Except he wouldn’t’ve truly chosen it. He’d have given up everything because she needed him to. Again.
And, just as he’d been forcibly separated from his mother when he was a boy, he’d be forced to sever ties with his uncle, the only connection he had to the mother he still mourned.
Why was it life rarely offered anything but terrible choices?
She tucked some loose hair behind her ear. He’d almost certainly be telling his uncle she was his wife. The only people they were keeping this marriage a secret from were her family. Baz’s newly discovered family were welcome to know. That’d make pretending she were a newfound love down the road impossible without cutting his uncle out of his life.
She could hear their voices in the entryway, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She swallowed the lump of worry building in her throat, telling her heart to slow down. There was an answer to all this somewhere. There had to be.
Baz entered the room first, a broad smile on his face. “Gemma, I’d like you to meet Mr. Snelling.” He stepped to the side, allowing his uncle to enter.
Gemma froze. Ice wrapped around her heart and lungs.
Mr. Snelling was not Baz’s uncle. He washers.
“Uncle Arlo.” The name pulled painfully from her. She took aninvoluntary step backward, searching for a means of escape he weren’t already blocking.
A sinister smile spread across his despised face. He sauntered closer, leaving Barnabus behind him and unable to see the look he was giving her. He did not, however, lower his voice when he spoke. “I wondered how long it’d take you to show your face here, Gemma girl. You cain’t run from this family. We’ll always sniff you out.”
Gemma didn’t hesitate. Silas was more dangerous, but Arlo was no one to be trifled with. She reached for the window next to her, threw it open, and scrambled out. Her feet hit the soft soil, and, without a moment’s pause, she ran for her life.
Gemma had practically jumped out the window, and Mr. Snelling had followed her. It all happened in an instant, and Barnabus’s mind hadn’t time to catch up.
Uncle Arlo.Gemma’s strangled declaration echoed in his mind. His “uncle” washeruncle. He’d tracked her to Barnabus and used him to pull her out of hiding.
Barnabus flew out the door, being closer to it than the window. He had to catch the imposter and help Gemma get away. There was no sign of either of them. He could hear no footfalls and saw no shadows lurking about. He didn’t even know which direction they had gone. How could he find her if he didn’t know which way to go?
The Donnellys, maybe? No. She wouldn’t risk leading her family to them, especially with Mr. Sorokin and the children there.
Gemma knew people in Southwark, but that was her family’s stronghold. She wouldn’t go there. Not being a member of the Dread Penny Society, she wasn’t aware of the existence of their headquarters. She knew Barnabus had safe houses aroundLondon, but as far as he knew, she didn’t know how to find any of them.
She had nowhere to go and therefore could be anywhere.
He refused to believe Arlo Kincaid had caught her.
Barnabus could hardly scour London on his own. He needed help, and he knew where to find it. He made his way directly to Fletcher Walker’s flat. It was early enough yet that the man wouldn’t be asleep, but he couldn’t guarantee Fletcher would even be at home; he called on Elizabeth almost every evening. If Barnabus didn’t find him at home, he would go to Elizabeth’s school and ask for him there.
He hopped out of the hired hackney and rushed to the door. His frantic knock, bless the heavens, was answered quickly by Fletcher himself.
“We have a problem,” Barnabus said, pushing his way into the dim entryway. “The man I told you was probably my uncle came by tonight to meet Gemma.”
Fletcher watched him closely and silently. He must’ve sensed Barnabus had not come on a small thing.
“Except, turns out he ain’tmyuncle; he’shers.She caught sight of him and climbed out the window and ran like the blazes, with him right behind. I wasn’t fast enough to catch them. She’s gone, and I don’t know where.”
Fletcher’s brows pulled together in concentration. “So his story about being your uncle was a ruse?”
Barnabus was inwardly kicking himself. “It was. And I swallowed the entire thing without even thinking.”
“You can chew your leg over that later. We need to find her.”
Barnabus nodded. “I need more eyes than just mine.”
“You’ll hate this, but it’d be best if you return home in case she doubles back. And we need to know where you are so we can get you word of anything we sort out.”
He was going to be left out of the search? “No. I cain’t sit there knowing she’s in trouble and not doing a blasted thing.”
“Youwillbe doing a blasted thing. Your house is the one place she might come back to. But there’s every possibility your false uncle will as well. I’ll have someone watching your place. You make sure you’re always armed. And, maybe, don’t see patients for a while.”