“Mrs. Comstock, may I be plain?”
She nodded, setting the basin aside and drying her hands on her apron. “I prefer it.”
Avery set the sack gently on the rough wooden table. “I have need of your talents, Mrs. Comstock. Your magical talents.”
The woman’s scowl deepened. “I’ve no more dealings in the Old Ways.”
“It is of vital importance.” He’d beg if necessary. Leah must be allowed to return home if it was her desire.
Mrs. Comstock sighed and gestured to the bag. “Show me.”
When the pieces of the broken mirror were revealed, her countenance darkened. “This is strong magic, this is. Not only time magic, but love-findin’ magic as well. A true sorceress did this.”
“But can it be repaired?” The question was more of a prayer.
She pursed her lips and shoved her straggly hair from her forehead. “I will do me best.”
A wave of relief crested over him. “Thank you, dear lady.”
“Do not thank me yet. I’ve no guarantee it can be repaired, but I’ll do me best.”
Leah and Ella took their time on the way back to Lady Chesterfield’s. After all, they had no reason to rush anymore.
They’d be living the rest of their lives in this century.
Leah kept her mind blank. She could not afford to think of Pawpaw or Avery or of the way she’d cost her friend her future.
She tripped and sprawled in a sobbing heap on the walk in front of Lady Chesterfield’s house. Ella knelt beside her, pulling her up into a sitting position. It was several minutes before Leah could breathe enough to speak.
“Come on. Let’s get inside.”
Ella nodded numbly, and together they made their way into the house.
“Leah dear!” Lady Chesterfield’s voice floated down the stairs. “Whatever has gone on? Muriel has been frantic since you departed so hastily.” She drew up short when she saw Ella.
“Lady Chesterfield.” Leah fought to keep her voice steady despite the tears that wouldn’t quit. “This is Ella Fowler. She came to take me home because my grandfather is very sick. But…the mirror…” Leah stared at the polished floor beneath her feet, struggling to regain control of herself.
“Oh. Oh, my dears.” Lady Chesterfield gathered them both to her feathered bosom. Leah clung to her gratefully, despite the gray feathers that tickled her nose.
The baroness took them into the sitting room and ordered a big pot of tea. Muriel brought it in and she and Ella stepped into the hallway to talk in hushed voices. Leah stared down into the cup of tea she clasped in both hands, wondering how to make sense of this.
“I must apologize to you, dearest.” The settee sank as Lady Chesterfield settled herself beside Leah.
“For what?” She didn’t look up from her teacup. Little rings of tea spread out from the tear that fell into her cup.
Lady Chesterfield laid a warm hand on Leah’s back. “I did not consider many things in the way I assisted you. I assumed that you were as other young ladies of my acquaintance are—in search of a husband of rank and means. But I was quite wrong.”
Leah’s glance wandered upward. “No, you were doing what you thought was right. And I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, so I just went along with it. I should have told you that I had feelings for Avery before I even got here.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Plucking the teacup from Leah’s hands, Lady Chesterfield gathered her into her arms again. “There is no need for it. In the end, my dear, all I have ever wanted was to be a part of your success. The tale of your friend Miss Marten sparked my imagination as nothing has since I dreamed of fairy tales in my youth.”
“You’ve been amazing, Lady Chesterfield.”
As Leah hugged her patroness, she closed her eyes. Nothing had gone the way she’d thought it would, but she had been really lucky to find such a generous and kind friend. She just hadn’t wanted to move in with her. She’d sort of thought she would bring her true love home with her.
The fresh memory of Avery’s rejection wrenched a sob from her.
“My lady?” Muriel appeared in the doorway. “You and Miss Ram have visitors.”
“We are not receiving,” Lady Chesterfield said calmly as she patted Leah’s back.
“But it’s His Grace, the Duke of Granville, and a servant. A male servant, miss. And he said something about the mirror.”
Leah’s heart leaped. “Does he have light brown hair tied in a ponytail? And hazel eyes and scars on his knuckles?”
Muriel’s head had only dipped in half a nod before Leah was running into the entryway. Completely ignoring the duke, she ground to a halt the moment she saw Avery holding a large object wrapped in brown cloth.
“Avery,” she whispered, the words seeming to emanate from her bruised heart. “You came.”
He set the object on the entryway table, slowly and carefully. The duke and Lady Chesterfield withdrew to the sitting room.
Leah fisted her hands at her sides to keep herself steady. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at him and bury her face in his broad chest, but considering the way they’d parted last, she wasn’t sure she’d be welcomed. And another rejection from him might just break her beyond repair.
But then he turned, though his face was bruised and battered, and opened his arms to her.
With a glad cry, she ran to him. She clung to him as though they were adrift at sea and he was the only thing that kept her from sinking. It wasn’t really that far from the truth.
“Leah, my angel, Leah,” he said in a rough voice between kisses that he dropped on her hair. “I am here, I am sorry, I love you.”
“I love you too, Avery.” She turned her face up to him and accepted his kiss eagerly. For a moment, her hellish reality slipped away in the wonderful feeling of his body pressed firmly against hers, his lips and mouth possessing her, his arms holding her tightly. She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him with all the desperate passion she felt.
All too soon, he raised his head.
“I must speak with you,” he said seriously, though he never stopped touching her. “It is important.”
“If you’re here to tell me about the mirror, I know. It’s broken. Ella came to tell me that Pawpaw is really sick, and when we tried to get back, it was gone.” Darkness returned to blanket her, though it wasn’t nearly as dark as it had been before with Avery beside her. But even the presence of her true love didn’t change the fact that her grandfather lay on his deathbed and she couldn’t go to him. She pressed her cheek against Avery’s chest, taking comfort in the firm beat of his heart.
“Yes, it was broken when Prachett…” He trailed off. Leah looked at him darkly but let it pass. “But Mrs. Comstock and I have done our best, and we’ve managed to piece some of it back together.”
The words rumbled through her, and she raised incredulous eyes to his face. “What?”
He pointed to the flat object on the table. “I gathered up as much as I could and took it to her. It is not a large portion, but it should be sufficient for you to pass through.”
“Ella too?” Leah pulled back enough to gesture toward her friend, who stood beside a silent, staring Muriel.
Avery nodded in greeting. “That should be manageable.”
Relief sapped her, and she nearly fell backward, grabbing Avery’s muscled arm in just enough time to prevent it. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re coming too, right?”
Hope and bitter disappointment crossed his expression right after one another. He looked downward, avoiding her gaze. “I cannot.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt. She wanted to yell, to throw a fucking fit. It was either that or cry, and she was so tired of being soggy. “Why not?”
“Muriel, come in here with me, okay?” Ella’s voice barely registered in Leah’s mind, as did the soft click of a closing door behind them.
