Page 110 of The Girl Out of Time
Theo had few memories of his younger years, but the one of Wescott’s arrival was still as clear as on the day it was formed. A stranger with an unusual accent and fancy clothes, arguing with Uncle Gustave. For hours, they sat behind the uneven dining table, the level of liquid in Uncle’s bottle lowering each time Theo sneaked a peek through the door. Voices rose and fell, and finally, they shook hands.
Theo was called in, and the stranger loomed above him as he said to Uncle Gustave on the side, “He doesn’t look anything like her.”
“No, sir. He takes after his father,” Uncle responded.
The stranger huffed. “We can amend that.”
“So I stayed on the farm,” Theo said to Emmeline. “Wescott sent money and tutors and anything we needed for my education. What he considered my education should be.”
“Fencing?” A tiny smile passed her lips.
“An appropriate hobby for a gentleman.”
She reached a hand to her forehead. “I can’t believe it. It’s outlandish, to go to such lengths …”
“That’s Wescott.”
“You don’t like him?”
“He took care of me. Uncle Gustave’s family, too, through me. He made me who I am. I don’t need to like him, but I still owe him.”
“And Lady Cassiopeia?”
“She’s my cousin, and I’m glad to have more family and know someone on my mother’s side. She might appear cold, but she’s really rather pleasant.”
“I see.” Emmeline looked to the side. “And when would you have told me she’s also your bride-to-be?”
He swallowed. “I know what I did—the kiss in the museum—everything else—it was wrong—”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not because of you.” He gently turned her face to his. “Because of me. It was unfair to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you. You have to know, back in Dorset …” He gently rubbed her cheek. “You made my life a fantasy. You made me think, even for a short while, that I could be someone else. Not Wescott’s puppet, not a man he bought to use as he wishes. It was a fool’s dream, but it was a lovely dream, nonetheless. I didn’t want it to end until it was too late.”
Her lips trembled, and her eyelashes glistened from the tears caught on them. But then she shook off his hand and stood. “I’ve heard enough. I believe I might want to lie down for the evening. Enjoy your engagement dinner, Theo, or Leon, or whoever you are.”
“Leon Theodore Royer,” he said. “Mother wanted me to have my father’s name. Uncle Gustave found it … too painful, perhaps, so my nickname stuck instead.”
She shrugged. “Good, I guess.” And she left the conservatory, disappearing like a shadow into the night.
Theo remained sitting, staring into nothingness, until he finally remembered to check his pocket watch—only to realize he didn’t know what time it had been when he’d left Wescott. Either way, he’d surely overstepped his allotted ten minutes.
And he was nothing if not his uncle’s obedient servant.
So he stood up, squared his shoulders, and went to play his role.
Chapter 27
Emmeline spent the next week going through the stages of grief.
She spent Sunday in bed, crying into a pillow. Luckily, Sebastian left her alone once he realized she wasn’t up for a consolatory talk, but she was grateful he kept sending tea upstairs.
She spent Monday pacing the house until she knew the dimensions of every room, clenching her fists and practicing the lecture she’d give Theo. She’d ask him why he was such a coward, why he had to follow some misplaced sense of duty, and why he gave her hope to begin with.
She spent Tuesday regretting the imaginary quarrels of the previous day and realizing Theo had never made her any promises. In fact, every time he came close to one, he pulled back, and now it made sense. He was not a coward; he only did what he was supposed to do. She told so to Louisa, who came to visit her that day, and assured her no vengeance upon Theo should be taken, so she hoped her friend wouldn’t plant herself on Wescott’s doorstep and challenge his precious heir to a duel.
She spent Wednesday pulling herself back together and going out to find the last clue. It was easy enough—a short search around Westminster—but it wasn’t the same without Theo. She had no one to discuss the riddle with, to theorize, to support her in some ridiculous scheme to gain possession of the pouch and to celebrate the victory. Her treasure hunt had ended without fanfare.
She spent Thursday working on the clue. She spread all the lettered tiles on the coffee table in the sitting room. When Sebastian came by, she didn’t tell him about Lady Scarlet but claimed it was simply a game—she had to put together an address in London. Sebastian happily threw away his plans to meet with his friends for cards at Boodle’s and instead dove into the puzzle. For hours, they scoured the map and switched around tiles, convinced the address must be on a square due to SQU being written on one tile, until, late into the afternoon, Emmeline shifted around some letters, and the solution fell into place.
