Chapter 22
By the time Móirín returned from the CALL effort, Licorice was asleep, with Vera and Mr. Sorokin keeping watch in her room. Brogan was sitting with Olly, reading the boy one of Fletcher’s penny dreadfuls. Móirín didn’t linger but made her way to her own room. The house was calm and peaceful, and Barnabus had done all the things that he alone could do. He stood in the entryway, packing his doctoring bag once more, recounting in his mind any additional instructions he might want to give the Donnellys and Mr. Sorokin.
“Baz?”
He looked up. Gemma stood beside him, watching him uncertainly.
“Could I beg a favor?” she asked.
“No need to beg. You need only ask.”
A quick smile flitted over her tired face. “Licorice is comfortably settled and resting. I’d not want to see her tossed off. And the Donnellys have three more houseguests now than they did this morning. The house’ll be crowded, and the larder stretched thin.”
Barnabus took slow breaths, waiting and hoping she was about to “beg the favor” he hoped for but not wanting to push her toward it.
“Furthermore, my family’s searching for me, and the man they work for is searching for Mr. Sorokin and the children. All of us bein’ here is a risk.” She took a quick breath. “Does your offer still stand for me to return to Finsbury?”
His heart flipped over in his chest, and he didn’t bother holding back his smile. “Always, Gemma. Not a moment goes by when I don’t wish you were there.”
“Truly?”
He’d told her before he wanted her at home and longed for her company. Clearly he needed to do a better job of showing her that. “I like the way your voice fills the house when you sing. I like having supper with you at night, talking about our days. I like that you make me laugh every day. The house is different with you there, in the best way.”
Her eyes dropped. “Having me there’d be dangerous.”
Barnabus cupped her cheek with his hand, bringing her eyes back up to his. “What will it take, Gemma, to convince you that no amount of danger will ever be enough for me to not want you with me?”
“If anything happened to you, Baz, I’d never forgive myself,” she whispered.
“And if I didn’t do all I could to convince you to stay,Iwould never forgivemyself.”
A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. “You truly like having me around?”
“I didn’t realize how much until you were back in my life.” He slipped his hand behind her neck and down her back, settling it at her waist. “Everything is better when you’re here, Gemma. Everything.”
She set her hand on his chest, her fingers fussing with his lapel. “Do you swear you’ll be very careful while I’m there? Not take any extra risks?”
He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “I promise you.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “And I’ll leave off working at Madame Tussaud’s. Then no one’ll follow me back to Finsbury. That’ll keep the both of us safer.”
He embraced her in return. “You could help look after patients.I could use the extra help. It’d also give you a chance to get to know Mrs. Simms better.”
“I’d like that.”
Having her in his arms like she was, hearing her talk so easily of coming home, Barnabus couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought he could live without her. This was what he’d longed for these past three years. This was what he’d missed and mourned.
“Maybe you could teach me to waltz again,” she said.
“Have you forgotten?”
“No. I just fancy dancing with you.”
Looking past her shoulder, he spied Móirín watching them from the top of the stairs. Barnabus did not intend to let her ruin this rather perfect moment by teasing either of them.
To Gemma, he said, “Gather up your things. We’ll head home as soon as you’re ready.”
She stepped back and out of his arms, offering a smile before hurrying up the stairs.