“All the way to London. I walked twenty miles in two days. On the edge of the main thoroughfare. No one came looking. By the time I reached Islington, I could barely crawl. I collapsed not far from Baron Vanderbean’s new home, though I didn’t know it at the time. He was driving past and stopped his coach and asked me if I needed a place to spend the night.”
“So you climbed into his carriage?”
“I thought it over. He was a stranger, but even at ten years old, I had been bouncing from stranger to stranger for years. I wasn’t afraid of new faces. Or corporal punishment. I had run away once, and knew I could do it again. But one thing convinced me above all others.”
“The fact that this particular adult had bothered to ask a child what she wanted?”
“That he wasn’t alone,” she said softly. “There were five other children in that coach. Happy ones, with smiling faces. Waiting patiently, maybe even a little anxiously, to see if I would be willing to join them. Not judging me as lacking. The opposite. Fearful of being rejected themselves. So, yes. I got in. They helped me up that day, and every day after. We help each other up, just by being there. By letting each other have their power.”
“I do think you’re powerful.”
“It didn’t feel like it yesterday.”
“That was a poor reflection of me, not of you.” He sighed. “Youaccused me of treating you like a tinker with a faulty machine, rather than as one friend to another. Maybe you’re right. But it was not because I thought you weak or useless. In my machines, every element is important. No matter how small or stiff or silly or abrasive. Every bit is an integral, irreplaceable part of the whole. So is everything about you.”
“You’re saying you still think of me as a broken machine?”
“No! I’m saying the sharp, prickly thorns of a rose don’t outweigh the soft, delicate petals. They both make up one thing of beauty. You are the most gorgeous, fascinating, perfect equation I’ve ever had the fortune to try and decipher. You need all your pieces and variables in order to add up to Elizabeth.”
“I can see the charm of Beth the Berserker’s thorns. But what about the days when…” She held up her cane.
He took her free hand in both of his. “Elizabeth, I don’t like you inspiteof any given characteristic. I like all of you because it’s who you are.”
She cocked her head and held her silence.
“I more than like you,” he said in a rush. “I am an utter fool for you. I like you so much that it shuts down my logic and makes me react with emotion, which is not a thing I believed myself capable of, until you battle-axed your way inside the castle.”
She made a self-deprecating smile. “I’d do it again.”
His expression was earnest. “For you, my door is always open.”
She bit her lip. “I apologize, too. When it comes to how others view my disability, I’ve learned to fear the worst. I lash out when I’m angry or scared or in pain. Or embarrassed. And yesterday I was all those things at once. I accused you of overreacting, but the truth is, so did I. You’re right that I cannot expect you to guess what I’m thinking. I purposefully did not communicate the full truth, and then blamed you for not reacting appropriately.”
“We can both communicate better.” His eyes beseeched hers. “I want to prove to you that I can be a safe place, that I respect you more than any other person I know. And then, I willaskyou where, if anywhere, you’d like to go from there. Please let me spend the days we have left showing you how it could be, going forward.”
“I am not much of a prize,” she warned him.
“Because of your disability? I told you—”
“No, not that. I’m not a prize because I’m a prickly, off-putting berserker. You now know that my base personality is to attack first with claws, teeth, and swords, and apologize for the carnage later.”
“I’m not afraid of your sharp edges. As it happens, I appear to have a fondness for prickly, off-putting berserkers,” he assured her. “One in particular, anyway. You’re not the only one willing to battle for what you want.”
“All right, then.” She took a deep breath. “I know I’m not easy to get close to. But if you really want to fight this war, then go ahead. Try your best to win.”
26
Elizabeth was up to seventy percent the next day—a high percentage indeed. This was a very good day—but whenever she crossed paths with Stephen, she could not help butfeellike a zero all over again.
He insisted he thought no less of her, but how could she be certain it was true? Elizabeth was here to guard the castle and she couldn’t even defend her own bedchamber from invasion. How could anyone believe in her ability to save the day, if she couldn’t even help herself?
For his part, Stephen had now taken it upon himself to forgo words entirely, and tempt her back into his arms using the most devious weapons in his arsenal: his abdominal muscles.
Every time Elizabeth turned a corner, Stephen was there. Inexplicably shirtless.
He wore a waistcoat as some sort of inane nod to modesty… or perhaps because he suspected the peekaboo glimpses of muscled chest and abdomen between the unbuttoned flaps of his waistcoat would drive her absolutely mad with the desire to rip the flimsy sapphire silk from his half-naked body and feast her eyes on the toned panorama beneath. His theory wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Stephen caught her looking again and smiled.
