From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(61)

He turned slowly to me. His face seemed different and it took me a moment to realize that it had softened. "Yes, I do."

He couldn't mean that. He couldn't simply step aside and let them take his life's purpose away from him. "Lincoln, you need time to consider what it means."

"I know what it means. It's what I want."

"But—"

"He's made his decision," Lady Harcourt bit off. "It's final." She put out her hand for one of the gentlemen to assist her to her feet. After a moment, Marchbank took it.

"I don't like it," Eastbrooke said with a shake of his head.

"Your opposition was noted earlier." Gillingham stamped his walking stick onto the floor. "As March stated, you were outvoted. It's time to consider the future."

"This is madness." I included Lincoln in that assessment and let him know it with a glare. "Who'll be leader now?"

"That's none of your concern," Gillingham said.

I appealed to Marchbank. "I thought you were on his side!"

"I'm not on any side. I do what I think is right for the ministry. In this instance, I believe Fitzroy has acted rashly in sending the supernaturals away and not informing us of their whereabouts, and yours." He extended his hand. Lincoln shook it. "Hopefully it's only temporary. If you bring the supernaturals back, all will be forgiven."

"Hardly," Gillingham muttered.

"I won't be accepting the position," Lincoln said.

I shook my head. I no longer understood him.

Gillingham was the first to leave, followed by Lady Harcourt, her head high. Even so, her stride lacked its usual grace and her back wasn't quite as stiff.

General Eastbrooke heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I would never have believed it, but you've gone soft, Lincoln." His glance at me left no doubt as to where he laid blame.

"Goodbye, General," Lincoln intoned.

Eastbrooke sighed again then left too. I followed, a little ahead of Lord Marchbank and Lincoln.

"It's not too late," Marchbank said quietly. "Bring back the supernaturals, or tell us where they are, and you can resume your position as leader."

"I won't be bringing them back while their lives are in danger. When you catch the murderer, which I sincerely hope you do, and they return to London, I won't be rejoining the ministry. It's time I moved on to other things."

"Very well. I accept your decision, even if I don't agree with it." We headed down the stairs to where Doyle stood handing out coats and hats. "I'll oversee the removal of your copies of the ministry files in the morning, as well as any notes on the search for the murderer."

"I'll write a report tonight. There isn't much to tell, I'm afraid. Be assured," he said, louder, so that the others could hear, "if anyone tries to harm Charlie, I will kill them."

Everyone looked to me. I wished I could hide behind the urn again, but I endured their scowls and disdainful sneers with what I hoped was a measure of dignity. None reacted with fear. Did that mean none of them was the killer? Or, if they were, did they no longer intend to kill me? Or did they think Lincoln wouldn't follow through on his threat?

"Your acceptance of our decision does you credit, Fitzroy," Marchbank said as he drew on his gloves. "To be honest, I expected you to fight it. Your reaction has been entirely selfless."

Selfless.

My god. Now I understood. I'd called Lincoln selfish only a few hours ago, so in an effort to prove that he could think of others, he'd set aside his own wishes and done what he thought was right. He'd agreed to step down as leader because he thought it was what I wanted, or perhaps what I needed. He had turned his entire life upside down, gone against everything he'd been raised to do, and given up his life's purpose for me. It was the most selfless thing he could have done.

But it was utterly wrong.

"Where is Seth?" Lady Harcourt asked, looking past Doyle to the shadows at he back of the entrance hall.

"At a dinner party with his mother," Lincoln said.

"Oh? Whose?"

"The Murrays. I believe Buchanan is there too."

"Ah, yes," Gillingham said with a slick smile. "I was invited, but declined. I believe all the young, popular set will be there, though. Didn't you get an invite, Julia?" His voice dripped with sugary cruelty.

She buried her chin in the gray fur of her coat collar. "Walk me out, General."

I waited until they were all gone and Doyle retreated before turning on Lincoln. "You didn't have to do that. You shouldn't have done that."

"I wanted to."

I smacked him in the shoulder. It was as effective as hitting rock. "Don't do this because you think it's what I want. It's not."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled his gaze with mine. "It's what I want." If he was lying, it was a bloody good act.

"You can't step away now. There's a murderer on the loose, and you're the best person to uncover the truth."

"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."