She rubbed her eyes as if she’d just woken. “Wait”—she combed her hair with her fingers and started pinning it up—“you said we are going to get away.”

Jaw knotted, he stuffed her coat and breeches into the duffle, gaze far too intent on such simple work—he didn’t want to meet her eye. “I did.”

“But if you leave with me now, you’ll be—”

“I know.” His chest rose and fell in a long breath. He tucked a shawl around her shoulders, then a thick winter cloak. It took him much longer than necessary to tie the cloak’s cord before he finally made eye contact. “I’ll be absent without leave. I’ll—”

“Your career will be over. You’ll be a fugitive from—”

“Vee.” His nostrils flared, and a moment’s anguish wrinkled the skin around his eyes. “I know. That’s the decision I’ve made.”

She swallowed, a chill settling even through all the layers. “But your family—”

“They’re taken care of.” But the flat line of his mouth said he wasn’t happy about it. He swung the bag over his shoulder and turned to the alley entrance, offering his arm.

There was his sister’s dowry and his mother and brother to take care of, too. From what he’d said about their financial position, it wasn’t something to be solved as quickly and easily as a click of the fingers.

“How?”

“Mercia,” he growled.

She winced and took his arm, leaning heavily on him. Not ideal. Maybe not permanent. There was one way his family’s finances could be taken care of permanently, though. And her own. “Is FitzRoy still here?” she asked as they left the alley, pace slow to allow for her aching legs.

“In the city?” He frowned down at her before going back to scanning the road ahead. “Yes, why?”

“Where’s he staying? I owe him a visit.”

He squeezed her hand. “If you go after him, sword drawn, we’ll—”

She scoffed and shook her head, though the motion sent dizziness spiralling through her. “Not revenge … at least not physical revenge. He has something I need.”

“If it’s your pin”—he reached into his breast pocket—“I have it already.” He held out the red enamelled drake, rubies dark in the night. Only the pearl crown gleamed, pale and ghostly.

“Huh.” The rush of familiarity made her head spin again as she took it—the shape her fingers knew so well.

“I took it from FitzRoy. I—I’d planned to take it to Av—to your parents so they could place it with whatever memorial they have for you.”

“Thank you.” She slipped it in her pocket—best if she wasn’t seen wearing it here in Portsmouth, not while she was trying to parade as an anonymous lady. “But that wasn’t what I had in mind. Where is he?”

“Vee, you—”