Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
The humid breeze licked Emmy’s cheeks as she stood on Mistfield’s cliffs with Jack, Caleb, Jimmy, and a bottle of champagne.
When Jack had suggested they celebrate Clara’s downfall, Emmy had pictured a quick toast while the staff was asleep, but of
course, Jack had more grandiose plans.
Jimmy held out the bottle to Jack. “Liquid courage?”
“No need.” With a wary breath, Jack stared at the black river, nearly imperceptible in the dark. “This is not how I die.”
“Don’t you dare,” Caleb warned. “Tonight was a win. Let’s not ruin it with your funeral.”
“But I said I’d celebrate our first victory by jumping.” He shot Emmy a devilish grin. “I’m a man of my word.”
Emmy shrugged, not giving him the satisfaction of riling her. “He won’t jump.” Only a fool would leap into the rocky Hudson
in the middle of the night, and Jack was no fool.
“You think you know me that well?”
“First of all, you wouldn’t ruin your favorite vest. And second, you’re not stu— No!”
In three quick strides, Jack sprinted off the edge of the cliff.
For a fleeting moment, the moonlight limned him in ghastly silver—shirttails fluttering, legs kicking, arms outstretched like
flightless wings—before gravity plucked him from the night.
Emmy rushed toward the edge, searching for his crushed skull or lifeless body limp in the waves. But there was no sign of
either.
Cursing under his breath, Caleb lunged toward the footpath. Emmy hurried after him, but Jimmy let out a wild hoot, one loud enough to wake the sleeping staff.
There, bobbing in the pitch-black waters, was the most reckless cad she’d ever known.
“Come on in!” Jack shouted from far below. “The water’s warm!”
With her lungs robbed of air, Emmy couldn’t properly berate him.
“I’m going to drown him myself,” Caleb muttered, his hands pressed to his chest.
For once, they were in agreement.
Jimmy thrust the champagne into Caleb’s hands. “See you at the bottom.”
“Jimmy Li,” Caleb warned, “I swear to—”
Jimmy’s yelp cut through the night as he catapulted himself over the edge, disappearing for several agonizing seconds. He
resurfaced with a giddy scream that would have made Emmy laugh, had she not been frozen.
Caleb took a swig of the bottle before offering it to Emmy. “We’re walking, right?”
“Absolutely.” With a shuddering breath, she followed him between the trees.
The heat of the day clung to the darkness, curling Emmy’s baby hairs. But she did not mind the humidity, or the mosquitos
swarming the narrow path, or even the spiderwebs. The night was alive, more alive than anything she’d been able to picture
back at Grimsbane.
Grimsbane Tower. Hard to believe it was Clara Claremont’s new residence.
The path ended along the riverbank, where a large, flat boulder jutted into the river. Caleb began unbuttoning his vest, tossing
it atop Jack’s and Jimmy’s drenched shirts. “The water’s deep as long as you stay away from the shore. Rose loved to swim,”
he added, seeing her surprise. “Especially on nights like these, when it’s too bloody hot to sleep.”
His smile wilted, and Emmy’s heart grew heavy, too. They had a world of their own, Jack had said, with little room for anyone else.
To Jack’s and Jimmy’s delight, Caleb joined them for a night swim. Emmy, meanwhile, settled on a dry patch of smooth rock.
Surreal, to sit on a private beach, at a home large enough to swallow a city block, with three half-naked boys guzzling champagne
in the river. Before tonight, she’d never even tasted champagne.
Grace would have loved such a night.
Why was she thinking of Grace? With another swig, she replaced the bitter taste in her mouth with sweet bubbles.
“So Clara Claremont was taken down by a girl from Five Points.” Jimmy motioned for the champagne, and Emmy obliged. “How does
it feel, Ems?”
Emmy tried to imagine Clara huddled in Grimsbane, still in her frilly gown. It ought to have made her giddy, but nothing about
Grimsbane could bring her joy. “It was a team effort.”
Jack grinned. “So you’re finally admitting we’re a team.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Oh, come on. You must trust us a little by now.”
“Do you trust me?” She knew he didn’t, not when he still kept plenty of secrets.
“I trust my gut. And my gut says you’re all on my side.” He winked. “Even you.”
“I trust you, too, Fontaine.” Jimmy tousled Jack’s wet hair. “In fact, I trust all of you.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “You trust everyone.”
“Innocent until proven guilty.”
“An excellent rule for a jury, but less so for the company you keep.” Caleb grabbed the champagne from him. “Trust needs to
be earned.”
“Have I earned your trust? Or am I still a ‘charmless bastard’?”
“Ah, well, the truth hurts.”
Jimmy splashed Caleb, who indignantly splashed him back.
Soon the two of them were in a full-blown water fight, one that nearly drowned the poor champagne bottle.
Emmy managed to pluck it out of the river as they splashed away, racing toward the middle while fervently declaring they were not, in fact, racing.
As she watched them over the champagne bottle’s rim, Emmy smiled faintly. There was a lightness to their mood that she envied.
But letting go like that, celebrating so freely—it was as if they were speaking a language lost to her. She could not trust
tonight’s good fortune to last. Two years ago, her greatest victory had ended in her swift demise—and she hadn’t seen it coming.
Tilting her head toward the stars, Emmy studied the bluffs lining both sides of the river. It’d be so easy for someone to
spy on them. Like Grace, with whatever invisibility she had left from Mary. Or the Society guards, coming to drag them back
to Grimsbane.
Jack waded toward her. “Nice touch, fainting in Stratton’s arms. He loves to be the hero.”
“He was hardly the hero.” And though he’d been Winnie’s escort, he had practically salivated when Grace had appeared in that
gown. “No luck with his card games?”
“He truly quit.” Jack sulked. “Inconvenient time for him to clean up his act.”
“Maybe Grace made him stop.” Grace’s perfect life likely did not involve a soon-to-be husband who gambled away the family
fortune.
“Doubtful. Especially with how he looks at Winnie.”
Emmy rolled her eyes. “He’s entertaining Winnie to placate his mother.”
“It’s more than that. Which is good for us, given that I’ve made no progress with him.” He tossed his wet hair away from his
eyes. “Knowing him, he’ll try to get you alone soon. We’ll have to make sure he can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll . . . well, he’ll make advances.”
That, Emmy hadn’t expected. Jack watched her intently, perhaps waiting for her to panic. Trying not to blush, she slipped off her shoes and dipped her toes into the cool water. “That would certainly push Grace’s buttons.”
Jack blinked. Twice. “You’d be willing?”
“If it ruins Grace’s chance at an engagement, absolutely.” But that wouldn’t be enough to drive a wedge between Oliver and
Grace. They’d been sneaking around for years. They’d lied together. Killed together. As far as Emmy could tell, the only reason they weren’t already engaged was Mrs. Stratton’s blatant disapproval
of Grace’s pedigree.
“Well, well, well.” Jack’s teasing smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Who’s the rake now?”
In the distance, Jimmy and Caleb roared with laughter. For two people who claimed to aggravate each other, they certainly
enjoyed each other’s company. “Should they be that far from shore? They could be seen.”
“Night swims aren’t criminal offenses.” Jack’s head tilted as he assessed her. “Is that why you’re not swimming? You’re worried?”
Though he said it with unusual softness, Emmy bristled. “I’m on this rock because I don’t have swim clothes.”
“So transform something.”
As if she’d ever owned a bathing suit or knew how they were made. “It’s too cold.”
“You’re dripping in sweat.” He gripped her ankle. “You leave me no choice.”
Emmy stilled, heat spreading from that point of contact. “Don’t you dare.”
“Jimmy said you used to love jumping off the pier.” He lifted a single brow in challenge. “And I’ve seen you swim in far colder
water.”
How he loved to pretend he knew her. She tried to kick at his hand. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
That reckless smile only grew as he tightened his grip on her ankle.
“Jack Fontaine,” she hissed, searching the smooth rock for something to hold, “I swear to God, I’ll transform you into a gnat
and squash you.”
“I don’t think you will.” Lightning quick, he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her.
For a moment, Emmy was suspended in the air, hardly able to register that he had, in fact, thrown her. And then she plunged
into the river, water bubbling past her ears, her eyes, shockingly cool. With a swipe of her hands, she transformed her water-logged
gown to a simple slip and kicked her way to the surface.
Jack was laughing as she reappeared, which would not do, so she dunked him until that smirk sank into the water. He had her
by the waist a moment later, and though she swatted at his arms, he tossed her again.
She’d never heard this unguarded laugh of his. And she rather liked it, which only infuriated her further, so she grabbed
his leg, yanking him until the river swallowed the sound. But he kicked free and grabbed her, dragging them both to the surface.
“Do you yield?” He pinned her against the boulder, grinning victoriously.
She transformed her pointer finger into a knife and pressed it to his neck. “Do you yield?”
“Completely.” He uttered it as if he’d won, though they were at an impasse: her knife on his neck, her back against the rock.
His knees dug into her thighs. His face so close, she could count the water droplets on his lashes. The flecks of silver in
his eyes, brighter than she’d ever seen them.
So close, those wicked lips were barely a few inches away.