“Let’s at least talk this through before we abandon it,” he said. “What else would we need?”
She took a slow breath. “There has to be a jemmy bar in the casket with each of us so we can pry open the lids. That, of course, only works if Dominique alters the coffins and whoever nails the lid shut uses the right kind of nails.”
“We’d each pry open our coffins?” he asked.
She nodded. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to resurrect from the inside. I’ll likely be a bit faster than you and can help if you’re not out yet. But we have to be fast. We cain’t just hop out and leave the coffins open. We have to weight ’em, so thepallbearers’ll be seen having to work at carrying their load. The lids have to be nailed back down, and they cain’t show any damage.”
So many bits and pieces. So many chances for failure.
Baz kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck beneath her ear. “I believe in you, Gemma,” he whispered. “We can do this.”
“You’ll keep your arm around me while I sort through this?” she asked.
“With pleasure, love.”
And he did exactly that. He kept his arm about her waist or rubbed circles on her back with his hand. At one point, he fetched a bit of tea, but he gave her a quick kiss before he left, and he returned his arm to its place of comfort upon returning. And with his strength buoying her, she created her list, her instructions, her only hope for saving them all.
Chapter 28
Gemma stood a bit to the side of the table in the safe house, biting her thumbnail as she watched Fletcher and Stone read over her plans. There were so many things that could go wrong, she knew her mind wouldn’t rest easy about any of it unless someone else thought it could work.
“Every hearse I’ve ever seen had windows on either side,” Fletcher said. “Glass is devilish bad at hiding things.”
“We’d a damber bloke who drove the hearses when we did a spot of coffin fishing inside. He’d make certain the funeral flowers were placed against the windows.” She emptied the air from her tight lungs. “Worked well enough.”
“Two caskets, a heap of flowers, the two of you breaking your way out of coffins without leaving a mark, and then hiding elsewhere in the hearse.” Fletcher said. “Is there room enough?”
“It’ll be tight as teeth,” she admitted.
“Making it even more likely that your uncles won’t suspect what you’re doing,” Stone said.
They were gabbing over important problems.A lotof them. It ought to’ve reassured her. It didn’t.
Baz came and stood beside her. “They are a couple of the cleverest people I know,” he said. “Their minds spinning on this alongside yours will see this sorted.”
She shook her head. Seemed that was about all she did lately. “So much could go wrong.”
“I know it’s risky,” he said. “But it’s a chance we have to take.”
“I’ve had time and plenty to think on what it’ll mean to be‘dead.’ This was tossed at you like hail in a storm. You’ll suffer for it.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Once we get on the other side of this, it will be worth it.”
“I hope so.” But as time passed and he weren’t able to do his doctoring or watch over his safe houses and continue his rescues, “the other side of this” might start to feel like a burden.Shemight start to feel like a burden.
“I know that expression, Gemma,” he whispered. “And I know what you’re worrying about. I won’t resent or regret this. Being together is what I want, not what I’m being forced to accept.”
“You’d not need to accept it if not for—” She tried so hard not to think about the reasons he’d married her three and a half years earlier. No matter what he might feel now, there was no escaping the fact that he had been forced into connecting himself with her.
“We can hold a wake for the two of you at your house,” Fletcher said. “There’ll be mourners, obviously, but we cannot risk any of them knowing that you’re alive if they don’t absolutely have to know. Secrets don’t keep well when held by too many people.”
Gemma nodded. “People being seen grieving over the two of us in open caskets will show my uncles and the Mastiff that we really are dead.”
“The open caskets do give us spot of trouble,” Stone said. “They have to be open so you’ll be seen in them. But no one’ll believe you’re dead if they can see you breathing. Neither of you can hold your breath through the entire wake.”
Gemma lowered her brow. She was so tired, so overwhelmed. “The best we can do is breathe as shallow as possible.”
“Even shallow breaths raise the rib cage,” Baz said. Hearing his uncertainty chipped away at hers.