He shrugged. He didn’t want her nighttime visits to end. Instead of answering, he changed the subject. “You used to stand right here and watch the waves when we visited as apprentices,” he commented.
She looked indifferent. “Did I?”
“Yes. You asked me to meet you in this very spot in the middle of the night. Have you forgotten?”
Her expression fixed itself. She was careful not to look at him.
Theo leaned on the guardrail and looked down into the wash. “Mrs. Trunk kept us in separate rooms and wouldn’t let us so much as speak after nightfall. We had to be clever. You left a message in my pocket.”
The column of her throat worked to swallow the memory. She kept her eyes on the view. “I don’t recall.”
“Really?” he asked casually. “You kissed me like crazy. Practically ravaged me.”
“Stop it, Theo,” she said emotionlessly, though heat flooded her cheeks. She turned and walked several paces down the lane.
But Theo was right behind her, close enough to murmur, “You haven’t thought of it since? I myself revisit it frequently.”
“Then I pity you,” she hissed, turning on the spot. “If the only happy thing you can dredge from your memory was some kiss when you were eighteen.”
“As I recall, we didn’t stop at just a kiss.” And he wasn’t lying. Just thinking of it stirred Theo, enough that he could ignore the voice that told him to stop pushing her.
“Fuck’ssake,” she murmured, like a miner would. It didn’t sound right in her voice, from her lips. “What are you doing?” she asked him then, coming much closer than Theo was prepared for. He was hit with a sudden rush of her. “What is this? Some sorry flirtation?”
He tried not to blink, as though doing so might result in a loss somehow. “Perhaps,” he said. “That depends on whether it’s working.”
She seemed close to either laughter or tears. She cinched her eyes closedand opened them again. “This…thingyou imagine still exists between us, Theo. It isn’t real.”
Theo shook his head. “It’s real to me, Nina.”
“Theo—”
“Please, just let me say this and then I’ll say no more.” Here was that cliff he was barreling toward, the fall inevitable. “I know your feelings for me can never go back to the way they were. I’m not so arrogant that I can’t see that. But I prayed every night that you would be brought back to me, and I promised all sorts of desperate things to God and to the House to have those prayers answered. And then suddenly, you were there in Kenton Hill, and I felt as though every good thing I’d ever done counted for something. As though God had gifted me you.” Theo heaved, his breath expanding in his chest. “Surely onlyloveis worthy of that sort of miracle?”
“You’re insane,” Nina said, eyes widening.
He felt suddenly unmoored, like every thought he’d ever had was horribly singular. “I know.” He swallowed. “But I can think of no better reason for a man to lose his mind.”
He watched a dozen different emotions skitter across her face. Some he latched on to—sorrow, remorse, familiarity. They were better than the pity, the frustration. In the end, any reaction melted away and left her blank. Her lips thinned and the gold flecks in her eyes blinked out of existence, and she exhaled as though she were trying to expel him.
Over the cliff edge he went.
“Is that the last of it?” she asked.
“No, not nearly.”
“Then journal the rest,” she said. “And bury it.” She closed her eyes. “If Polly finishes the translations quickly, we may be on our way to Hoaklin as early as tomorrow evening.”
Theo felt the concussion of what she’d say before it hit.
“You shouldn’t come with us, Theo,” she said. “There’s no sense in it.”
He rocked backward on his heels, felt something cold and viciouslysharp stab at his windpipe. But he looked out to the ocean as she did and pretended he wasn’t falling. “I want to come anyway.”
“You don’t believe in this, Theo,” she said bluntly. “And it’s dangerous. You were almost killed. If you were to die in this undertaking, it would be—”
“I have my own undertakings,” he said thickly.
Nina closed her eyes. “Me.”
