26. Chapter 26 #2
His quick laugh deflates months’ worth of tension. Of torturing myself by keeping away from his warmth that simply isn’t a part of my life anywhere else. He closes his eyes, his shoes creaking as he leans close to place a kiss on my forehead. The air vibrates with all that’s left unsaid.
I open my mouth, but a sound below silences me.
“Hey! You there!”
I lunge for Simon. He wraps his arms about me, blocks me from the doorway.
A lantern bobs just below. I shove him back into the shadowed tower, but they are already on the stairs, rushing up toward us—three police officers and Sally.
One arrest. That’s all it would take—one arrest, and Simon would be within the duke’s grasp.
The men come panting up the stairs, swinging a lantern in both our faces. “Who’s this? Who you be?”
I step into the lantern light, head high. “I’m Rosalyn Snow and this—”
“It’s only Silas Snow,” says one of the officers. “From that play in the theater.”
A growl from the constable, then he shoves poor Sally forward. “This the man who robbed you, miss?”
Sally steps closer and looks Simon over, head to toe, arms crossed over her chest. Light and shadow play over her features.
I try to catch her gaze, to plead with her silently, but she’s staring at Simon.
Simply staring. Then she frowns. “No,” she says quietly, almost with wonder.
She uncrosses her arms, letting them fall to her sides. “No, it ain’t him.”
A chorus of sighs and groans follow as the officers turn away.
“You’re certain, miss?” says the constable.
She nods slowly. “I’m certain. He must have gone down that alley.”
One by one they pound down the stairs until only Sally remains, eyes wide in the dark. She looks at me, eyes shining. “I was saved once,” says Sally quietly, “by a one such as him—a man called Silas Snow, wearing a coat just like that.” Her lip trembles. “I’ll never forget it.”
She considers Simon again, then she turns to leave.
“Penelope,” I call out, with sudden realization. “Penelope Pitt.”
She pivots and stares in that dark doorway. And the distant gaslight is just enough to highlight a glimmer of a smile on her face. She turns again and hurries after the officers, leaving us breathless and alone.
“You should not tell me where you’re staying. I cannot bear to be the one to lead him to you.” I step back. “I shan’t give you away, Simon. Not ever.”
“I didn’t choose a stage name to hide,” he says, taking my hand, pulling me toward him again.
“But to be found. By you. If you ever came looking.” He brushes my lips with his, and I lean into his solid presence.
The very scent of him, the familiar feel of that old frock coat, ignites a series of pictures that flash through my heart.
Simon standing between the maid and Uncle, between two feuding men, between a whole passel of vagrants and despair.
Between me and my anger.
He fills the giant cracks of my parched life, and I know I do not belong anywhere I now live. “Please,” I whisper. “Can I keep you?”
A shuddering pause before he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking. I will not steal you from—”
“Rescue me from. I’ve never belonged. Home for me was on the streets as a child. In shelters. Dunn House was only ever a stopover until he came for me, and now… now you shall have to come for me instead.”
His breath comes in quick gasps. He wishes it. He does. His longing is palpable.
I touch his arm. “How would you like a change of circumstances, sir?”
A huff of a laugh. “Charity?”
“I won’t promise Christmas dinner, but I happen to know of a handy little cottage that stands empty.”
“I couldn’t—”
“Just at times, when the theater falls quiet. We shall search that secret room, Simon. We could do it together when I’m in Cornwall. Don’t you wonder who put all those ancient things there? I’ve heard rumors of pirates and smugglers at Dunn Cottage.”
His eyes sparkle. “Your father told me the story, and it’s more than you could imagine.
It was a hiding place for—well, never mind.
There’s more to it than that, and it’s quite a legend.
” He searches my face, dares a brush of his thumb along my cheek.
“I’m not certain what my future holds, but it’s yours, any part of it you want. ”
I rest my forehead on him. I blink back tears. “How can we—?”
“I don’t know.” He sighs. “But I do know I will not live my life waiting for another man to decide whether or not I may exist.” Pain flits across his face, and I know we are both considering what his life cost.
In that moment of quiet, I lay my head against his chest. Nothing in his world is safe, but perhaps it needn’t be. Only a fool believes he can sidestep all trouble.
He sweeps hair off my cheek and kisses the spot. His touch lingers. Then he turns me toward the window. “Look. Look how tiny they are now.”
Below, a few stragglers pass beneath the gas lamps, and carriages rattle by in the darkness. The officers and Sally disappear into the distance. “I didn’t think you saw me up here from the walk. I thought you left.”
“I did leave.” He reaches into his pocket. “Except someone sent me a message, and at the last moment, I followed orders.”
He flattens the playbill against his coat and holds it out to me. I cannot see the words, but I know exactly what is scrawled there:
Lift your eyes.
I turn in his arms and look upon the last gift my father gave to me.
I have not lost Papa. Not entirely. His legacy echoes yet in this world.
As the city falls quiet and snowflakes drift about us, we look through the hole in the roof toward the blue-black sky shot through with light.
I let the world untangle from my soul and fall away.
I haven’t any idea what tomorrow holds, but perhaps that’s best. With eyes fixed on magnificence, on eternity, nothing in this temporary world is big enough to stop us.
For we shall ever lift our eyes.