If I closed my eyes, then the image stitched to my lids would be—all of us. My imagination would add my sisters, each alive and well, my friends—Tramel and Enna, and our little boy, Noah, whose future was safe, today.
* * *
In the bedchamber adjacent to my studio, I lay on my husband’s chest. Two candles flickered on either side of the bed.
Not a stitch of cloth separated us, not even a toga.
I could see his face and chest and more.
No more hiding.
It was wonderful that both of us were open and free—or mostly free.
I had a final confession. I pushed up my fingers, skimming his muscles, running my hands along his ribs. “I must tell you the truth.”
His hot fingers worked their way into my loose hair. “No, no more words tonight.”
Taking the crisp linen sheet with me, I sat up. “I have to confess.”
“You don’t have to say more, Cilia.”
“I do, Felton. I tested you and that was wrong. I should’ve told you straightaway that Noah is Helena and Gladstone’s son. I helped bring him into the world and I thought my sister died from the birthing fever.”
“Well, you tend to get things wrong when it comes to fevers.” He kissed my knuckles.
Drawing my knees up, I clung to them. “I was never pregnant. Lady Ashbrook must’ve seen one of my disguises to keep men from bothering me in the marketplace.”
“You owe me no . . . no explanation.”
Clasping his shoulder, I traced his scars and prepared to bare mine. “The last time you were away, I thought I might be with child, but I was wrong. And I wasn’t unhappy.”
He sat up and began massaging my foot. “I told you, you didn’t have to say anything.”
Slipping back against the pillows, I nodded and enjoyed his firm hands. “I need to. For three weeks I was terrified. So frightened. Didn’t know if I could be a good mother. Or how I’d survive your household . . . the London house—”
Leaning over me, he kissed me, silencing my regrets, but this had to be said. I put my palm to his lips. “Felton, then I wasn’t with child, and I was relieved. I didn’t know if I was enough. Still don’t know, but Noah, he’s making me think I am. And I can be a mother to him and still have my art and us.”
Brushing a curl from my ear, his smile returned, then he burned brighter. “Well, I’m here now. I’ve done the baby duty in increments. You and I can be calm, think things through, plan each day as a family, and act as loving parents. We can do everything together, you and I, us. We are enough.”
“Wouldn’t be much us if you had been hung for killing Gladstone. It was Helena who shot him.”
“Well, your master spy survived. Our fiend is gone.”
“But what he’s done lives on. My sister’s a shell. She wants me, us, to raise Noah.”
Felton shifted and started thumbing the sole of my foot. “Since I was sent on a mission to dispatch Noah’s father, it seems only right.”
“F-e-l-l-l-l-l-ton.” I purred his name, my accent heavy when he tickled my arch.
His grin was wicked. “Gladstone had a price on his head. All those who do evil or take advantage of evil systems, they will get their due. Liverpool has been informed.”
“The Department of War and the Colonies? Will they take you away?”
“No. Especially since Tramel has had his strength return.”
My eyes felt like they’d pop, but he tucked me into his arms, holding me like he thought I’d run. There was no running from my confusion or how I now saw things clearly.
“The man is full of surprises, my lord.”
