Greydon winced slightly as he shared, “Matthew and I went to a tavern in the unsavory part of Town. We thought it would be an adventure.” He huffed, as if he could hardly believe his words. “But we were fools and got drunk. As we were leaving the tavern, a group of ruffians came out from an alleyway and demanded our coin purses. I refused, of course, and started fighting with the men.”
He continued. “The ruffians suddenly ran off and I thought we had won. When I turned back towards Matthew, he was on the ground with a knife sticking out of his side. I rushed to him but it was too late.”
Greydon’s eyes grew moist. “Had I just given the men my coin purse then Matthew would still be alive.”
Enid closed the distance between them and placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t know that. If you hadn’t fought back, you might have been killed as well.”
“I wish it was me that died that night,” Greydon admitted.
Hearing the sadness in Greydon’s voice was her undoing and she wrapped her arms around him. “You did nothing wrong,” she rushed to assure him. “You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That is why I became a Bow Street Runner,” Greydon shared as he embraced her. “I wasn’t strong enough then, but I am strong enough now.”
Enid looked up at him. “You are the strongest person that I know.”
“I disagree,” Greydon said. “Your strength surpasses my own.”
“I am not strong. I have far too many scars to remind me of my past.”
Greydon’s eyes crinkled around the edges. “Do not be ashamed of those scars. It is proof that you are stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.”
“I can say the same to you.”
His eyes dimmed. “You give me far too much credit.”
“I daresay that you are not giving yourself enough,” Enid said. “Matthew’s death was not your fault.”
“I want to believe you, but I have held on to this anger for so long.”
Enid nodded. “I understand that. Perhaps it is time we both let go of the anger that has come from our sordid pasts.”
“I am willing to try, if you are. But it is only because of your strength that I am able to do so.”
“Now it is you that is giving me too much credit.”
Greydon’s eyes held her transfixed as he said, “If only you knew how much these little moments with you matter to me. I am in half-agony, half-hope that you will understand how much you mean to me.”
The maid cleared her throat and Greydon went to drop his arms, but Enid stopped him. She didn’t want to let him go, not yet. In his arms, she felt safe, protected.
As she held Greydon’s gaze, Enid addressed the maid. “You are dismissed.”
“But, my lady…” the maid started to protest.
“Leave us,” she ordered.
The maid rose from her chair and walked swiftly from the room.
Enid grinned. “There are some advantages to being a widow,” she said.
Greydon returned her smile. “You do realize that your mother and possibly your father will be arriving soon.”
“Time is short, then. We must take advantage of our time together.”
His eyes dropped to her lips, but instead of kissing her like she had hoped, he released her and took a step back. “I should be going.”
Enid tried to hide her disappointment by saying, “So soon?” She wasn’t ready for him to leave. Not yet. His presence always seemed to lift her spirits and it was as if her soul craved to be near him.
“Yes, it would be for the best if I departed at once,” Greydon said, his words sounding entirely unconvincing.
