in his face slackened. He blinked rapidly and his lips parted ever so slightly. For that one brief moment I thought he had come to his senses. I caught a glimpse of his true self through the tiny crack in his mask.

Then his mouth shut and every muscle tensed. He let me go and marched into the house.

Seth ran after him, Gus at his heels, but after a few angry shouts that garnered no response from Lincoln, they returned. Cook drew me into a hug. He smelled of oranges. Another hand rested on my shoulder.

Nobody spoke.

Doyle came out with my trunk and passed it up to the coachman who secured it to the roof. He bowed to me, unsmiling. "Safe journey, miss. I'll keep the place in order until your return."

I opened my mouth to thank him, but no words came out. I offered him a smile, but it was weak and unconvincing.

I hugged Seth, Gus and Cook in turn. Cook surprised me by wiping his damp eyes. I patted his arm; the only comfort I was capable of providing.

"No need for that," Gus said. "She'll be back soon enough. He'll miss her too much." He kissed my cheek and drew me into another hug.

He only let me go when Seth elbowed him. "Gus is right, for once," he muttered into my hair. "Your exile won't last long."

"We'll bloody see that it don't," Gus added.

Fine, misty rain began to fall. It was the sort of rain that could last all week at this time of year and dampen the hardiest of spirits. It seemed appropriate for my departure from the place I called home. Five years ago it had also been raining when I was banished from the only home I'd known, and now it was raining again as I was banished from a different one. It was too cruel.

Seth helped me up the coach steps, folded them away, and shut the door. I tried not to cry as I peered out the window, but I couldn't turn off the tears. They streamed uncontrollably. My heart felt like it was disintegrating beneath the deluge. Soon the hole where it had been would be filled up with my tears until they overflowed.

The coach turned and drove off. I spun on the seat and waved out the rear window. My three friends and Doyle waved back.

I don't know what made me glance up to the tower room. A flutter of the curtain? Shadowy movement? I was glad that I did. It provided me with my last glimpse of Lincoln, standing in the window. He was too far away for me to see his expression, but it gave me hope, something to cling to. It meant he wasn't as indifferent to my departure as he seemed.

I pressed my palm to the coach window in a final plea, but he was already gone.

I
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he Emily Chambers
Spirit Medium Trilogy

The 1st Freak House Trilogy

The 2nd Freak House Trilogy

The 3rd Freak House Trilogy

The Ministry of Curiosities Series

The Assassins Guild Series

Lord Hawkesbury's Players Series

The Witchblade Chronicles

Courting His Countess

Surrender

Redemption

The Mercenary's Price