Her Majesty's Necromancer by C. J. Archer

my singular fault."
    "But alas you have many?" She grinned and took back the envelope. "I'll wait in the parlor."
    "He could be some time."
    "Will you join me until he returns?"
    He glanced over his shoulder toward the service area. "Why not?" He held out his arm and she took it. Together they strolled through to the parlor.
    I crept down the stairs and headed to the kitchen where I found Cook alone. "Is there anything for breakfast?" I asked.
    "Cold sausage. I ain't got time to heat it up, now her ladyship's here." He stirred the contents of the bowl wedged in the crook of his arm.
    "She has requested tea?"
    "She be stayin' for lunch. I weren't goin' to put out much, what with Fitzroy and Gus not here, but now I have to cook somethin' special."
    "You can't serve sandwiches?"
    He glared at me.
    "I suppose not. Can I help?"
    "You can get your own breakfast and stay out of my way."
    I saluted him, just as Lincoln strode into the kitchen. "Good morning, sir. Did you come in from the courtyard?"
    He nodded. He remained by the door, his arms folded, and watched Cook beat the contents of the bowl. I stabbed a sausage in the pan on the stove and ate it whole. It was warm, despite what Cook had said. He might be in a sour mood, but he'd known I would come down hungry.
    "Lady Harcourt's here," I told Lincoln.
    "I know."
    Cook slowed and looked up at his master. I stared at him too, waiting for him to say he was about to go in to see her. He didn't. Was he avoiding her?
    "Somethin' I can get you, sir?" Cook eventually asked.
    Lincoln inclined his head at me. "Charlie." He turned and walked out.
    I blinked at him then looked to Cook for an answer. He shrugged. "You better go," he whispered.
    I fetched my apron from the hook and raced after Lincoln. I'd just finished tying it when he stepped out of the little room that was supposed to be the butler's office but we used for storing the tennis and croquet equipment. Some of his hair had come loose from its leather tie and skimmed his jaw line. It was looking particularly wild, and coupled with the intensity of his gaze, I braced myself. What had I done now?
    "I need to speak plainly to you," he said.
    I swallowed. "Please do."
    "We didn't end the night on a good note."
    "No-o," I hedged.
    "Charlie…" He glanced over my head and drew in a deep breath. "I want to thank you."
    Oh. Well. I hadn't expected gratitude. "For bringing Gordon Thackery back?"
    "In part, but also for how you handled him once he was here. You charmed him last night. If you'd left him to my company alone, I doubt the events would have gone quite so effortlessly well."
    It was positively effusive praise, and for a moment I was rendered speechless. After our quarrel in the library, I hadn't been sure what he'd thought of the role I'd played. I'd even begun to suspect he regretted asking me to raise Gordon's spirit at all. "I appreciate your thanks, Mr. Fitzroy, but I'm happy to help. It was no trouble. I rather enjoyed it, dead bodies notwithstanding. Gordon was quite the gentleman. I'm only glad he was so willing. It wouldn't have been pleasant to have to coerce him."
    "You liked him."
    "I did. I suppose he charmed me as much as I charmed him." I laughed softly, but it faded as his eyes darkened. I cleared my throat. Since he neither moved away nor said anything further, I decided to push my luck. "Does your newfound gratitude mean you'll take me to Mr. Lee's after all?"
    "Not unless I can find a use for you there. At the moment, it's better that I work alone."
    "Very good. You're learning."
    He lifted both brows.
    "Your response today is more considered and diplomatic than the one you gave last night. I'll make allowances for your tiredness and forgive you completely." I shot him a bright grin to show him I was teasing.
    "Thank you," he said drily. "And I'll make allowances for your persistent nature and forgive you for asking me yet again."
    I gasped in mock horror. "Mr. Fitzroy, did you just make a joke?"
    "No." He