by Jen Yates
If Lou were to die—Levi couldn’t think past those few terrible words.
If Lou were to die—fuck, he couldn’t breathe—
He stared up at the man who’d taken on the persona of an ogre in his young life, a man who’d appeared darkly stern, unbending, and to Levi’s young eyes, uncaring. He would not have believed Lord Henry could feel tenderness, let alone show it. There were probably many things he’d not seen or understood, as a child.
‘Lou can’t die. I won’t let her,’ he whispered hoarsely.
A muscle twitched in the earl’s cheek and a tear escaped his eye as he stared solemnly back at Levi.
‘That’s in God’s hands,’ he said at last. ‘And I’m sorry, I understand how hard this is for you, but you have to leave now. You cannot be found here. But think on what I said. If she survives this, it could be made to look as if she didn’t—and you would then have to move quickly.’
‘She has to survive it—’
‘Would you do it? Take her away—if you could? Never come back?’
‘In a heartbeat,’ Levi answered.
Lord Henry simply gave an oddly fatalistic little nod and unlatched the French window.
Coming stiffly to his feet Levi pressed his lips to Lou’s feverish brow, and with dragging feet and humble prayers left Stannesford Hall.
By the time he reached the back door of the stables, Levi knew his life had just been set to a right-about that would not be reversed.
Whether his Lou lived or died, he’d leave Stannesford.
If she died there’d be nothing here for him, but bitterly painful memories.
And if she lived—please God she lived—they’d have to find some far-flung corner of the world where they could be together.
Somewhere no one knew them.
***
‘Wake up, my lady. Come on.’
That was Goldie’s voice.
Try as she might, Liberty’s eyes didn't want to open. She’d been drifting in a dream world—and no idea how long. It felt like forever. God, she was tired.
‘Lou, wake up, sweetheart. You want to come with me, don't you?’
Levi? Now she knew she was dreaming—and if he was in her dream that's where she wanted to stay.
‘Wake up, Lou.’
Levi. His hands. She'd know his touch over any others—anywhere. If she could just force her eyes open.
He was shaking her.
‘Wake up, Lou.’
There was urgency in his voice. How could Levi be here? What if Papa—? It had to be a dream, a cruel dream.
Her eyelids finally cracked open and she looked up into Levi's midnight blue eyes, filled with love and concern and something suspiciously like that glitter she recognized as Levi planning mischief.
Oh God, if only they could have an adventure together as they had as children, hiding in the old oak tree, swimming naked in the lake—
His head lowered and his lips settled softly on hers.
Warm. Real. He felt real.
‘Levi? What—?’
‘Up you come, Lou. We've got to get you dressed and out of here before someone sees you and thinks you've come back to haunt them—or that you aren't dead. All would be for naught then.’
She must be dreaming. This was the weirdest conversation she’d ever head with Levi.
‘What are you talking about? What are you doing here?’
‘I've been here every night for the last week, Lou. You've been very ill. But there's no time for talk now. Do you trust me, love?’
That was easy to answer. Liberty gazed up into the deep blue orbs, ringed with shadows of exhaustion.
‘Always,’ she murmured, and he cut her off before she could ask why.
He looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks.
‘Then let Goldie get you dressed. Time is important. We’ll talk once we're on our way. I promise.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘On one of our adventures, sweetheart. You love it when we sneak away, just the two of us. You know you do.’
His hands were insistent, and Goldie was fluttering. In the end it was simpler to just concentrate on staying upright while they dressed her.
They’d just wrapped her in her warmest, oldest hooded cloak when the door opened and Papa ushered in Mama, Nanette, and Charity.
Papa! She was just starting to believe Levi would succeed in stealing her away.
Had decided not to argue, not to even think.
Just believe in the impossible dream of an adventure with Levi.
Impossible. She should have remembered that bit.
‘Papa!’
At the sight of his dark intransigency she forgot about staying upright, about believing in the dream. She should know by now such dreams were not for her.
‘Is she ready?’ her father asked, his voice quiet, even gentle.
She was surely not awake after all. It was a long time since Papa had looked at her with love—or anything approaching gentleness.
‘Hold onto me, Lou,’ Levi said, his breath warm by her ear and his arm firm about her waist. ‘Yes, she's ready, my Lord.’
Then she was in her mother's arms and Helena was crying convulsively, her cheek wet against Liberty’s.
‘We love you, Libby, and just want you to be happy and this seems to be the only way. Please be happy. And we—will be happy for you.’
When Mama took off the gold St. Christopher medal she'd worn as long as Liberty could remember and fastened it about her daughter's neck Liberty felt the unreality of the moment intensify.
‘My Mama gave me this when I came to England in search of a husband. She said it would keep me safe. And it has. I pray it does the same for you, Libby. America is a land of immense opportunity. You can make a good life there—’
‘America? What do you mean, Mama?’
Helena's watery gaze flew from Liberty to Levi—to Papa.
‘She doesn't know our plans yet,’ Levi said gruffly. ‘We've been struggling to get her conscious.’
Liberty felt confusion steal back over her senses and wished she could just close her eyes, segue back into the dream world where everything was simpler, explainable—
Then Papa stole the rest of her wits by moving in and hugging her close, enveloping her in his familiar scent of bergamot and cinnamon and the warm earthy scent of the conservatory where he spent a lot of his time.
‘Have a good life,’ he said gruffly, then returned her to Levi's waiting support.
In the flurry of more hugs from old Nanette and Charity, Liberty only vaguely noted Papa handing Levi a bulging leather pouch and saying, ‘Now you have what you both wanted. Use it wisely.’
‘Thank you, my Lord. We will.’
Levi and Papa speaking almost cordially to one another?
And—was that a coffin in the window nook?
This was definitely a bizarre dream.
***
‘Dead?’
She was still dreaming then, wasn't really wrapped in blankets while fleeing in a coach with Levi. It was a glorious dream where she was snuggled close in Levi’s arms, the scent of him all around her, the sound of his voice wrapping her in solace and security, love and eternity.
If only they could have eternity—
That could only ever be a dream.
‘Do you understand, Lou? We can never go back. You died tonight—as far as the world is concerned—and our families.’
She pinched herself—and then him.
‘I don't feel dead—and you don't feel like a dream.’
‘Of course, you're not really dead, sweetheart. But it was the only way to prevent the scandal. The babe, our babe, couldn't possibly be Justin’s—and when you almost died, your Papa came up with this solution. He does love you, Lou, whatever you may think and has done all in his power to assist us into a new life. We have each other for the rest of our lives, just as we’ve always wanted—but we can never again live life as we know it. It's gone. Left behind utterly and co
mpletely. For better or for worse you’re now my wife in the eyes of the world. Mrs. Levi Longfellow. We’re no longer playing make-believe in the lightning tree. I’m taking you on a ship to the other side of the world and we’ll make a new life there. Lord Thomas Wolfenden talked of the beautiful horse country inland from Philadelphia in America and he’s given me an introduction to his brother. At the least, I can get work there, but I'm thinking more along the lines of owning my own stud.’
‘That’s a very big dream,’ Liberty said, still struggling to accept everything Levi was saying as reality, and that she wouldn't just wake up and find herself once again in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets.
‘We’re not without resources, Lou. I sold my stud stock to young Lord Bennett Adderley up at Highbrooke. Philip bought the stables and the working stock. He couldn't afford to pay the full price. Your father made up the difference and added what he called a dowry for you. It's Stannesford's way of making sure I can take care of you. He might not be happy with this outcome, but he’s done all in his power to ensure we won’t fail.’
‘I didn't say goodbye to Verity. I need to write to her.’
‘You died tonight, Lou. At least, that's how your Papa intends it shall appear. He plans to have a funeral and everything. One doesn't usually get a chance to say goodbye when one dies. Your father thought Verity too young to be saddled with such an onerous secret.’
‘No one asked me if I wanted to die.’
‘Your papa says he did.’
‘He did not!’
But vaguely she recalled a conversation and it seemed like eons ago, when she told him she carried Levi's child.
‘You shall have what you've always wanted, Liberty, but you shall be as dead to us, and all the world,’ he’d said.
He hadn't asked as such, and she'd not even tried to argue with his unassailing ordering of events.
Because she'd known it was pointless?
Or because a deeply secret part of her had decided to grasp the golden ring and hang on for dear life?
As if he’d plucked the nebulous thought-form from her mind, Levi delved into an inner coat pocket and produced, not one but two, gold wedding bands. The larger one he slipped on his ring finger.
‘Give me your hand, Lou.’
‘Where—did you get those, Levi?’
They’d left Justin’s rings behind. A dead person didn’t take jewelry with them. Her finger felt naked—and she felt free.
Free to be with Levi. The impossible just kept happening. She was bound to wake up soon and find it all a cruel joke.
‘Mama gave them to me. She said they were old family rings and would be her gift to us. Mine fits perfectly. Let’s see if yours does.’
Liberty held out her hand and then giggled helplessly as he dropped to his knee in the cramped carriage, took her fingers in his and said, ‘With this ring I thee wed.’
He pushed it gently to the base of her finger and gave it a jiggle.
‘It’s a wee bit loose, but not a bad fit. And it tells the world you belong to me. Finally.’
Returning to the seat at her side, he folded her in his arms, tucked her head into his shoulder and pressed his lips fervently to her forehead.
‘I love you, Lou.’
‘Love you,’ she breathed softly and drifted back into the dream world where miracles really did happen.
***
Lord, she was tired. Was she still dreaming?
Levi felt so warm and solid that she could almost convince herself it was really happening. They were going on an adventure together—like they—used to—
‘Wake up, Lou. We'll be stopping soon.’
‘Levi? You’re—real?’
His every day chuckle was soft and deep and reverberated against her hand that lay against his chest.
Real.
She dared to breathe—though that hurt somewhat—deep in her lungs.
Levi was real. She was awake and he hadn't dissipated into dreamscape, but she still felt disconnected, not fully present in her mind, or even in her body.
‘I'm real, Lou. How do you feel?’
‘Strange. I don't know. Where are we?’
This couldn’t be real. She was alone with Levi. They were moving. As if—they were in a carriage.
Why couldn’t she seem to order her thoughts?
Her head felt as if it were stuffed with straw. With here and there a perfect white clover—think of me—blue myosotis—forget-me-not—or twist of ivy—eternal fidelity—if she could just clear the clutter she’d find those precious tokens of Levi’s enduring love for her.
‘Levi?’
‘I’m here love and I will never leave you again. We’ll shortly arrive at the Kingswell Hotel in Didcot. We’re expected—and you must not take your cloak off. You’re ill and urgently need your bed. It was a risk we took, moving you the moment the fever broke—but you couldn't be seen after you were known to have died.’
‘D—died? I’m in heaven then? And this is a dream?’
He’d said something like that before. But it was hard to know which was fantasy and which reality.
Pain sliced through her heart and outward to every extremity of her body. Her fingers clutched at the solidity of Levi’s chest.
Surely those arms enclosing her were real?
Were they not to have a life together? How could he be with her if she was dead?
‘Heaven for sure, my love. But it’s not a dream.’
‘We’re really going away—together?’
‘We are, Lou.’
Something didn’t make sense but the straw in her head muddled her thought processes.
‘What—what will happen to Justin? I—I didn't say goodbye to him—’
‘He came to see you when you were unconscious. I spoke to him. He gives you his blessing. And a large sum of money. He showed me a note he wrote for you. I will give it to you when you are better. He says thank you for trying to love him, for trying to be a dutiful wife. He asks only that you'll be happy—and remember him with fondness.’
‘Oh God,’ Liberty whispered, her throat clogging painfully. ‘Who will care for him?’
‘Charity.’
‘Char? Oh no! She’ll hate me!’
Silly weak tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked into Levi’s coat.
A gentle accord had grown between her and her sister over the last weeks caring for Justin. Resentment was sure to set in and Charity would become bitter towards her.
‘She seemed amenable—’
‘She was very helpful to me with Justin, but—I doubt she ever imagined taking on full responsibility for his care—while I follow my dreams and run away with you. Is—is that what I’m doing, Levi? Running away?’
His gaze was solemn in the dimness of the carriage.
‘We have kept the taint of scandal from your family—from your sisters, so they will have a future.’
‘But—but Justin gets a little better every day. He could go on like that for years—and Char—I know her, Levi, she’ll sacrifice herself to duty, because that's what she does—and she’ll hate me for every minute of it. Just when—we were finding each other.’
When she’d dreamed of a life with Levi, it had never been at the expense of the happiness of others. Her whole body trembled with what felt like a kind of panic.
Charity. Justin. Oh God.
Levi rocked her against his body and pressed his lips to her forehead.
‘Hush, my love. T’is done. There’s no going back and this is the best for everyone. We can only take this chance we've been granted and make the most of it. Now cover your hair. It's rather distinctive and we don't want anyone being able to remember you arrived late at night in slightly havey-cavey circumstances. And rest. Sleep if you can. You’ve been terribly ill.’
Ill? Perhaps that explained the straw in her head.
‘Who’s driving the carriage?’
‘Phil. He’ll leave us at Didcot and return to Stannesford with no one the
wiser. This is the carriage we hire out from the stables. It has no markings on it and will not excite comment even if someone does note it and recognize it. Nevertheless, Phil will have it back in the stables before daylight.’
Levi. Taking charge of their mischief. He was warm and strong. And trustworthy.
So she would trust—
***
He could feel confusion and reservation in every trembling line of her body as she leaned into him. So much had been decided and actioned while she'd poised on the knife edge of life and death.
Was he any better than Lord Henry in making decisions for her, taking choices from her?
His Lou was so unbelievably fragile in every way. How long had he dreamed of the day he could just steal her away, claim her as his?
Had he risked too much? Lou’s health—physical and mental?
Moving her before she had a chance to even begin to recuperate had been a terrible risk—but one that had to be taken. He could only hope and pray her inner strength would be enough to pull her through. What worried him more was how she’d react when she fully realized the finality of their leaving Stannesford—of being dead, as it were.
Mrs. Levi Longfellow. They might not have the benefit of legal marriage, but in their new life no one need know that but them.
His arms convulsed about her.
As so often happened, reality was a far cry from the dream. She was here in his arms. His, to have, to hold, to care for and he’d do whatever was required, be whatever she needed him to be.
This woman he finally held close was a long way from the mischievous sprite who'd been his partner in so many youthful adventures. Life had been unfair to her and he’d do all in his power to make it up to her. He couldn't go back and give her the choice to leave everything and everyone she loved behind and run away with him, but he could give her choices going forward.
The rattle of cobbles beneath the wheels warned they were approaching the inn at Didcot. God, he loved her. Just being able to hold her—all through the night—
The carriage halted and Levi felt his throat close with a burning intensity that almost felt like tears—a strange mix of excitement, regret, loss—and gain.