She dropped a locket on a chain into his palm.
“Thank you.” Stephen stared at the gold locket in his hand. The craftsmanship was excellent. It reminded him of a locket he had once seen in a royal portrait, gracing the neck of—
Marjorie kicked his toe. “Open it.”
Stephen released the clasp. His heart skipped. Inside the locket was a miniature of Elizabeth. It was a portrait from only the bodice up, yet managed to convey all of her fierceness and fire.
“Thank you,” he said again, this time his voice thick with emotion. Stephen hadn’t believed himself the syrupy sort of romantic to wear a lover’s likeness, but he knew already he would wear this one for the rest of his life.
“Adrian made the locket, and I did the portrait. I was inspired by the way you look at my sister. I want you to always be able to gaze at her, whenever you’d like.”
Stephen tried to swallow. Or to smile. Or do anything besides stare unblinkingly in all his syrupy romantic gooeyness at the beautiful miniature of the woman he loved.
This was the perfect gift and the worst gift all in one. The most bittersweet of souvenirs. After all, he would not need to gaze upon a portrait in a locket if there was any hope of keeping the actual woman in his life.
He pressed the locket to his chest. He and Elizabeth were still in the castle. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to trap his bloodthirsty princess in a turret and lock himself in with her.
Marjorie stepped forward. “I’ll clasp it around your neck.”
“You can’t reach his neck,” Adrian said dryly. “I’ll do it.”
Stephen relinquished his gift only long enough for the chain to be secured, then tucked the locket beneath his shirt next to his skin. The gold was warm, as though it was the kiss of Elizabeth’s fingertips touching his heart, and not a heart-shaped piece of metal.
“I’ll cherish it,” he promised Marjorie and Adrian. “Thank you.”
And yet the true gift was not the locket, but rather a hard truth put so clearly into focus: Stephen didn’twantElizabeth to be reduced to a memory. He wanted the real woman.
Now and forevermore.
37
Elizabeth did a second round of stretches after breaking her fast. Getting out of bed had required additional time this morning. Sometimes when she rushed, her body seized up to punish her. After verifying she had no current pain, she took extra care to ensure she began the day as limber and strong as possible.
The others were packed into a side parlor, crowding to look out of a trio of arrow-slit windows.
Stephen made room for her at once and took her hand in his. Or tried to. She had to pass her sword stick to the opposite hand first, in order to twine her fingers with his.
And then she looked out the window.
Reddington’s army was still there. They’d camped out front all night. A proliferation of tents lined the edge of the forest. Soldiers milled about in army regimentals, cleaning weapons or eating hunks of bread.
Adrian shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s convinced this many people to live as though they were a real squadron.”
“Or to believe Reddington a real general,” added Kuni.
“His Grace, the emperor of entitlement,” Jacob muttered.
“They know who and what he is,” said Philippa. “It doesn’t matter. Proximity to a viscount’s son can be life-changing for those in the outer edges of the beau monde. Being an officer in Reddington’s armygives cachet to those who couldn’t afford to purchase rank in the real military.”
“Besides, camping out is what those who reenact battles do,” Elizabeth reminded them. She did not mention she’d once wished to be one of them. She’d believed joining their number would be visible proof that she was just as good as any man. That you didn’t have to be one hundred percent able-bodied to have just as much value as anyone else.
“That’s true,” said Tommy. “It’s clear weather, so to them it’s all in good fun. A nice, wholesome activity for the whole family.”
Adrian watched the men below. “They may have signed up for a lark, but are they truly prepared to wage actual battle?”
“They’re loading a real cannon,” Marjorie pointed out.
“And they’ve pulled it much closer than where it stood in yesterday’s trial,” Tommy said. “If they fire from this distance, the castle will take a direct hit.”
