“But I can’t think of it now,” she said. “Not when Franc might be hurt or frightened. Compton could do anything—”

“He won’t. Not if wants his book back. It’s in his interest to keep Franc safe.”

The reassurance seemed to calm her fears, even if only a little. Some of the tension left her brow. She nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, you’re right, of course. He won’t harm him.”

Gabriel took her ungloved hand, holding it safe in both of his. “I’ll get him back for you,” he swore. “I promise you that.”

Her fingers curled around his. She gave him another faint smile. “You’re very chivalrous, given the circumstances.”

“What circumstances are those?”

“Objectively bad ones. I stole a book. I stabbed a man.” Her smile faded. “I’m not the fine lady you originally thought me, only an orphan from the Rookery. You’d be within your rights to think less of me.”

“I think more of you than ever.” He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss to the curve of her knuckles. “You’re the whole world to me, Effie Flite. You do know that, don’t you?”

Her eyes met his. A hint of color bloomed in her cheeks. “I didn’t know,” she said. “But I’d hoped.”

He recalled his words to her on the train, recognizing them in her answer. It prompted a fleeting, foolish grin. “There,” he replied. “See how well matched we are?”

“And yet still unaccountably at odds,” she said. “Even more after today. I’ve made an enemy of Compton. There will be no going back. Not for me.”

Gabriel grew serious. “As to that…”

The carriage rattled to a jolting halt before he could finish.

Effie’s head jerked to the window. “Are we there already? Thank heavens!”

He glanced outside. They’d reached the entrance to Cremorne Gardens with uncommon speed. His speech would have to wait.

He opened the door for them and he and Effie jumped out. Passing through the black iron gates together, they made straight for the expansive grounds near Cremorne House. It was a temperate day, the skies blue and the white clouds billowing, with only a slight wind.

Ahead, the orchestra was playing a rousing tune, and clowns and acrobats capered past, dancing and juggling. Balloon ascensions were still a novel enough sight, but—despite the fine weather—today’s event hadn’t drawn a sizable crowd. It was likely owing to last week’s tragedy with Galezzo. In the aftermath, people had temporarily cooled on the pleasure gardens’ more dangerous feats.