“Come with me,” he said briskly.
Hawkes took her hand and stepped out into the street, and she followed him without question. He hailed a hack promptly.
“Drive around Hyde Park until I tell you to do otherwise.” He spilled coins into the driver’s hand.
He helped Aurelie up into the carriage, closed the door, and locked it.
“All right, then,” he said briskly at once. “If you’ll pardon the intrusive personal question, Mrs. Gallagher—what the bloody hell are you doing here? Alone? With that man?”
She was silent for a moment. And then she swallowed.
“He sent a message to The Grand Palace on the Thames saying he was Mr. Monroe, and that he was sorry he missed me and I...” She paused.
He waited. Hawkes’s heart literally felt raw and bruised by her obvious misery.
“I just... wanted so much to believe that he was.” Her voice was thick.
He said nothing, because he couldn’t. He’d gone airless from the need to take her unhappiness away.
“I suspect you have begun to think I am rash and foolish, Mr. Hawkes,” she said into the silence. “An... an adventuress.”
The word sounded quaint and so very specific and it made him smile, despite himself.
“One rarely has call to use that word. Thank you for reminding me of its existence.”
“It is the right one in this circumstance, no?”
“Well...” He sighed heavily. “Here is the thing, Mrs. Gallagher. Rash implies you’ve been impulsive, and I think you’ve been very deliberate about doing things that, coincidentally, put you in harm’s way. And you’re clearly not a fool, so I’m a little puzzled by your choices. I would be honored if you’d care to confide in me. Because if something harms you—”
He stopped abruptly.
He looked away again, out the window toward the rapidly darkening street. He didn’t want to frighten an already frightened woman. And the truth of what he was about to say unnerved even him. But he wanted very much to give her only that. And so he said it.
“I have borne a lot in my day,” he said quietly. “But I don’t think I could bear that.”
He slowly turned to face her.
Aurelie’s breath left her in a swift little gust. She searched his face, eyes wide, lips parted.
He met her eyes evenly. As though he’d merely uttered an inalienable truth. And yet there was the faintest hint of rueful amazement in his voice. As if this condition was entirely new to him. As if somehow the sight of her could explain it to him.
With reluctance, she turned away again. Her heart was racing.
She wanted to savor the aftermath of those words. The thrill and terror of them.
For a time they were quiet together.
“I am puzzled, too, Mr. Hawkes, that you happen to be in the places where I make those choices,” she said quietly.
“And by ‘puzzled’ you mean ‘lucky.’ You are lucky that I happen to be in those places where you make those choices.”
“It is indeed fortuitous. I am not certain it is a coincidence, however.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Coincidences abound in life,” he said comfortably.
“Do they? Of course. I have forgotten. You are so wise in the ways of the world. How fortunate I am to benefit from your superior wisdom.”
