Julian stumbled, reaching desperately for the metal handrail of the stairs. His gloved hand slipped on the slick metal and he fell to one knee. Harper grabbed his elbow, preventing him from falling. Julian hung for a moment over the steep, almost vertical staircase.
Below, the black water lapped against the tarred, barnacle-encrusted piles of the harbor. For a heartbeat, he consideredthrowing himself forward with all his strength, the darkness of it calling to him like a siren. It would be so simple, so easy, to give himself to that oblivion.
But then, his eyes alighted on the large boat that bobbed on the storm-churned waters at the foot of the steps. On one of the passengers sitting in the boat. She looked up at him from beneath her hat, face pale and eyes wide. It was… Ester?
The sight of her was an unfathomable jolt to his senses. He staggered to his feet, shaking off Harper’s steadying hand as though it singed him. Through the curtain of rain and the storm’s relentless fury, he saw her—Ester, rising from her seat in the boat, her lips shaping his name in the wind.
Though the rain stole the sound of it, he felt the shape of her name on his lips.
“I cannot,” Julian murmured, dazed, as Harper tried once more to steer him back toward the waiting ship.
“Your Grace, everything has been arranged. All of your possessions have been shipped. Theydon Mount is empty. If we do not take this ship, there is not another to Liverpool for a week.”
But Julian could scarcely hear him. He had backed far enough away from the edge of the wharf that he could no longer see her. That he even doubted that he had seen her.
“Your Grace,” Harper persisted, “the sailing is a matter of three days. She is bound for Cheshire, along the river Mersey most likely. We will be taking a ship north for the Cumbrian coast.Three days.”
Julian's heart twisted painfully in his chest, tearing him in two. He longed to be with Ester, to look upon her, look into her eyes, touch her... Yet he also wanted her as far from him as the earth would allow, safe from his very touch…
Gritting his teeth, he shook Harper off with a rough, determined shove, his resolve breaking and mending all at once. Stepping toward the edge of the wharf once more, he looked down.
There she was. Ester.
She had risen from her seat, trying to push her way to the steps, the very steps he stood above. A crewman reached out, trying to restrain her as the boat pitched dangerously in the black water.
“Unhand her!” Julian bellowed. His voice cut through the roar of the storm like a cannon blast.
He soared down the steps, covering three in a single bound. The uniformed shipman jerked his head at the sound, startled, and then paled at the sight of Julian's fury.
“She'll have the boat over, sir—” the shipman stammered, his voice cracking with nerves. He had a firm grip on Ester’s upperright arm, but she tore herself free before he could finish the thought.
Julian leaped onto the boat with a force that reverberated through the wooden planks. The young shipman gulped and hastened back to his seat by the oars. Harper was making his way down the steps, considerably slower and more carefully than his master. Helen smiled cautiously at Julian. The other passengers, of which there were four, grumbled but fell silent when Julian's fierce glare swept over them.
It was then that Julian saw that the remaining empty seats on the boat were directly opposite Ester and Helen. He sat, as did Ester, opposite him. Their knees brushed with the sway of the boat. Her eyes moved from his face to the gloves he wore. Her gaze lingered there, and the sadness in her expression cut through him like a knife.
His fists clenched atop his lap, leather creaking under the strain.
“Did you expect anything different?” he growled, meant for her ears alone. The storm raged around them, the rain hammering the wooden deck, pooling dangerously at their feet.
Over the noise of the torrent, it would have been difficult for anyone else to hear their conversation.
“You are still convinced then?” Ester murmured.
“Utterly,” he replied, though the word tasted bitter on his tongue. “It was foolish of me to believe otherwise. How is your father's condition?”
“Much the same. He and Mother have already boarded the ship,” she said, her tone lighter now. “Father was rather excited at the prospect and wished to board as soon as theSprinterwas at anchor.”
Ester offered a tentative smile and Julian responded with his own. At first, it was merely the twitch of a muscle—an instinct, nothing more. But then her eyes met his, and something flickered to life within him, a warmth he thought long buried. His smile deepened, softened, until he caught himself.
“I am glad,” he managed, his voice quieter, tender now. “And you?”
That was the question which was hardest of all to ask. The question that twisted his heart with dread.
“I am in perfect health,” Ester replied.
Relief immediately flooded him, though it was bittersweet and tinged with melancholy. Ester had not yet succumbed and he prayed she would not for a long time. Perhaps there was something in what Harper had said concerning those of pure heart lasting longest against the darkness of the curse.Lasting longestbut eventually succumbing.
For it was inevitable.
