Page 55 of To Heist and to Hold

One month later

Heloise, dear, some letters have come for you.”

Heloise, in the process of inspecting a sword in the makeshift fencing salon at the Wimpole Street house, glanced up excitedly. She never received letters, after all, having no one to write to. Except…

“Julia?”

Sylvia smiled. “It appears so.”

Heloise needed no further urging. Placing the sword aside, she sprinted for Sylvia, tearing into the first letter the moment it was in her hands.

Her eyes fairly raced over the page, devouring every elegantly penned word before, with a happy sigh, she read it a second time, slower now, relishing every happy sentence.

“She is well?”

Heloise grinned at her. “More than well. Oh, Sylvia, I never believed she could find such joy in life. She and Miss Newberg have had the most wonderful adventures already, and only a month into their trip. It is as if she was made for traveling the world.”

“How splendid. It appears Lady Ayersley did her quite the favor forcing her to quit with that whole jewelry fiasco.” She gave Heloise a sly look. “And she is not the only one who has bloomed from the rubble of that mess.”

Heloise’s face heated, even as she smiled. That was too true. If not for Lady Ayersley and her propensity for gambling well beyond her means, she would never have lost her jewelry at Dionysus, and Heloise would never have met Ethan, and they would not have fallen in love.

Her heart thumped happily in her chest as she recalled their promise to meet that evening at the club. Not that they did not meet nightly as it was. But that did not stop the giddy anticipation from filling her. Yes, it had been serendipitous, indeed. If only…

She stopped the rogue thought in its tracks. No if only . Did she wish to spend every possible moment with him? Yes. Did she wish they had a place of their own that was away from Dionysus, a haven that was just for them? Also yes.

But she would not complain, would take him wherever and whenever she could have him, and gladly.

“As I said,” Sylvia murmured, “she is not the only one who has bloomed. But what is that second letter you have there?” She indicated the missive Heloise had tucked beneath her arm while she’d read over Julia’s letter.

Still smiling, certain this was yet another letter from her sister-in-law that had gotten delayed in the post, she opened it as well—only to be met with an unfamiliar scrawl. Frowning, she quickly read the short note.

“This is not as happy a message as the first, I take it?” Sylvia queried.

“No, it’s not,” Heloise replied. “It seems someone is in need of our help.”

“Have we got another job to do, then?” She sidled closer to peer over Heloise’s shoulder. “They appear quite desperate. You should visit them straightaway.”

Heloise glanced at her in surprise. “What, now?”

“There really is no better time than the present, my dear,” Sylvia replied. Then, placing a firm hand at the small of her back, she steered her toward the door. “I shall inform Strachan to prepare the carriage for you.”

“I cannot go this minute,” Heloise balked, trying to dig in her heels. But Sylvia, to her surprise, was much stronger than she’d believed.

“Oh, but you must,” the other woman said, her tone firm and brooking no argument.

“But Isaac, Teagan, and Parsons are due to arrive shortly to continue our fencing lessons.”

By then they had reached the landing. Sylvia, hands firm on her arms, continued to propel her down to the ground floor. “Strachan,” she called out. “The carriage please.”

That woman glanced up with a scowl before, huffing a beleaguered “Aye,” she stormed off.

Sylvia gave Heloise a bracing smile. “I am quite certain the men will not mind the delay,” she proclaimed with certainty. “And in any case, I should dearly love to visit with them. It is not every day a person has three gaming hell owners at her disposal.” She laughed delightedly.

Just then they reached the front hall. Before Heloise could continue her resistance, Sylvia grabbed her outerwear and helped her put it on.

Or, rather, she forcibly tugged it on before spinning Heloise about and pushing her out the front door.

And then the carriage was pulling up in front of the house, and she was ushered inside and was on her way.

Later, much later, when her senses had returned to her, Heloise would laugh at herself for not realizing that there was no way in heaven or on earth that the carriage could have been readied and in front of the house in such a short time, much less know where to go without her telling the driver.

The only thing she could wonder in that baffling moment was why Sylvia was so eager for her to leave, and what exactly was waiting for her at the address in the mysterious letter—an address that they reached much more quickly than she could comprehend.

The driver opened the carriage door, offering a hand, and helped her down to the pavement.

Still quite dazed, Heloise looked about, blinking in surprise when she saw the long row of elegant town houses, all shining in the early morning sunlight.

Brook Street. The name had not fully sunk in when she’d initially read it.

Now, however, as she stood on the pavement gazing up at their destination, with its quietly beautiful bright white stone and sparkling windows, she recognized what this place was: a fashionable street in Mayfair, most certainly not where their typical clientele came from.

Suddenly inexplicably nervous, Heloise cleared her throat and smoothed her skirts before climbing the steps to the front door.

Her knock was answered immediately, a stoic butler pulling the door wide before the sound echoed away, as if he had been waiting on the other side of the door for her.

“Madam,” he said, bowing deferentially, stepping aside so she could enter.

Blinking, Heloise paused for the briefest moment before, taking a deep breath, she crossed the threshold. The butler closed the door behind her, indicating she should follow him.

The nervousness that had begun to fill her upon her arrival multiplied tenfold as he led the way up the curving staircase to the first floor and no doubt the drawing room.

The house was light and airy, decorated in gentle blues and ivories that reminded her, strangely enough, of Ethan’s private apartment at Dionysus, with the addition of the pale greens of her own rooms at the Wimpole Street house.

It gave her a feeling of familiarity that should have been jarring, yet it felt oddly comfortable.

Which only served to increase her nervousness even further.

Why, she wondered a bit wildly, did she feel as if something momentous was about to occur, as if her life would be forever changed in the next minutes?

That feeling only intensified as, much to her bafflement, they bypassed the doors on the first floor and headed for the next staircase and what no doubt were the private apartments.

“Excuse me,” she called after the butler, “but are you certain I should be shown to the family floor?”

“Yes, madam,” the man said, not so much as glancing back, keeping on his determined path.

Still utterly confused, Heloise nevertheless continued after him. Finally they stopped at a white paneled door, and the butler threw it wide.

“Please wait in here a moment,” he murmured with a bow. A bow he did not rise from until Heloise, on shaking legs, stepped into the room. One glance about the space, however, and she quite forgot the man altogether.

While the rest of the house had seemed vaguely familiar, this room felt as if someone had reached into her mind and filled it with everything she loved.

There were several swords displayed on the wall, ones eerily similar to those she’d made herself, as well as books she loved, paintings of some of the places she dreamed of visiting, even an embroidered pillow that looked like one Sylvia had been working on these past weeks.

And then there was a faint sound at the door, and she turned to see that person she loved more than any other enter the room.

She shook her head in confusion. She was supposed to be meeting a client; what was Ethan doing here?

She must be seeing things. But he remained solid and wonderful as he strode toward her.

And then he smiled, a nervous, lopsided thing, and took her hands in his, and she knew that her future, that future she’d been so certain was soon to change, was about to become more beautiful than she could ever have imagined.

Ethan had never been more nervous. Even so, as his insides quaked and his legs trembled beneath him, he knew he had never been happier.

Heloise had given that to him, had brought light and joy to a life that had been nothing but darkness and anger, had worked her way into his heart and cleared away the cobwebs of his unhappy and brutal past, replacing it with a bright and shining future.

He had never given his future much thought before now.

It had been something to bear, to get through, a burden he’d been forced to shoulder.

Now, however, as he held Heloise’s hands in his, that future beckoned him, like the warmth of the sun rising, ending the pitch-black night his life had been and lighting his world with beautiful, brilliant color.

“Ethan?” she asked faintly.

He soaked in the sound of his name on her lips, a beautiful sound he would never tire of hearing.

“You’re finally here,” he breathed.

“Here?” She cast a glance about the room. “Just where is here ? I thought I was meeting someone who required my help. And yet here you are.” She frowned slightly, her confusion palpable. “In a house that is far more familiar than it should be.”

“I’m the one who requires your help,” he managed.

Her gaze returned to him, wide-eyed now. “You?”

He nodded. “And you’re the only one who can save me.” He drew her closer, wrapping his arms about her, his eyes scouring her face. “I have a proposition for you, you see, a particular case that will be a lifelong commitment should you be willing to take it on.”

Understanding began to soften her eyes then, along with the tears that began to well in their pale blue depths. A small, tremulous smile lifted her lips at the corners. “Let me hear this proposition, then, so I may determine if I should accept.”

His heart pounded in his chest, carrying him ever closer to that happiness he had never thought to reach. There was just one final step to take, one last leap of faith…

Pulling back from her, he reached into his jacket pocket for the small item within, still warm from his body. And then he dropped to one knee and held that physical manifestation of his promise out to her.

Her mouth opened in a soft gasp, her hands going to her chest, the soft tears that had been pooling in her eyes spilling over.

He smiled, even as he felt the answering tears in his own eyes tracking down his cheeks.

“You have given me a happiness I never thought to claim, never thought I deserved,” he rasped. “And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life dedicating myself to you. Here, in this house I’ve purchased for our future together. To love each other, grow old together…”

His throat closed at that, and it took some seconds before he was able to speak again. When he did, the words poured from him, that question he had been aching to ask her since the moment he’d realized he loved her.

“Will you marry me, Heloise?”

The smile that lit her face was as bright as the sun. In the next moment she dropped to her knees in front of him, her strong arms going about him, her tear-streaked face pressing into his neck. Her voice sounded in his ear then, more beautiful than any music.

“Yes, Ethan,” she choked out. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He crushed her to him, achingly aware of their hearts pounding as one against each other. “I love you, Heloise.”

“And I love you, Ethan.”

He pulled back then, taking her hand in his, his heart fuller than he’d ever imagined it could be as she gave him a watery smile. And as he slid the ring on her finger and pulled her close to claim her lips with his, he felt he’d finally come home.