Seven
Six Years Ago
I t was a lucky thing I spotted him outside through my window, standing at the street corner, looking up at the house. Lucas was out, and if he came home while Adam was outside… I didn’t want to think about what would happen.
It was also a lucky thing that I was nearly ready to go, so all I had to do was grab my purse before racing down the stairs.
Mother, sitting in the drawing room, gasped as I ran by.
“Going out with Flora for a bit!” I called over my shoulder, doing my best not to slam the door behind me.
Adam was waiting at our gate, just at the end of the little walk to our front door. He wore his nicest clothes—untattered trousers, a jacket over his linen shirt, shoes shining—and in his hand was a single flower, a deep red rose. Our eyes met, and he grinned.
I melted a little as I went to him, but remembered the circumstances.
“You can’t walk up to the house,” I whispered, voice low to keep from drawing the attention of Mother and our servants. I unlocked the gate and quickly ushered him away.
His eyes widened, fingers still firm around the flower stem, then his brows furrowed, letting me lead him away.
“What’s so bad about me coming to your house?”
A trace of offense in his voice.
I hadn’t realized he remembered where it was. We were supposed to meet a few blocks away, outside a cafe. Seeing him out my window had been a shock, in which my heart soared for two entirely different reasons all at once.
I glanced at the dark brick facade over my shoulder, satisfied when no one ran out after us. “ My brother ,” I said. I linked my arm with his as we continued on down the street, slowing our pace a few houses down.
Adam peered at me with narrowed eyes. “You don’t want your brother to see us?”
“It’s just—he will forbid me seeing you. I’ll be locked inside,” I tried to explain, hoping it came out like a jest. “It’s best not to let my family know.”
He frowned, but let me lead him further down the pavement. A few of the neighbors noticed us, out of the corners of their eyes, and I prayed once more it wouldn’t reach Mother. Those women she had over for tea loved to speculate about the other women in the neighborhood, as though the goings-on of the neighborhood was a dramatic play for them to titter over .
“I really don’t think your brother will be appearing anytime soon,” Adam said with a slight laugh.
“How would you know?” I took a deep breath. We were lucky—this time.
Adam gave a one-shoulder shrug, watching the street straight ahead. “Just a feeling.”
I pulled him to a stop, my heart still quick in my chest, both from the young man next to me and from the prospective trouble we’d avoided.
Smiling up at Adam, I stepped in front of him, wanting to shrug it all off. He gazed down at me, and after a moment, a small smile began at the corners of his lips. Boyishly, a strand of hair hung down in front of his eyes, escaping the clean cap atop his head. His skin was free of ink, his hazel eyes bright in the late-afternoon sun.
“I managed to get the afternoon off. For you.” A dimple appeared in his cheek.
I knew how much that meant—one day without his wages. He lived a completely different life than I, every moment of his time spent at a printing press, hanging the pages to dry, folding and packing them for their customers.
He held the flower up, then tucked it into my hair, right behind my ear.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
And he leaned down, our faces so close, I thought my heart stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek, his lips feather-light, his breath warm, and I couldn’t help but smile my brightest smile as he pulled away. I felt warm all over like melted chocolate, my face flushed at his affection .
A twinge of pink turned his cheeks, too.
“I was looking forward to this all day,” I said, unable to make my voice any louder than a whisper, for fear I would shout. “I don’t want you to think—”
“It’s okay,” Adam smiled.
I didn’t want to mess this up. I didn’t want my fear of Lucas to push him away, or worse, make him think I was embarrassed of him. To be seen with him.
Any boy I fancied would draw Lucas’ temper, no matter what class. But, I knew, Lucas and Mother cared more for others’ classes than I. Flora and I had made fast friends with many of the children of our families’ servants, and still to this day, I didn’t think they were much different from she or I. We still invited them to our lunches when we could.
Adam was different. Any boy who called on me, with Mother’s permission, of course, would be under close scrutiny. It had only happened once before, but it did not last long, especially once Mother mentioned it in a letter to Lucas. Whatever his response, it compelled Mother to forbid any courting for the time being.
I couldn’t have a repeat with Adam. There was something about him, something in his eyes, a dark sheen, an intensity I hadn’t seen in any other of the boys my age, that drew me in.
He felt real .
And the way he looked at me now… with those gleaming eyes—there was a hunger there that sparked a flame inside me.
If Mother knew it, she’d drag me to church.
My cheeks were positively red as he offered me his arm again. “Shall we? ”
I nodded, and we began down the street again, but not before he glanced over his shoulder toward the house. Maybe my paranoia was rubbing off on him?
“You know, I was looking forward to seeing you again, too,” he said as we walked.
A small laugh came from me. “I’d hope so. I wouldn’t want to be the only one.”
He smiled at me out of the corner of his eye. “You never came to visit me.”
When we ran into each other—when we met—I had said I would. But it was very hard to sneak away from Mother if Flora was not involved. The only way I hadn’t earned her suspicion tonight was because if Flora and I were going out to an early dinner, now would be the time. She thought I was with my best girlfriend, not a young man .
And I had never done anything like this before, so why would she suspect otherwise?
I avoided his gaze. “I don’t think your boss would appreciate some girl hanging around.”
“No,” he admitted. “Especially one so distracting.” He grinned at me again. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t watch out the windows every day.”
My heart fluttered. “You watched for me?”
“Of course,” he said, like it was obvious. “And it seems I had to come retrieve you myself.”
Somehow, the way he said those words, low and teasing and laced with want—the same want I was feeling. The promise of those words, the dangerous lilt. I swallowed, my fingers on his arm tightening .
He did retrieve me himself, in a way. An envelope left for me in the mail, which my mother swore she hadn’t seen when she brought it in, with just my name on the outside in a stilted script. When I opened it in the privacy of my bedroom, I found it was from him. A letter, proposing a date. And without any return address, the only thing left to do was make sure I was ready when the time came.
I just hadn’t expected to see him outside our gate.
We strolled on in silence, a confident smirk pulling at his lips as blocks of houses and other pedestrians passed behind us. He didn’t pay them one mind, but I caught the eye of a few passersby, saw the way their upper lip hitched, the way the spot between their brows wrinkled.
Eventually, we made it to the cafe, and he ordered for the both of us, before we found a table and he pulled the wicker chair out for me. In a few minutes, a waiter was bringing us our drinks, as well as a few flaky pastries I hadn’t expected. A steaming black coffee was placed before Adam, and for me, an amber-hued tea and a few cubes of sugar in a little cup.
My eyes shot to Adam. “Earl Grey?”
“Is it not your favorite?”
“How did you know?”
He just grinned at me, taking a slow sip of his own drink. “You must have told me last time.”
Though I was entirely sure I hadn’t. Maybe it was a lucky guess, or he just knew me that well already.
I dropped a few sugars into the hot tea and stirred.
He seemed pleased with himself, an easy smile settled into his features. He had taken his cap off and placed it in his lap. The late afternoon sun turned his hair a warm reddish hue, shining and illuminating his person, so that even his skin brightened. There was mirth in his eyes, an ease and happiness I hadn’t seen the last time we met.
The other boys I’d spoken to, and the only one I’d ever had call on me, couldn’t compare to the young man sitting in front of me. When his dimple appeared, I wanted to touch him, to lean over and place my hand on his cheek, to pull him to me. To tangle my fingers in those red locks.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked me, pulling me from my silence. A few car horns honked somewhere on the street.
I blushed. “Nothing,” I said. If only he knew.
He set his cup down and straightened. “Well, I have some questions for you.”
“Oh?” I set my teacup down as well, leaning on my elbows. My cheeks hurt from smiling.
“You know so much about me, about what I do. What do you do?”
“What do you mean?” I laughed, uncertain.
“What do you do?” he repeated himself. “You must spend your days doing something .”
“Daydreaming, shopping, chatting,” I listed, looking at him through my lashes. Because what could I say? To him, I probably didn’t do much of anything. If he saw me as frivolous, would he become disinterested? And were I honest with myself, I more often than not spent my life doing frivolous things, waiting for the next fun thing to come along. Mother didn’t let me do much, now that my tutoring was done, and I certainly couldn’t find a job. Though, she was bothered I didn’t much want to live my life like she did, putting on a face for others, inviting them over just so they could see how well we were doing. I only cared for Flora and the few acquaintances we’d made in our youth.
Adam leaned closer to me, our faces a mere foot apart over the table, the steam from my Earl Grey citrusy and sweet between us. His eyes flashed with that same intriguing pull from the first time I met him, that sense of danger, of wildness.
“What do you daydream about?” he asked, gaze flickering to my lips.
“Marriage, one day. Being a princess in my own castle.” I smiled. Getting away. You .
He hummed. “Simple, girlish dreams.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“There must be something greater to you, Helena,” he said, voice low. “What do you want?”
I exhaled a laugh again, but saw he was serious. “Well, I don’t know.”
“You must want something.” He was staring at me, eyes hooded, that auburn hair curling around his ears. I never wanted him to look away from me.
You. I want you .
I’d never wanted something, somebody, so entirely.
I swallowed and sat back just an inch. “Must I want something? Can I not be content?”
He shook his head. “You’re not like that.” As though he knew me. “I see it, how you let choices be made for you. But you don’t want it.” Like he knew about Lucas, about my first suitor; like he knew how closely my mother still kept me. How they both had to know everyone in my life, had to watch me, monitor me .
“I chose you,” I said. And it was one of the first true things I’d done on my own. I couldn’t let Lucas or Mother take it— him —away.
Adam studied me, then smiled. “We’re not so different, you and I.”
Perhaps that was the cord between us that felt so tight, a pull from me to him, drawing me in, urging me closer.
“We both want more .”
I nodded, breath hitching in my throat. It was the second time I was ever with him, and my heart raced, feeling as though I were at the precipice of a proposal, an offer to change my world, my life .
My hands in my lap clutched at my skirts, waiting for his next words.
He smiled up at me, those hooded eyes dark and wanting. “And I want to give it to you.”