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“Not true, dear friend. You had the joy of being poisoned. Not many people can live to tell the tale.”
“We both know you’re the hero.” He grinned. “It actually makes my dark heart race, seeing you take on the world.”
“Are you suggesting you’re impressed?”
“Let’s see, Wadsworth.” Thomas ticked off points on his fingers. “You’ve carved open dozens of bodies from London to Romania to America, been held at gunpoint beneath a castle once owned by Vlad the Impaler, got stabbed while defeating a deranged carnival, and have just captured the White City Devil. All before turning eighteen. I’m downright woozy with want. I beg you to ravish me now before I lose my mind.”
“I love you, Thomas Cresswell.” I kissed him gently. “With my whole heart.”
“Beyond life. Beyond death”—he nuzzled my neck, whispering—“my love for thee is eternal.”
“I adore when you say that.” I smiled against his lips. “Tell me, though. How long have you been practicing it for this moment?”
He nipped at my neck, eyes brimming with mirth. “Not nearly half as long as I’ve been plotting our next adventure, you delightfully cruel thing.”
“Oh?” I raised my brows. “Where shall we adventure to next?”
“Hmmm. There’s the issue of Miss Whitehall we still need to contend with.” He traced the line of my jaw, his expression suddenly serious. “However, I believe that trouble is behind us.”
I tightened my grip on him, feeling the first buds of true hope sprout. “Don’t toy with my emotions, Cresswell! Why do you think it’s over?”
“My father sent an extremely agitated telegram yesterday. Apparently he’d been at the palace, convinced he’d be getting the queen’s blessing for my nuptials with Miss Whitehall, when she wished you and me the best of happiness in our marriage. In front of a roomful of people, no less. So many witnesses. My father could hardly argue.”
My heart near ceased. “The queen did that? How?”
Thomas grinned. “Her telegram requested an audience with my father immediately upon his return to England. It simply said it was regarding the betrothal. He assumed she’d been speaking of Miss Whitehall since she’s the daughter of a marquess. Imagine his surprise when she announced our names in front of court.” He sighed dreamily. “I would’ve paid a large sum to witness the look on his face. He can’t go against the queen. Your grandmother is my new favorite person.”
Excitement turned to worry. “But your inheritance and title…”
Now his grin was that of a cat who’d swallowed a tasty bird whole. “In light of obtaining the queen’s favor, my father has removed all threats from both me and Daciana. He’s even offered me one of our country estates, Blackstone Manor, as a showing of goodwill.”
I stared at him a moment, trying to absorb everything. “How did you manage to solve these issues? I’ve only been gone—”
“For four horrendous days. If the poison wasn’t about to kill me, I swear the thought of losing you was.” He shuddered, then swept me into his arms. “Perhaps we should think of taking a holiday. No murders. No angry families. Just the two of us. And Sir Isaac.”
“Mmm.” I smiled against his lips. “I rather fancy that idea.”
“Where would you like to go next, Miss Wadsworth?”
He placed me back on the ground. The sun gilded the tops of the buildings as it crawled behind them. In the distance I saw the gleaming White City, its magic glittering without darkness at last. If I could go anywhere on earth, there was truly only one place I longed to be in this moment. Somewhere Thomas and I could be alone. Fighting another grin, I turned to him.
“I believe you mentioned something about a country estate. If I recall correctly, you made it sound as if we might send the staff away. Where—”
Thomas swung me into his arms once again before I could finish my sentence. “I was hoping you’d say that, because I cleverly purchased two passages before we left New York. I’d been watching the way you stared at your ring. That determined set to your jaw. You know, that stubborn bit of chin lifting that indicates you’re about to wage war?” Completely unaware of my eye roll, he continued on. “If we hurry, we can make our ship by week’s end.”
“Where, exactly, is the country estate?” I asked, looping my arms around his neck. “England? Romania?”
“That, my dear Wadsworth, is a surprise.”
He’d promised me a lifetime full of them, and it seemed Mr. Thomas Cresswell—the crown fiend and love of my life—delivered on his promises. We’d finally emerged from the darkness that had stalked us all these months. Night no longer held dominion over our souls.
I tipped my head back, closing my eyes against the last rays of the sun, excited for wherever we were headed to next. Like the stars shining madly above, the number of our future adventures was infinite. I had no idea what tomorrow had in store for us, but I knew one thing with utter certainty: no matter what new chapter awaited, Thomas and I would turn that page together.
H. H. Holmes, circa 1880s/Early 1890s
EPILOGUE
CRIME OF THE CENTURY
