Mrs Moss had insisted on hailing a carriage, and crushing the seven of them inside it – Oliver sandwiched rather firmly between her father and Mrs Moss, Jem scrunched against the window, and Mr Jane sharing a seat rather happily with Damien and Ava – as they trotted from rattling cobblestones towards the muddied dock-bound roads.
‘There is something I wanted to talk to you about,’ Damien said, leaning as close to Ava’s ear as he could get – though even that movement caused her father’s eyes to narrow.
‘I’m sure whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of all of us.’
Mrs Moss rolled her eyes. ‘Ignore him, dear,’ she said firmly. ‘Arthur might believe he wishes to be privy to these sorts of conversations, but I promise you – Arthur—’ She turned and gave him a rather pointed look. ‘You do not.’
‘Tell me,’ said Ava, giving Damien’s hand a quick squeeze before folding her own hands neatly upon her lap. ‘How do you know Mr Jane so well?’
Mr Jane grinned a little, and he turned to stare out of the window. ‘I’ll let you tell the story.’
She saw Damien hesitate then, saw his mouth drop open. ‘Well,’ he said, leaning forwards a little. ‘We met after our first session. Although I didn’t realize how … intimately acquainted Mr Jane was with your family until much, much later.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr Jane, turning his dark gaze back into the cab. ‘Most enlightening, those conversations of ours.’
‘“Conversations”?’ Ava turned, trying to catch Damien’s eye – although he looked suddenlyveryinterested in his own hands. ‘They weren’t about me, were they?’
‘Do you think all men do is talk aboutwomen?’ Damien asked, though now she saw he wouldn’t meet her eye, and that his face was reddening a little.
‘Here we are,’ said Oliver, lunging for the door handle almost before the carriage had come to a complete stop. ‘And not a moment too soon.’
Ava let her family file through the door of the teashop first, listening to Mrs Moss’ loud exclamations about the chill in the air,Oliver’s demands for something stronger than tea, and her father’s soft grunts in return. Even Jem seemed to be in good spirits – but before she could move to join them, Damien’s fingers curled around her wrist.
‘Ava, wait.’
She turned back to him, his face blue in the gathering twilight, the gas lamps from inside casting his spectacles not silver, but gold. There was an intensity there, a pull in his dark eyes that made her reach for the handle, and close the door behind her, pushing them both into the moonlight shining upon that red-brick step.
‘There really is something I wish to ask you.’ His voice had grown a little taut, and now when he looked down at his hands she could see they were shaking. What had made him so nervous?
‘And you don’t have to say yes, of course – I want you to think about it. Think about what I’m asking. Because I don’t think it’ll be easy, and I don’t think it’ll be altogether pleasant—’
An image swam forwards in her mind – of Jem, in her father’s kitchen. Of the way his voice, too, had taken on a trembling edge before he’d asked her that one, enormous question.
And perhaps, some weeks ago, that thought might’ve scared her.
But Damien wasn’t Jem.
‘Ask me,’ she said.
Damien swallowed audibly. ‘Will you … Ava, will you come to London with me? To meet my father? He wants to meet with me. He wants to see me – to mend this rift between us – and ItoldMr Briggs I would consider it. But … I do not think I could face it without you.’
She studied his drawn expression, the anxious twitch of his lip. ‘Yes,’ she said, her smile growing until it felt her face could not contain it any longer. ‘Yes, of course I will.’
His eyebrows knotted for the briefest of moments. ‘I suppose there is something else I should tell you, before you agree.’
‘I’ve already agreed,’ Ava said, reaching and clasping his hand in hers. ‘Nothing you could say would make me change my mind.’
‘That’s a relief,’ Damien said. ‘So then I suppose you shan’t mind I never mentioned my father was titled?’
The door opened behind her then, and golden light spilled onto the step as Mr Jane’s voice sounded from behind her shoulder.
‘Come now, you two. The tea will get cold,’ he chided. ‘And it’sfreezingout here.’
‘Just a moment,’ said Ava. ‘I think Damien has some explaining to do.’
‘Well, let him explain it in here!’ Arthur called. ‘You’re letting all the warm air out!’
Ava looked at Damien, at the smile sparking across his face like lightning. ‘You said nothing I could say would make you change your mind,’ he said, ushering her into the warmth of the teashop.
