Releasing her grip on the stone pillar, she brought her hand to cover his on her cheek. It wasn’t to stop him. It was to keep him there, prolonging the tender intensity of the moment.

But there was no prolonging it.

At length, he drew back, his brow resting on hers. His breath was unsteady. “Still scared?”

She curved her fingers around his. He pressed her hand in response. “Yes,” she admitted, her breath as woefully uneven as his. “But I’m no longer frozen with fear.” Her voice sounded quite unlike her own.

“Good.” He pulled back further so he could search her gaze. There was something different in his face—a line of deep consternation etching his forehead and a frowning shadow of baffled vulnerability flickering at the back of his eyes. It was only a crack. A glimmer. But Effie registered it just the same.

She had the uneasy sensation that the fundamental topography of their acquaintance had undergone a seismic shift. It was more than a change of perception. It was an alteration to the very ground on which they stood.

But they weren’t on the ground, she reminded herself.

A flush of cold air kissed her cheeks as Gabriel removed his hands from her face. “We need to get out of here,” he said.

She nodded her assent.

He stood all at once. Still holding her right hand in his, he pulled her up along with him.

Effie rose on quivering legs. The sight of the dark garden stretched out beneath them, unobscured by the terrace rail, sent another tremor of fear through her. She clung to Gabriel’s sleeve. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Yes, you can.” Gently extricating himself from her grasp, he went to the stone railing. “I’ll go over first, and then I’ll help you. We’re not debating it.”

With that, he swung over the side.

A reflexive scream bubbled in Effie’s throat. She ruthlessly stifled it, hating that her fear of heights should make her so weak and irrational. Gabriel hadn’t leapt to his doom, for heaven’s sake. He was safe on the other side of the terrace rail.

“Lift your skirts out of the way,” he said.

Still trembling, Effie caught her petticoats and crinoline up as best she could, revealing a glimpse of her stocking-clad limbs.

That wasn’t all she revealed.

The moonlight glinted on the implements tied to her crinoline.

Gabriel shot them an inscrutable look. Whatever his thoughts, he appeared to comprehend she was in no position to hear them. His gaze returned to hers, commanding all her attention. “Take my hand,” he said. “And don’t look down.”

Staring steadily back at him, she obediently accepted his outstretched hand. Her heart was racing and her palms were damp, but what else could she do? There was no other way out of this. She was going to have to trust him.