Page 30 of Tales of a Society Nothing

But she hadn’t changed and, it appeared, neither had he.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, pulling back. He held her hands a little too long, staring into her eyes. She let him see the emotion there—the love, the regret, the determination. Then she pulled her hands free, turned, and walked away.

***

AMBROSE HADN’T FOUNDMaggie at the safe house. He hadn’t expected to. He slumped against the door of the dining room and closed his eyes, listening to the silence of the house around him. Ambrose knew if he went to the chamber where Maggie had slept last night, he’d find it clean and orderly with no trace of her remaining. He’d been through her leaving him before.

He shouldn’t have told her not to go to Seven Dials alone. Ridiculous to give her such an order when he knew she wouldn’t follow it and when she’d been navigating Seven Dials and all its accompanying dangers for days. She had been the one taking care of him, not the other way round.

But old habits died hard. He still wanted to protect her, even when it was clear she didn’t need his protection. Hell, at Vanderville’s town house, she had been the one to save him.

And then they’d saved each other.

She’d been trained well, and she deserved to be a member of the Royal Saboteurs. Why couldn’t he see her as more than his wife? Why had he tried to force her into the role of hostess and Society matron when it had been clear since the first day they ever met that wasn’t what she wanted or where her true strengths lay?

She wasn’t the wife he’d thought he needed, and he wanted to appreciate the woman she’d become. He wanted to treat her as an equal—a partner, a fellow agent. That’s all she’d asked for.

But old habits died hard.

Ambrose fisted his hands and opened his eyes.

The hell they did. He wasn’t some stone relic who couldn’t be changed. Maggie had changed. She’d become one hell of an agent. Why couldn’t he change too? He could change. Hehadchanged. He would lose her again if he didn’t. She wouldn’t give him a third chance. It was now or never.

He turned on his heel and grabbed his coat from the rack. A servant immediately appeared. “My lord, may I be of assistance?”

“Not unless you can grovel for me.”

“My lord?”

“I have to go to Seven Dials.”

“Shall I call for the coach?”

“No time.” Ambrose pulled the door open and ran down the steps and into the steady rain. He’d forgotten his hat, but he didn’t have time to go back. He might already be too late. Panic at the thought of losing her welled up in his chest, making his lungs constrict and his throat close.

He couldn’t lose her again. The first time she’d left, he’d been angry. She’d hurt his heart and also his pride. He’d wanted to sulk and throw vases and curse her name.

Now it was his own name he cursed. Those years without her had dragged on, empty and meaningless. He hadn’t even realized how empty or meaningless until she’d walked into his flat in Seven Dials. The dingy room had filled with life and color, and every moment with her felt too short. Every step he took now, trying to reach her, felt like an eternity.

Ambrose ran faster, brushing past men and women, and calling apologies for jostling them over his shoulder. Elbowing the wrong man in Seven Dials could cost him, but he didn’t slow until he reached the building where his flat was housed. He slammed open the door and stared at a little girl sitting beside a door. Her cat blinked at him, back arched and fur on end.

“Sorry,” he said.

She took a bite of bread. “Ye looking for the lady?”

“Is she here?”

“Wot’s it to ye?”

Ambrose blew out a breath. He could run up the stairs himself and see—once he caught his breath again. But this must be the child Maggie had come to care for. So he tossed her a half crown. “For your trouble,” he said.

The girl caught the coin with a neat flourish then opened her fist and stared at it. Her eyes went wide then, quick as you like, the coin disappeared. “She went upstairs. She ‘asn’t come back down yet.”

“Thank you.”

Though his legs burned, and his knife wound felt as though it were burning into his ribs and the tender organs beneath, he climbed the steps and crashed through the door. He saw Maggie immediately. She’d been at the window. She whirled around and pointed a pistol at him.

Hispistol.

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