Page 114 of The Siren of Sussex

“Did I persuade her to leave London, do you mean?” Evelyn sighed. “She wants to leave. But you must have seen her condition.”

Ahmad had seen it. He’d not been surprised. To be sure, it was probably the least surprising aspect of this episode.

But he made no judgment. He only listened as Evelyn described her sister’s dilemma.

He could muster little sympathy. Not when the whole situation could be resolved through the expedience of a quick marriage and steady employment.

“I wonder if I was right to bring you here,” he said when Evelyn finished.

“Why would you say so?”

“Because it seems this visit has failed to set your mind at ease.”

Indeed, she was wearing the same expression of worry she had when they’d entered the tavern. Worse still, she looked absorbed by her troubles to the point of distraction. As if, in the aftermath of seeing her sister, even more burdens had been laid at her door.

“It’s not you,” Evelyn said. “I appreciate your help, and I’m very grateful for your—” She broke off.

He wondered what she might have said if she’d continued. Your kindness? Your friendship? “What is it, then?” he asked.

“My own weakness of mind. I can’t help but fixate on the unfairness of it all. If Anthony abandons Fenny and returns with his brother to Sussex, he’ll be permitted to resume his life as if nothing had ever happened. He’ll face no consequences at all for what he’s done. Men never do. It’s the ladies who must bear the burden, not only for their own misconduct but for the misconduct of gentlemen, too.”

“You blame him.”

“I blame them both. I blame the world we live in—a world that makes it impossible for a lady and a gentleman to marry where they will.” Her voice thickened. “And I blame myself.”

He frowned. “What had you to do with it?”

“These past years, I’ve been accustomed to think of Fenny as selfish. She was meant to marry to benefit us all. It was her duty, I thought. I gave no consideration to what she might have wanted. Whom she might have loved. It wasn’t until I came to London that I began to understand the depth of her feelings for Anthony. I’d never felt them for myself, you see.”

Ahmad’s heart thumped hard. “And now you have?”

Once again, her gaze met his in the carriage light. “I believe so. An approximation of them, anyway.”

He thought he knew what she meant. All the same, he was reluctant to give voice to it. “Because of this thing between us.”

“Yes.”

He searched her eyes. What he found there fairly stole his breath. “Evelyn . . .”

“You asked me if I saw something in the crystal ball, that night at Lady Arundell’s. But you didn’t ask me what.”

“You said it was someone you knew.”

“And you said,” she reminded him, “that the images in the surface of the crystal are projections of a person’s own mind. Of the thing they most desire. The thing they want most in all the world.”

He shook his head. “Evie . . . don’t say it.”

“It was you I saw in the crystal,” she whispered. “Your face. Because you’re the one I’m meant to be with.”

Twenty-Three

Evelyn waited for him to reply, her heart in her hand. She hadn’t planned to say anything to him. Not here. But after everything that had happened this evening, she couldn’t manage to keep her feelings to herself. Not when they were alone together like this, side by side in the darkened brougham, her skirts spilling over his legs.

Tension crackled between them. It was a palpable presence. Even more so after she’d tended his wound, and he’d covered her hand with his.

He held her gaze. “You’re mistaken. I’m not the man for you.”

She looked steadily back at him. Her pulse was racing. She felt much as she did when she was galloping on Hephaestus. A thrilling sense of fear and excitement. The knowledge that she was risking life and limb.