Aaron took a breath that felt like his first in weeks, tasting air that didn’t reek of brandy and self-pity. Somewhere across London, Louise was living half a life because he’d been too afraid to offer her a whole one.
That ended now.
Or at least, it would end as soon as he figured out how to win back a woman he’d pushed away with both hands.
The thought terrified him more than becoming his father ever had.
Good.
Terror meant he was finally risking something worth losing.
CHAPTER 39
“Louise! Come quickly! Something wonderful is happening in the parlor!”
Emily’s voice carried up the narrow stairs with an excitement Louise hadn’t heard in weeks. She set down her mending, the torn hem forgotten as her sister’s footsteps thundered overhead with complete abandonment of proper behavior.
“Emily, whatever is the matter?” Louise rose from the threadbare chair, her back protesting after hours hunched over needlework.
Emily burst into the room, her cheeks flushed pink with exertion and something else. Joy, Louise realized with a start. Pure, uncomplicated joy that had been absent since they’d left Calborough House.
“You have to come now!” Emily grabbed Louise’s hand, tugging with surprising strength. “Before it’s too late!”
“Before what’s too late? Emily, you’re not making sense.”
But Emily was already dragging her toward the stairs, practically vibrating with barely contained delight. “Just come! Please, Louise! It’s important!”
Louise allowed herself to be pulled along, concern mixing with curiosity. The house had been quiet all morning, George buried in his ledgers, and Mrs. Fielding at market. She’d heard nothing unusual, no visitors announced, yet Emily acted as if Christmas had arrived six weeks early.
They reached the parlor door, and Emily paused, her small hand on the handle. She looked up at Louise with eyes bright as stars. “Promise you won’t run away?”
“Run away from what? Emily, you’re frightening me.”
“Promise!” Emily’s grip tightened on the door handle.
“I promise.” The words emerged before Louise could consider what she might be agreeing to.
Emily threw open the door and pulled Louise inside.
Louise stopped dead, her heart forgetting how to beat.
The shabby parlor had been transformed into a miniature theater. Their few pieces of furniture pushed against walls tocreate space. Sheets draped from the ceiling formed makeshift curtains. Candles blazed everywhere, turning the dingy room golden.
And in the center of it all stood Aaron.
He wore what appeared to be a cape fashioned from burgundy velvet, and a paper crown sitting askew on his dark hair. Beside him, Buttercup sported his old doublet from the Romeo performance, though someone had added a magnificent paper ruff that the dog was already attempting to eat.
George stood near the window, his expression suggesting he’d been ambushed into attendance. Lady Merrow presided from the best chair, wearing the theatrical turban from weeks ago, her eyes suspiciously bright.
“Excellent timing!” Lady Merrow rose with regal authority. “George, we should check on … that thing. In the kitchen. Immediately.”
George blinked in confusion. “What thing?”
Lady Merrow grabbed his arm with surprising force. “The urgent thing that requires our immediate attention. Come along.”
She practically dragged him from the room, though not before Louise caught the smile tugging at his lips. The door closed with decisive finality.
Emily guided Louise to a chair positioned front and center, pressing on her shoulders until she sat. “You have to watch the entire performance. It’s very important.”
