Page 75 of From the Ashes
"They'll work it out."
"Eventually, perhaps, but in the meantime, the murderer is going to try again."
He gripped my shoulders. "I won't let anyone harm you. They wouldn't dare try."
"Oh, Lincoln, you can't be sure of that. And it's not just me. What about the evacuated supernaturals? They can't return to their homes until the killer is caught. You made them a promise that you'd help them."
His gaze shifted away.
I took his hands in both of mine. "Don't abandon them. Don't let the killer win."
"It's not a matter of winning or losing." He sounded so convincing, and yet he didn't look at me. I knew him. Lincoln would look me in the eye if he were telling the truth and needed me to believe it.
"It is, Lincoln. Itisabout those things. What it isn't about, is me or us. This is something else entirely. Don't abandon the ministry and those people because you think doing so will win my favor. It won't. You aren't the sort of man who steps back from his responsibilities. It's not in your nature, and I wouldn't want your nature to change." I could have gone on to tell him that I'd fallen in love with him exactly the way he was, but that would lead to an exploration of whether I loved him still. I wasn't ready to test that slippery path.
His fingers tightened and his gaze flicked to mine then away. "I gave my decision. My decisions are always final." Even a stranger could have heard the uncertainty in his voice that time.
My eyes fluttered closed in relief. I was so glad that I hadn't been wrong, and that he still wanted to be ministry leader. I didn't want to be the cause of him giving it all up. "Let them think you've resigned. That way, you can continue to search for the killer without the committee's interference."
"They'll learn what I'm doing sooner or later."
"Let's hope it's later,afteryou've uncovered the murderer."
He looked down at our hands. I'd forgotten they were still linked, and quickly pulled away. His formed fists at his sides. "Resigning may be the right thing to do," he said. "I've never considered what life would be like outside the ministry. I might like it."
More likely he'd go mad from boredom. There couldn't possibly be another job in the world that would keep him active, both in mind and body.
"I'll follow through on this case then decide," he said.
"Very well. If it's what you want." I folded my arms against a shiver. It was cold in the entrance hall. I longed for the fireplace again.
"You should ask Doyle to get the fire going in the library," he said. "I assume you'll stay up to hear Seth's account of the evening?"
I nodded. "What will you do?"
"I have a very vague report to write."
* * *
Lincoln, Seth and Gus joined me in the library upon their return. Gus crouched by the fire, his hands outstretched to the warmth, and sighed contentedly. The poor man had spent a lot of time out of doors lately, driving us around. The cold must be getting to him.
"Julia is upset that she wasn't invited, according to Buchanan," Seth told us. He cradled a brandy glass in his hand, although I wasn't sure if he needed it. His eyes were glazed enough and he sported an air of devil-may-care mischief.
Lincoln didn't mention that we'd seen Lady Harcourt and the other committee members, so I kept quiet too.
"It's begun, you know," Seth went on. "This will be the first of many events that she'll not be invited to. The rumor mill is churning out all sorts of things about her, much of it bandied around tonight, despite Buchanan's presence. He probably started most of it. He certainly seemed to enjoy hearing the more salacious tidbits about his step-mother."
"I almost feel sorry for her," I said.
"Don't," Seth said. "She doesn't deserve sympathy, least of all from you. Besides, part of what was said tonight is true. I ought to know; I've participated in some of it." He held up his glass in salute. "But no longer. Particularly when there are so many other ripe little peaches ready for the—"
"Seth!" Lincoln's bark cut Seth off.
Seth chuckled into his glass.
"I thought your mother wanted you to marry one of those little peaches," I said wryly.
"She does. Doesn't mean I'm going to." He shrugged. "If I have to endure parties and silly conversation, I might as well enjoy myself. Spoils of war, and all that."
