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E velyn hurried down the employee hallway of the National Gallery Museum. She only had a short window of time. She knew she likely wouldn’t get her old position back—their wealthy donors would not accept that—but that wasn’t why she was here.

She had once been an asset to the museum. A celebrated art conservator. At the very least, the museum director could provide a reference for her next job in Paris. Whatever that may be.

As she reached the doors that led into their studio, she paused to take a few deep, calming breaths.

Immediately, her mind switched over to Ollie.

It had been happening more and more as the day had progressed.

Evelyn found herself feeling rather unbalanced by it and she didn’t like that.

The sooner she could leave for Paris, the better.

There would be a contract dispute with the earl and after the kindness Ollie had shown her, she did not want Ollie to get wrapped up in that mess. And what a mess it would be.

Shaking her hands out and stretching her neck, Evelyn found the courage to push the distressing thoughts away and open the studio door.

She smiled at the feeling of normalcy. At Mr. James Burlington and Mr. David Currow focused deeply on their work. The same exact morning she used to walk into.

“Good morning,” Evelyn said brightly as she crossed the room to her desk. She wanted to take an inventory of the work accomplished during her absence and would then go find the museum director. And apologize profusely.

Both colleagues looked up, and their mouths fell open upon seeing her. Mr. Currow nearly dropped the thin paintbrush he was holding. Mr. Burlington was holding a pencil and it snapped in his hand.

“What in the blazes do you think you’re doing here?” Mr. Burlington asked with disdain.

That was odd. Evelyn began eyeing the collection of paintings near her desk.

“I came by to speak to the director.” She hadn’t been absent long, and she was pleased to find one of Dantes’s paintings had finished its restoration during her absence.

“Oh, brilliant work! Look how lovely this is again.” She turned around to face the men, smiling brightly.

But there was a coldness around them that caused her smile to melt away.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, frowning. Mr. Currow didn’t respond. He only looked at Mr. Burlington once before huddling back down to his work.

So she turned to Mr. Burlington for an answer.

“You’ve been gone for days,” he finally said.

“Yes. I know, I apologize. I’m sure you understand the circumstances were a bit unique.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her. Something about his demeanor wasn’t sitting well with her, so she turned back around and distracted herself by deeply studying the paintings by her desk.

“Well, Miss Sparrow, or whatever your name is now, I don’t know who you think you are prancing in here like that.” He laughed, but it didn’t sound friendly. “I’m sorry, do you think you still have your job?”

Evelyn felt a slap of heat on her face and she swallowed.

“I’m here to speak to the director.” She was about to tell him about her plan to get a reference for Paris but snapped her mouth shut.

Something told her not to trust Mr. Burlington, and she was going to listen to that feeling.

She forced her attention onto her task at hand, and as she looked through the collection of paintings, she came across one and stilled.

It was the Gustave Courbet the Signature Swindler had taken. The woman in the painting continued her saucy bathing as if she hadn’t been on an adventure all over London. A rush of emotion hit Evelyn. Ollie may not have been the one to return it. But Evelyn knew he’d asked his uncle to.

And the fact that it was concealed told her there had been great care in making sure no one had ever known it had been missing.

Her colleagues had never found out.

Her client had never found out.

Relief washed over her.

“Miss Sparrow, are you listening?”

Evelyn turned to face Mr. Burlington. “Apologies. I was distracted.”

Mr. Burlington, face reddening, stood up and grabbed something off his desk. He went over to Evelyn and handed over the morning edition of the newspaper.

The headline was Runaway Bride Runs to Another Altar!

“Oh, dear.” She skimmed the article. It announced to all of England she and Ollie had married in secret and theorized the reason for the secret wedding.

The journalist concluded it was either the most romantic story of the century, or the most dramatic pregnancy coverup.

Of course, both the earl and her father had refused to comment.

But the journalist had failed to uncover the most important point—they weren’t actually married.

This did, however, nearly guarantee that the director would give her a job reference. This should have lightened the weight on her shoulders. But it didn’t.

She swallowed and gave it back. “What about it?” The words shook.

“I was almost a rich man.” Mr. Burlington ripped the newspaper out of her hand. With a quick movement, he tore off the front page and scowled down at it. “I wouldn’t have had to work another day in my life! You blasted fool—you ruined everything!”

“What are you talking about?” she nearly shouted back.

“Are you daft? I’m the one who turned you in. It was so obvious that you were staying with the idiot McNab.”

Anger began to boil in her veins. “Watch what you say, Mr. Burlington,” she warned. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Currow spin around to watch.

“I can’t believe you married him. Him ! The man has air for brains. You two will create some of the most mind-numbingly daft children in existence.”

Mr. Burlington may as well have hit her with his fists, the words stung that hard.

But before she could even begin to think how to retort, the director walked in. He looked quite surprised to see her. “Miss Sparrow! That is… Mrs. McNab. What are you doing here?”

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest. This was what she’d wanted—to get that job reference from the director.

Right?

“I came to…” She checked the clock. She had come here already with hardly any time to spare. All this conversation, unexpected conversation at that, was delaying her more than she was expecting.

If she didn’t leave within minutes, she would miss her ship to Paris.

She thought back over her treatment here.

Not by the director, not by the others in the museum.

But Mr. Burlington and Mr. Currow, the people she spent day in and day out with.

They’d belittled her, they’d bullied her, they saw her as a stupid woman and not an equal.

No, not an equal—she was better than them.

They knew it. And it made them furious to be beneath a woman.

She cleared her throat. “I came to say goodbye.”

The director gave her a knowing smile. “I understand completely. Once a woman marries, she must not work.”

Annoyance hit Evelyn. Why did men expect women to give up everything in their life for them?

“No, I’m moving to Paris,” she said definitively. “Farewell, then!” She walked past the stunned men, glad to never have to work with them again, shoved the doors open hard, and left her dream behind.

Though she didn’t have the reference she would like to have, it wasn’t the end of the world. Once settled in to her new life, she could always write the director requesting one.

Despite this, she did begin running across Trafalgar Square as fast as she could. People gasped and shouted, but she didn’t care. As she reached the other side, she collapsed onto a park bench, feeling almost elated.

Loud giggling caught her attention and she looked to her left. There was a couple walking together. But wait a minute. Evelyn’s back straightened. They weren’t walking together—they were roller skating.

“Darling, you’ll catch me if I fall?” the woman asked her beau, biting her lip with nervous anticipation.

“Of course. It’s rather simple. You’ll see. Here, let go of me. You can do it.” The man let go of her and she pressed forward slowly, wobbling a bit, but managed to stay on her feet. She made a wide circle around her beau, scaring away a few pigeons in the process, and he watched with a proud grin.

She squealed with glee. “Look at me! Look how fast I can move. It’s like I’m flying!” With laughter of pure joy, she then wheeled into his awaiting arms.

Evelyn watched, giggling as the couple began to roller skate together.

Evelyn had never learned to roller skate and until now, it had never been something she’d been interested in.

But it looked like good fun, and she liked that one could move quite fast. Briefly, she imagined Ollie teaching her to roller skate.

Together, they could fly all over London.

But Big Ben began to chime and interrupted the fantasy.

Paris awaited.

*

The ship rose high like a mountain, gleaming in the sunlight like a pretty jewel. Men and women dressed in traveling outfits hurried past her and up the ramp to climb onto the ship’s deck.

Evelyn glanced around, seeking her sister. Secretly, she also hoped to find Ollie but immediately scolded herself for something so ridiculous.

He wouldn’t have been here. He didn’t even know she was here. And he promised to never again chase after her.

It took a few moments, but she eventually spotted her sister looking around fretfully.

“Cordelia!” Evelyn shouted as loud as she could and waved her hand above her head.

Cordelia spun around in her direction and also waved high in response.

Once Evelyn had reached her, they hugged each other tightly. Evelyn looked over her sister’s shoulder and spotted something. “My trunk! Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to see it again.”

“Yes! I made sure to bring it with me when I left your dinner last night.”

Evelyn forced a smile. This was a good thing, she had to remind herself.

“Come. We must get on board now or we’ll miss our trip.”