She hesitated.
Stephen’s heart stuttered. Was she worried about the seats and the bumpiness of the road, or was she realizing that she, too, could not bear to be separated from Ste—
“Of course we can drive straight through,” Elizabeth said loudly. “I can do anything.”
His chest seized. Of course she could do anything. He had no choice but to let her go.
In no time at all, the Wynchesters were packed and ready. The hired carriages to cart all of Stephen’s other creations and supplies wouldn’t arrive until morning. Which left him nothing to do but stand there on the side of the road to wave goodbye.
And hope his broken heart didn’t show on his face.
Elizabeth was the last to climb into a carriage, pausing just outside the open door.
Stephen gave up on being stoic. He sprinted to the carriage before it could swallow her whole. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his frantic lips to hers, telling her without words that she was the most exquisite berserker he’d ever known. His favorite person, whom he would miss more than he’d missed anything else in his life.
She squeezed him back. And kissed him.
And then she let him go.
44
Elizabeth could not stand being cooped up in a carriage for this many hours.
Not because of her exhausted joints, which pained her. Or her aching hip, which hated her. Or even the endless monotony of bumping over rocks and ruts again and again, mile after godforsaken mile.
It was because the carriage was taking her away from Stephen.
Philippa’s furtive, commiserative glances made Elizabeth feel like her heretofore unknown emotions and barely constrained hysteria weren’t ridiculous at all. That it might, in fact, be understandable, were Elizabeth to leap from the moving carriage and crawl back to Castle Harbrook on her knees if that was what it took.
But Philippa was a romantic. She spent her free time with her nose in some star-crossed lovers saga or another. When Philippa wasn’t actively practicing romance with Tommy. Or performing both tasks at the same time, as she was now, with her head on Tommy’s shoulder and an open gothic novel on her lap, and her eyes… on Elizabeth, damn it, and not on the pages of romantic melodrama at all.
“Um,” said Philippa.
“I’m fine,” Elizabeth snapped preemptively.
The only thing worse than being seated across from a pair of snuggling romantics… was sharing the other seat with an even worseromantic. Jacob’s sad-puppy brown eyes had beenoh-you-poor-thinging her for the entire journey back to Islington.
Only Tommy wasn’t acting like Elizabeth’s inner turmoil was visible all over her face like an outbreak of measles. It was worse. Tommy was acting like she believed Elizabeth’s bravado and bought her nonchalance at leaving behind the sole non–family member who had ever made Elizabeth feel truly at home.
“Bet you’re glad to be rid of that tinker,” Tommy said cheerfully.
“Mm,” Elizabeth managed noncommittally.
“A full month with a stodgy professor type must have been torture,” Tommy continued.
Elizabeth kept her gaze firmly out the window. “Torture.”
“Once you’re back to your real life, you can resume your search for the warrior of your dreams, just like you’ve always wanted. Someone who swashbuckles at your side, rather than peers down from a turret like a princess locked in a tower.”
“Shut up, Tommy,” Elizabeth whispered desperately, then risked a glance her sister’s way.
Tommy was gazing at her with an expression of such innocent, absolute blankness that Elizabeth knew then and there her sister had been needling her on purpose.
“I liked Stephen,” said Philippa.
“I liked him, too,” said Jacob.
Elizabethlovedhim. And she’d walked away rather than say so. Chosesafetyrather than risk and romance.
