Page 50

A few trams in London ran this late at night, and Ollie made the short trip he’d made more times than he could count.

Though it felt like ages since he’d made this trip, he still went through the motions by memory. Thankfully, the storm had diminished significantly, though for the first time in his life, he hardly noticed it.

It was a one-block walk from his home, a tram ride, and then another block until his destination came into view. A few deep puddles had to be dodged, and soon enough, familiar lights spilled out of their windows and onto the damp sidewalk and street just ahead.

Ollie stopped and shoved his hands into his pockets. He could feel the tension pulling his shoulders and back. It felt like he had been submerged into a chamber of misery, the way he not only felt it inside of him, but the air that surrounded him as well.

Who knew Evelyn would have such an effect on him?

He had been with more women than he would like to admit, but not one of them had ever turned him into an inferno the way she had. His skin burned from her touch, but his heart was white hot for her.

That… That was new.

As he took a few more steps, his ears echoed with the sharp breaths she’d taken when he’d kissed her neck.

The taste of her sweet kisses, the softness of her skin, the memory of her sighing and pulling him to the wall, gripping him with a desperate desire he felt himself.

The way she’d pressed herself against him.

Her large eyes dark with want, red hair wild and free.

She was absolutely, stunningly beautiful.

Against every rule and plan they’d put in place, against knowing better, Ollie had wanted Evelyn Sparrow—or was it Evelyn McNab—in the most animalistic, carnal way. It consumed him as if he were dry kindling, ignited from an impassioned kiss.

She was his wife. And he was her husband.

Shaking away the thoughts and feelings haunting him, he tried to force himself to close the distance between him and the building just ahead.

But what would he do when he got there?

What in the blazes would he even say?

Ollie put his attention across the street, recalling the alleyway there. He angled in that direction, turned into the alley and, once covered by the misty shadows of night, leaned against the old, brick building to watch the building across the street from beneath the brim of his top hat.

He wanted to go there, to that building.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Rough night?” a voice echoed from the depth of the dark alley somewhere behind Ollie.

Ollie nearly shouted but held it back. He spun around and found his uncle wearing his terrifying costume.

“Would you take that blasted mask off? You’re going to give me a heart attack,” Ollie hissed through clenched teeth.

Eamon removed the hat and mask, and Ollie watched his own face grin back at him. Having a newly discovered family member who resembled him this closely was going to take a while to get used to. “Where the blazes did you come from? You weren’t there two seconds ago.”

Eamon shrugged as he set his costume down on a stack of crates nearby.

“What is that costume, anyway? Why do you wear it?”

Eamon stepped over to Ollie to lean against the wall beside him. “It depends. Nowadays, I mostly wear it when I leave my place because I don’t like people seeing me anymore.”

Ollie made a face. “That doesn’t make sense. You stand out more with it on.”

“Yes, but they can’t see me underneath. I could be anyone. And I feel better wearing it. More secure, I guess, with a mask on.”

“Right. And what are the other purposes for your costume?”

“I used to wear it to get into the nobs’ costume parties. I spent a pretty coin on it. If you look closely”—Eamon pinched his black cape and lifted it so Ollie could see it better—“there’re hundreds of hours of embroidery on here.”

“Are those stars?” Ollie squinted, trying to see better. It was all done in midnight blue thread against the black fabric.

“It’s the night sky. With full accuracy.

You can see it better in light, like at the costume balls.

Anyway, once the entire party was drunk, I’d break in or climb into a window or balcony, take their jewelry, and then go eat their food, drink their alcohol, and dance with their women.

Their staff never questioned someone in a costume like mine.

” Eamon grinned widely. “Plus, costume balls let you get away with all sorts of debauchery, which I know you are well aware of.”

Ollie frowned deeply at this, but he couldn’t deny it, either. He put his attention back on the building across the street.

“So, what are we doing here?” Eamon asked.

“I’m here because I had to get out of my house and had nowhere else to go. Why you’re here, I couldn’t say. Aren’t you ever going to get sick of following me around?”

“I made a promise, remember?”

Ollie let out a sigh.

“And I haven’t passed the responsibility off. Yet, anyway.”

Ollie looked back at his uncle. “And what does that mean?”

“It means you and your wife haven’t figured out how dense you both are, so my shift isn’t over.”

Ollie narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Eamon laughed but didn’t answer the question, a truly annoying habit of his. “I presume you and your wife got into some kind of fight, you stormed out, and since you had nowhere else to go, you came here?”

“I didn’t storm out . I waited until she was asleep.”

Eamon let out a low, long whistle. “You snuck out. That’s the worst thing you could do.”

“I didn’t sneak out,” Ollie bit back.

“Did you announce your departure? Did you knock on her door and say, ‘ Sweetums, I shall return soon. I need to go cool my head ’?”

Ollie glared at him. “No.”

“Did you check to make sure she was actually asleep?”

“Of course not. What if I woke her?”

Eamon lifted one dark eyebrow. “If you couldn’t sleep, then why do you think she could? Women always know what their men are up to. I guarantee she knows you snuck out.”

“I didn’t sneak out!”

“Of course not, of course not. Then why are you hiding here, instead of going over there?” Eamon pointed across the street to The Harp & Thistle.

Ollie bit his lip. “All right. Evelyn and I did get into…something. I don’t know what you would even call it.

No voices were raised, but it still wasn’t pleasant.

Anyway, I came here because I’m in a mood and I feel like I could face Victor right now and argue my way back into work.

Evelyn’s going to be gone soon and then what?

I mope around, pitiful? No. Life needs to go back to normal once she’s gone. ”

Eamon rubbed his chin in thought. “That easy?”

“That easy.”

Eamon slapped Ollie on the back. “Well, then get on with it! Go on over there, give Victor a piece of your mind, boyo.”

Ollie put his attention back on his pub.

Through the windows, he could see lots of movement.

It was crowded, so they were doing well enough without him.

He couldn’t pick out individuals, however.

He did know Victor and Dantes were both in there, and maybe even Vivian and Lady Litchfield, though by this time, they were usually gone.

“Well?” Eamon said after a prolonged time.

“I’m not going over there. Not yet, anyway.”

“You know, you could always come work for me.”

Ollie turned around and furrowed his brow deeply. “Doing what?”

“Like old times. Break into homes, steal their jewelry. You were a very talented thief when you were younger.”

“No,” Ollie replied immediately. “If you like doing that, fine. But I won’t.”

“You’re sure? We could make some good money. Far better pay than honest work.”

“I have money already, thanks. And you live in a tenement.”

Eamon shrugged. “I’ve lived there for twenty years. Don’t like to change things up. Happy to stay where I am, where people mind their own business.” Eamon studied Ollie. “You’re sure ?”

“Yes. End of discussion.” It was absurd, and he wouldn’t even humor his uncle by pretending to think about it.

“All right. If you insist. Then what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Convince your wife to not leave?”

“No. She’s set on leaving. I can’t stop her. Won’t.”

“But you care for her.”

Ollie’s heart skipped a beat. “Which is why I’m not going to stop her.” He turned to face his uncle. “Her mind is made up. What am I going to do, beg? No.”

“You could try it.”

“No one should be begged to stay. If she wanted to stay, she would. I have some pride.”

“But—”

“Why won’t you drop it, Christ,” Ollie said, now irritated. Why did the cad keep going on about it? It only made Ollie feel worse.

Eamon pressed his lips together tight and began kicking small pebbles. “All right. Good luck, then.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Eamon glanced up. “What time is her family going to be there for the dinner?”

Ollie narrowed his eyes. So, Evelyn had told him about it. “Why?”

“I want to see the outcome. From a distance, obviously. You can’t deny your dear Uncle Eamon that, can you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever not serious?”

Ollie frowned. Eamon laughed.

He knew his uncle would watch from a distance, as it was pretty clear the man did not like to interact with other people more than necessary.

What harm could come from telling him? “Dinner is going to be at eight o’clock sharp.

Evelyn sent them a note.” Ollie thought back to earlier, the pair sitting together and penning the note to her family.

They had decided to keep it informative but short.

“ Please have dinner with us ,” he recalled her writing across the paper. “ There is something I need to discuss with you and I request you do not bring the earl. It would not be in anyone’s best interest, and you’ll understand why soon enough. ”

They hadn’t responded, not that he or Evelyn had expected them to.

Ollie and Eamon watched The Harp & Thistle in silence for a bit. But Ollie didn’t muster up the courage to confront Victor. He would do it another day.

*