He took a step forward, lifting a hand to reach out, and then letting it fall. Gran had said control wasn’t possible, not with Nick’s strange bloodline. And if anyone knew about magic, it was Gran Cooper. Evelina said nothing, her chest too tight to speak.
Even without the wild magic, she wasn’t sure they could stay together. She didn’t belong in his world anymore, and he’d never belong in Mayfair, and love wasn’t everything. Her parents had been a similar mismatch, and she’d watched her mother fade like a flower cut off from its sustaining vine, shriveling until she died. That had left a shadow on Evelina’s soul that was impossible to dispell.
He must have seen her thoughts on her face. “Very well. I’ll go.”
“I’m sorry.” It was all she could think of to say.
His features were a neutral mask, giving away nothing. “One thing before I leave. I overheard Bancroft talking with Magnus.”
“When?”
He sank back onto the sofa. Perhaps he was healed, but he was clearly still exhausted. “Earlier tonight. I’ve been trying to find a way to speak to you. I wanted to warn you about Magnus, but this place is guarded like Buckingham Palace.”
She hugged herself, afraid to come any closer to him. “I’m glad you stayed away. It’s too dangerous for you to be here.”
He leaned forward and peered up under his brows. She knew the look—it was the one he used when he spoke from his gut. “Evie, we go too far back for me to stand by and watch you sail into a storm.”
There was no answer to that. Her throat ached too much anyway, filled with unshed tears—of gratitude, of regret, and mostly of confusion.
“Magnus wants something,” Nick said. “I don’t understand what it is, but he thinks he can make Lord Bancroft help him get it from the Gold King. And he’s stolen something from Bancroft, and he’s holding it over his head. Something—he said trunks and cargo—that sounds like it would ruin him.”
The automatons! Evelina tingled with excitement. “That fits. Bancroft and Magnus were friends once, but now they hate each other.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know how it started. Whatever it is, Lady B and Tobias don’t seem to mind him. It’s between the two men.” She thought of the conversation she’d overheard in the library. Lord Bancroft had looked like a haunted soul from that night on.
“Evelina.” Nick’s face was pale and serious. “Wherever you think your life is going, what we did tonight is who you really are. Magic is in you, and it’s something your new people can’t help you with, even the few who wouldn’t hang you just for having it. And as much as I want to be by your side—and I would cut the heart out of my chest if I thought it would buy me the privilege—I can’t protect you. Not where you’re bound. You’ll be walking alone. That frightens me.”
Her breath caught in her chest, too painful to move. She knew all this, but she didn’t want to hear it in words, least of all from Nick. It was hard enough without adding the memory of his pain-wracked face. Tears blurred the sight of him.
He reached out, taking her hand, the faintest silver light gloving their fingers. His palm was rough and hot, the hands of a man used to work. “Magnus wants you—or what you can do. I’m not sure what he’s planning, but it sounds like a play for power dressed up in big words and mumbo jumbo. He’d dead set on a spat with the steam barons, so you can bet there’s bad news coming.”
His voice was gentle, low and rough and familiar as the smell of horse and the earth under her bare feet. “I know you want to be careful and keep this new life of yours clean, but you’re going to have to be ready for a fight. And tonight was just the start. This isn’t over.”
She barely understood her magic, much less how to fight with it, but that probably didn’t matter. “What’s this all about, anyhow?”
“Power and money.” It was more or less the same thing Tobias had said. “Magic is just a way to get it.”
“I’m in the middle, aren’t I? I’m caught between your world and theirs. Gran Cooper and Grandmamma Holmes.”
That might have been too frank. Nick pulled his hand away, looking down at the floor. She flexed her fingers, already feeling his absence.
“I won’t tell you what to do. I love you too much to keep you in a box, however much I long to keep you safe. But I beg you to be careful.”
The words shook her to the bone, bringing a sting to her eyes. “I will.”
“If you ever want to come home to Ploughman’s, I’ll defend you to my death. But if you stay here, Magnus will know where you are, Evelina.”
Her heart pounded beneath her stays. “I can’t run forever.”
A long pause followed. It was plain to both of them that she wasn’t going back to the circus, though Nick would never know the whole reason. All those years ago, she wouldn’t let him give up the one home he knew for her sake. Magnus or no Magnus, she wasn’t about to do that now.
Nick rose from the chair stiffly. “I have to go.”
She took a step forward, longing to hold him but knowing that meant never letting him go. “What do I do?”
Nick shook his head. “I can’t answer that for you.”
He touched the side of her face lightly, just dusting her skin with magic. She wanted to lean in to the touch, to feel the comfort of his familiar warmth. The earthy salt of his skin called to memories deep in her bones.
Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t want to run or hide or be used by someone else. I just want to be who I am.”
He stepped back, letting go of a sigh. “Then be prepared to fight for it, because only the strongest get to stand on their own.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
SPIE HQ
“There must be a way to make this work.”
Tobias stood back from the stuffed sheep and switched on the device. He was in a mood and more than a little drunk. The late afternoon had been spent at the clubhouse behind the tailor’s shop, trying to make sense out of, well, pretty much everything.
His hoped-for reunion with Dr. Magnus had not occurred beyond a polite greeting at dinner. Magnus had been put at the other end of the table and had disappeared just after the meal. Evelina had apparently taken to her bed with a headache. The two had clearly spoiled each others’ digestion and had left Tobias stranded with Alice Keating. Alice was nice enough—well, actually quite pretty and a definite wit—but she wasn’t Evelina.
Altogether it had been a miserable meal. The tension between his father—who for some reason looked like he’d been in a fight—Jasper Keating, and Dr. Magnus had worn away at his nerves. He had been counting down the minutes until Keating had whipped out some new invention to torture the guests. Perhaps steam-powered thumbscrews, or a spring-loaded guillotine designed for a faster slice.
He hadn’t seen Evelina or Magnus since. He fervently hoped this afternoon would be less of a waste. He was
