Page 100 of The Last Chance
Trust all will be well.
Joanna’s earlier comment drifted into his mind.
All is well, he said silently, surprised three simple words had the power to calm his restless spirit. Not knowing the strength of the opium tincture, Aaron sipped an average dose equivalent to ten drops. The solution tasted bitter and needed time to travel through his bloodstream.
“What now?” he said. The road ahead was an uncertain path.
Mrs Lowry moved to alight. “I’ll walk Lucia back to the house, then escort you to where the boat is moored. The skipper will take things from there. What happens afterwards, I cannot say. The only saving grace is Natasha needs Lucia alive.”
Mrs Lowry climbed down from the coach, but Lucia paused in the doorway. “I always dreamed of making you proud. That I would be a famed opera singer and you would attend my performances. I’m sorry if I have been a disappointment.”
Aaron knew that guilt was a leaden anchor dragging you down.
He touched his sister’s arm. Something told him everything she’d said was true. “I hear you have the voice of an angel. Let’s pray I live to see you sing an aria for the King.”
Lucia smiled. “I imagine your mother would have said something just as kind. You have inherited her good heart.” And with that naive comment, she alighted.
It hurt to look at Joanna.
Distress lived in every line on her brow.
“Aaron, I wish we were back in Aldgate, and you were dragging drunken louts from my door. I wouldn’t care if you were rude. I would smile and thank you for being a gentleman.”
“I was rude so I might save myself from feeling the pain I do now,” he confessed. “You’re strong enough to overcome whatever happens tonight. Your club will be a huge success. Women are breaking free from their shackles and seeking their own identity. When it comes to matchmaking, trust Daventry’s advice. There’s no man wiser.”
“I would sacrifice it all to spend my life loving you.”
He cupped her cheek. “You’d be afraid of the man you saw fighting in the pits. He’s vicious when there’s nothing to keep his temper in check. If I don’t return, at least I’ll know your last thoughts of me were favourable.”
She clutched her abdomen. “I feel sick with worry.”
“All will be well.” He sounded too relaxed, which wasprobably a consequence of the opium taking effect. “Kiss me. But not like this is goodbye.”
She kissed him like she wanted to tear off his clothes and straddle him on the coach seat. Their lips collided with fierce intensity, their breath mingling as he gripped her waist, pulling her closer. She touched him, her hands moving so rapidly it made him dizzy. Again, it must be the opium.
“I love you,” he uttered, his head growing heavy.
“I love you,” she said as Mrs Lowry returned to escort him to the boat. Panicked, Joanna turned on the woman. “Make sure he reaches the boat and doesn’t end up in the river. If you’ve lied tonight and he dies, I’ll not rest until I find you. You’ll wish to God you’d killed me.”
The tremor in Joanna’s hands mirrored the pounding of her heart. The pain in her throat was like fingers crushing her windpipe. She could hardly see from crying but gripped the seat as the coach lurched forward and picked up speed.
She wanted to die.
She wanted to curl into a ball and sleep through the immeasurable pain. But there was a chance she could save Aaron, a chance he would survive. Somehow, she had to find the strength to help him.
As the coach rattled over Westminster Bridge, she pressed her face to the window, scouring the inky blackness for Natasha’s boat. The odd lit lanterns hanging aboard the barges on the Thames cast shadows across the water, but the man she loved was lost amid the gloom.
The coach jolted suddenly, the jarvey cursing as he brought the vehicle to a crashing halt. Prepared to fight one of Natasha’sthugs, Joanna was surprised when Lucia opened the door and clambered inside.
The poor girl’s cheeks were flushed, and she was panting so hard she struggled to speak. “Have the jarvey drive on,” she said, her expression strained as she clutched her chest. “Hurry.”
Joanna called to the jarvey, instructing him to drive like the devil was at his heels. Then she faced Lucia. “Has something happened? Is it Mr Chance?”
Please don’t say he’s dead.
“No, but you need me to speak to the magistrate. I can tell him you’re both innocent, and I must be as brave as my brother.” Lucia’s eyelids flickered. “The opium, it is making my muscles relax but I may be of some help.”
Joanna clung to the overhead strap as the vehicle raced through the dim streets. Lucia fell into a haze, drifting somewhere between sleep and blissful ignorance. A carefree place where her problems slipped away like mist in a morning sun.
