A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. “You truly like having me around?”

“I didn’t realize how much until you were back in my life.” He slipped his hand behind her neck and down her back, settling it at her waist. “Everything is better when you’re here, Gemma. Everything.”

She set her hand on his chest, her fingers fussing with his lapel. “Do you swear you’ll be very careful while I’m there? Not take any extra risks?”

He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “I promise you.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “And I’ll leave off working at Madame Tussaud’s. Then no one’ll follow me back to Finsbury. That’ll keep the both of us safer.”

He embraced her in return. “You could help look after patients. I could use the extra help. It’d also give you a chance to get to know Mrs. Simms better.”

“I’d like that.”

Having her in his arms like she was, hearing her talk so easily of coming home, Barnabus couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought he could live without her. This was what he’d longed for these past three years. This was what he’d missed and mourned.

“Maybe you could teach me to waltz again,” she said.

“Have you forgotten?”

“No. I just fancy dancing with you.”

Looking past her shoulder, he spied Móirín watching them from the top of the stairs. Barnabus did not intend to let her ruin this rather perfect moment by teasing either of them.

To Gemma, he said, “Gather up your things. We’ll head home as soon as you’re ready.”

She stepped back and out of his arms, offering a smile before hurrying up the stairs.

Móirín watched her go before returning her attention to Barnabus. “Convinced her to come home, did you?”

“She asked to,” he said, “and I certainly had no objections.”

“She’s mentioned a few times that she’s not meaning to stay in London much longer. Don’t waste what time you have with her.”

He not only didn’t mean to squander the days ahead, but he also fully meant to do all he could to convince her to stay.

Supper that night was everything Barnabus could have hoped for, and it had nothing to do with the food. Gemma was there, and she was happy. They laughed and smiled, swapping tales from the past three years and even a few from their childhoods. They both had horrors in their pasts, but for that night, they kept to the lighter moments.

After they’d cleaned up their meal, they walked, hands clasped, toward the sitting room.

“If you haven’t changed your mind,” he said as they walked, “I would like having you help when we have patients.”