Dora considered that for a long moment. “I am one of them,” she said. It was not a complaint, but an observation.
Elias glanced over at her. “You are,” he said. “And now, so am I. I must stop thinking of myself apart from everyone else, as though I am watching you all make mistakes. I have made mistakes as well.” He ran his fingers back through his hair. “You and Albert and his family give me hope, Dora. Perhaps things will not change as a whole… but at least I have finally found something better than the world with which I started.”
Elias dropped his arm again—but his hand came to rest upon Dora’s, instead of simply at his side. She blinked down at the unexpected contact. Both their hands were bare, and there was something instantly intimate about the gesture as a result. Dora had rarely had occasion to compare a man’s hand to hers, but as Elias tangled their fingers, she could not help but notice how small she was compared to him. It was comforting, rather than oppressive.
Dora tightened her fingers in return. The note of gratitude in Elias’ voice made her feel off-balance. She was warm and fluttering again, and simultaneously worried that she did not quite deserve the compliment. I have found nothing of use at the workhouses so far, she thought. He will be every bit as frustrated tomorrow as he has been these last few days.
“If you give me the treatise before you leave,” Dora said suddenly. “I will translate it tomorrow.”
Elias shot her a sideways glance. “And you’ll find time for that in between the workhouses and the ball you’re slated to attend?” he asked. There was a gentle bemusement in his voice.
“I will find the time,” Dora told him confidently.
Those golden eyes focussed on her. For the second time since Dora had met him, Elias considered her so closely that she felt his gaze pierce beneath her skin.
“...I shall leave it with you, then,” he said finally.
Elias pulled his hand free of hers—and at first, Dora felt a low, empty disappointment. But shortly thereafter, he closed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently into his side.
The heat of his body soaked into her where they touched, sinking into her body with a hazy bliss. The ethereal blue lantern light flickered across Elias’ features as he looked down at Dora, but she could not fully interpret his expression. It was more peaceful than most attitudes she had seen upon his face, but there was a hint of mild confusion mixed in as well.
“Elias?” Dora asked calmly. “What are you doing?”
Elias knitted his brow. For a moment, Dora thought: he doesn’t know. But he cleared his throat quietly and looked away again. “You have no sense of the cold, do you?” he said. “I remember you saying you do not feel things normally. Your clothing is damp. You really will catch sick this way.”
Dora smiled at that. The cold really didn’t bother her... but she couldn’t have ignored his warmth, even if she had tried. She curled in closer towards Elias, leaning her cheek against his chest. There was that faint scent of myrrh again—trapped in his shirt, even perfuming his skin.
They didn’t speak again for quite some time. It didn’t feel quite necessary. Instead, Dora let her mind drift away as she listened to the steady beating of his heart.
Elias might well be a faerie, or part of one, she thought. But his heart sounds just the same as anyone else’s.
Eventually, the lantern began to flicker unsteadily, and Elias sighed in annoyance. “I should help you back before we both become interesting to look at again,” he murmured. Slowly, he released his grip on her shoulders. This time, when his heat departed, Dora thought she must have felt the cold—because the absence of him made her feel as though something crucial was missing.
Elias took her arm again and brought her back inside, up the stairs to her room. Dora found herself thinking of ways to hold him longer—topics of conversation which might seem too important to put off—but nothing came to mind. Instead, Elias released her arm and smiled in a way that suggested he’d been thinking similar thoughts.
“Goodnight, Dora,” he said softly. “Do have sweet dreams.”
Dora found it difficult to break his gaze. “And... you as well,” she said, though the words felt lame and insufficient. I am sure that I should have said something else, she thought uncertainly. That did not feel adequate. A normal person might have known what to say.
Elias waited patiently—and Dora realised belatedly that she was supposed to go into her room. She turned to slip inside, aware of his eyes on her back.
As Dora burrowed underneath the covers of her bed, she closed her eyes and tried to think of sweet things to dream about. Strangely, her mind supplied only the warmth of Elias’ hand and the sweet smell of myrrh.
Chapter 12
Whatever had been told to Lady Hayworth regarding the hour of their return, they did not actually head back to Hayworth House the moment that they woke up. Instead, Lady Carroway insisted on having them downstairs for breakfast, where they lingered quite some time. Given the informal breakfast seating, perhaps it should not have surprised that Albert’s brother Edward had found his way over towards Vanessa—but this effectively blocked Dora from any substantial conversation with her cousin. She searched surreptitiously for Elias instead, but to her disappointment, he was nowhere to be found at all.
Albert had the treatise out before him, however, which suggested that Elias had already left. He was currently scribbling notes on a separate bit of parchment nearby while he took his coffee. To Dora’s surprise, Miss Jennings had settled herself next to Albert; the two of them occasionally spoke pleasantly to one another while
