Maisie’s eyes lifted to his. “I used to whisper your name into my pillow at night.”
He closed his eyes. The image—her, far away, whispering his name into darkness—nearly broke him. “Maisie, I feared you were dead.”
“I could have been if the Marquess hadn’t saved us from theBurschenschaftmob,” she said. “But Deena and I got out. Papa… he didn’t.”
Felix reached for her hand. She let him take it. “I wish I had been there for you,” he murmured.
“You were doing as he asked, weren’t you? You went to India for your profession, for the skills you promised to build. And I—” her voice caught and steadied again. “I did what I had to do. For Deena. For the boy.”
“And I came back for you, but you weren’t anywhere to be found.” He searched her face. “What about the little Marquess now?”
She nodded, slowly. “He has no one else. No mother, no real relatives. If anyone cast doubt on my guardianship of his estate… he could lose everything. His fortune. His future.”
Felix’s jaw tightened. “You carried all that alone?”
“I had no choice. If anyone discovered the truth about me—about who I really am—it would be dangerous for all of us. A Jewish,unmarried woman raising a marquess? They’d call me a deceiver. They’d say I’d stolen an inheritance. They could take him away in a heartbeat.”
He was quiet for a beat, then said, “But you’re not alone anymore.”
Maisie blinked against fresh tears. “I’ve tried to be strong, but I’m so tired, Faivish. There’s always the fear someone will come and take it all away.”
“Then let them come,” he said. His voice steadied, like an oath. “I’ll be standing beside you when they do.”
She laughed—low, incredulous—and then kissed him.
No hesitation.
She leaned into him with all the trust and need she’d hoarded for years, and her mouth found his like it had always known the way. He kissed her back, steady and sure, his hands rising to cradle her face.
When she pulled away, her voice was barely a whisper. “Tell me we’re not dreaming.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “If we are, I don’t want to wake.”
She smiled—and it was the most fragile, radiant thing he had ever seen.
“Will you come with me?” he asked suddenly.
Her brow creased. “Where?”
“Anywhere. Back to the practice. To the coast. To the end of the world if need be.”
Her breath tangled somewhere between heart and mouth. “I can’t leave Deena and the boy.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
She held his gaze. “You’d take us all?”
“I’ve never wanted less than everything with you. If that means everyone,” he shrugged, “why not?”
The carriage slowed. The world waited outside. But neither ofthem moved.
And when he kissed her again, it wasn’t desperation.
It was certain.
The wheels groaned, the carriage moved forward, and to her astonishment, Maisie wasn’t running. She was exactly where she belonged—in Faivish’s arms, with the entire world waiting outside.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
