“Will they make me sleep?” Thomas asked.
“Aye, they will. Ye will wake up in the Keep, safe and sound.”
“Then I don’t want them.”
Emma sighed, glancing up at Dominic for help.
“Don’t be difficult, ye wretch,” Dominic snapped.
Thomas shifted himself around, trying to reach for something in his pocket.
“I need to speak to ye, Emma, and I can’t do that without a clear head.” He paused, glancing up at the others. “I can’t do it with a damn audience, either.”
Dominic rolled his eyes. “Fine, message received. All right, everyone out. I’ll fetch those herbs. Ye can have ten minutes before I come back in to check on ye, aye?”
“Aye,” Thomas responded comfortably.
Everyone filed out, and the other injured man was taken out by his friends. Flora and Simon walked out side by side, and Flora paused at the door, glancing back at Emma. Their eyes met, and she smiled. A look of understanding passed between them.
Emma knew that was probably the last time she would see Flora. They would leave the McCade pub forever and melt away into the night.
I wish ye well, Flora.
Then, she turned her attention back to Thomas. He was wriggling again, trying to pull something out of his pocket.
“Just lie still, ye will make the bleeding worse,” she soothed, smoothing back his hair from his forehead.
Her chest clenched, and she was struck by a powerful desire to lean forward and kiss him, to pull him close to her and hold him tight, and never let go.
That would probably jostle his broken ribs, though, so it was probably not a good idea.
“I should apologize,” Thomas murmured. “After… after the party at the Sinner, I avoided ye. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Emma swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter, truly.”
“It does matter. It matters to me. I saw ye with a man on the hillside when ye were meant to be waiting for me in the carriage.”
Emma’s heart tightened. “Thomas, did ye think…”
He had the grace to blush. “Aye, I thought ye were meeting a fancy man. And then ye lied about it… I can’t stand liars. My father spent his whole life lying to me, and I couldn’t bear it.”
“I was lured there. It was—”
“McCade, aye. I know. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, and I shouldn’t have avoided ye.”
Emma sat back on her heels, surveying him. Thomas looked smaller than usual, slumped back against the wall. His injuries were bad but not fatal. If he could get to a good healer—and Emmawasa good healer, and then Delphine would take care of him back at the Keep—he would survive.
Relief swept through her so powerfully that it almost made her shake. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she felt as though she could sleep for a week.
“I’m not upset,” she said. “After all this, ye coming to rescue me and whatnot, I don’t think I could hold a grudge against ye if I tried.”
Thomas smiled at that. “After… after our time in the Sinner, I did think that perhaps ye liked me more than ye let on.”
Emma suppressed a smile. “What gave ye that idea?”
He shrugged, wincing at the pain when it pulled on his bad ribs. “Just a hunch, ye know?”
She swallowed hard, reaching forward to smooth back his hair again. If only she had a cool, damp cloth, or if she had her herbsand potions at her disposal. Emma took out one of the brass berries, rolling it between her palms to warm and soften it.
