“If this job means that much to you, we’ll sort a way for you to—to keep doing it. And if you’re in danger, we’ll formulate a plan for keeping you safe. But if—if you—” He was tripping over his words. “But if you’d like to come back to the house, Gemma, spend your remaining time in London there, I—You—”

She looked up into his face, expecting to find hesitancy in his expression to match his halting words. But it weren’t what she saw at all. He looked . . . flustered.

Gemma reached up and lightly touched his face, her fingertips teasing over his long sideburns. Heat touched his cheeks. That was intriguing. Did he always blush when she touched him? If so, she hadn’t noticed before.

“I want you to be happy, Gemma,” he said quietly. “You tell me what you need for that to happen.”

Happy in the moment? Or happy in the long run? The two, she knew, weren’t always the same. Nothing would make her happier than being held by him, perhaps even kissed by him, and to accept his offer to return to Finsbury and pretend for a fortnight that things were different between them than they’d been before.

He liked her and cared about her. He held her and laughed with her. It weren’t too far a leap from there to love, at least the beginnings of it.

But she’d debated this with herself before. For weeks, she’d told herself she just needed to give him time, give them time. She’d believed the argument enough to not merely confess to him that she loved him but to ask if he loved her.

The pain of his answer still sometimes kept her awake at night.

He wanted her to be happy. She wanted him to be free to marry someone he could love. And that couldn’t happen until she had Mr. Sorokin’s papers in hand and her plan set in motion.

“Perhaps the Donnellys would let me stay here for a fortnight or so,” she said. “Móirín wouldn’t be going out of her way to walk with me to Marylebone. I could keep my job, earn the coins I need.”

Baz didn’t answer right away. He also didn’t drop his arms away from her. She stayed in his embrace, reassured for the moment but knowing the pain would come.

“I’d wager they’d be happy to let you stay.”

Gemma closed her eyes. Kincaids didn’t cry. It were one of the rules. Tears brought whippin’s. She’d learned that long ago.

“Would you object if I came by and visited during the weeks you’re here?” Baz asked quietly. “I likely can’t every day, but if I came when I could?”

She hadn’t the strength to resist that. “I would like that very much.”