“It is. It is the one thought I’ve had consistently since I entered the Bell Tower.”
King glanced over his shoulder, brows raised.
“Life is too short. Don’t waste the time you have left.”
He blew out a breath and shook his head. “The time I have left? Because of you, all I have is time. I have no name, no fortune, no friends. Am I supposed to cherish this turn of events? Thank you that at least I’m not dead?”
“I expect no thanks from you, but I do believe, inadvertently, I have been kinder towards you than towards myself. All my life, I have been ruled by greed. It didn’t matter how much money I had; I wanted more. It didn’t matter how much power I had; I wanted more.”
“Well, I have no money and no power. Well done.”
“It is well done. Maybe you will find what I never did.”
King started for the door. “And what’s that?”
“Meaning? Love? Family? I wish I knew. I hope, whatever it is, you find it.”
“And I hope you go to hell.” King rapped on the door, summoning the guard.
“No doubt of that, George. Give it a few years, and perhaps you will see me there.”
The door opened, and King stepped out, cursing under his breath. He followed the guard down the stone steps and pushed past him and out into the sunshine.
Why had he bothered to come? Had he really thought his father would give him what he wanted? And whatdidhe want from his father? Love? King didn’t think his father was capable of love, unless it was love of power and money.
The guard who had met him at the Traitor’s Gate approached, and King walked to meet him. “I’m ready to go.” He returned to the barge, and when he floated back under the gate and onto the Thames, King did not look back at the Tower or his father’s cell.
He wanted nothing more than to return home and…
Home. Where was home? He had no home. The house had no doubt been leased to someone else, someone who could pay. His personal items had been sold to recompense his creditors. His family home, the country estate where he’d played as a child, had been returned to the Crown. So where was home? He’d been living at the Silver Unicorn, but Violet had made it clear she was allowing him to stay temporarily. He’d managed to extend that stay by working in the tavern and helping her to take on Ferryman.
But now Archie was recovering, and Ferryman was no longer a threat. King would be expected to move on. He would have to pack what little he had and leave. He could find another place. Perhaps he could go to the Continent. There were scores of former noblemen wandering about the Continent.
With a pang, King realized he did not want to leave. He cared about the boys, and he cared about Violet. It was more than that.
He loved her.
He’d known he loved her for days now, but he’d loved her since the day he’d met her. She didn’t love him. He thought she felt something for him—lust, most likely—but not love. She’d been hurt before by the loss of others, and it was clear to King she didn’t want to allow anyone else too close for fear of being hurt again.
He turned his head into the breeze coming off the water and tried not to laugh—or perhaps he was trying not to cry. How was it the one woman he’d fallen in love with wasn’t capable of loving him back? It was his father all over again.
Life is too short.
King didn’t need his father to tell him that. One day he was a wealthy marquess, and the next he was a poor publican. Who knew if the witch’s curse held more repercussions for him in the future?
Don’t waste the time you have left.
The echo of his father’s voice as he’d spoken those words forced King to sit. The seat on the barge was wet from the spray of water, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that he loved Violet. He might never find a woman like her again. No, he would definitelynotfind a woman like her again. She didn’t love him, but then again, she didn’t know he loved her.
He had to tell her. He couldn’t guess at her feelings. He might be wrong. What if she loved him too?
The barge had barely touched the dock before King was out and striding back to Seven Dials. It was late afternoon now. The tavern was certainly open, and he knew he’d find Violet there.
He was out of breath by the time he reached Clover Lane. As he’d guessed, the tavern was open and doing a brisk business. Violet was behind the bar, with Joshua running to and fro, delivering mugs of beer.
King stepped inside and paused to take in the scene. He didn’t remember the first time he’d come inside the Silver Unicorn. He’d been too drunk. But he remembered coming there the morning after. The tavern had been in shambles, with broken furniture piled against the wall, shards of glass glittering on the floor, spilled spirits making the wood sticky.
Now it looked clean and cozy. It could use a few more tables and the mirror behind the bar Violet was always going on about, but all in all, it was a decent establishment. He was proud of what they’d rebuilt. He was proud of the effort the boys had put in. He admired Violet’s determination.
