She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, a classic Alva gesture he was beginning to treasure, but she twirled the spaghetti anyway. He could see the instant the sauce touched her tongue.

“It’s heaven,” she said.

Staring back at her glowing face, he had to agree.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Alva looked out her window as the train pulled into the Hyde Park station. The sky was a dull gray, the ground muddy underneath a spotty layer of churned snow—a dreary scene that made her loath to leave the cozy train car. Beyond the window lay ghosts and a vindictive brother-in-law and money problems and looming publishing deadlines; but in here, at least for a few more minutes, she was in a world that allowed her to sit quietly in the arms of her lover, leaning back against his chest while he played with a tendril of her hair.

The train came to a full stop, a final jolt marking the end of her delicious bubble. They were back, and she didn’t know what came next.

“We didn’t talk about what the plan was for the ghost—for Rose,” she corrected herself. “We should decide our next step.”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Sam said, standing and pulling down their luggage. “We should try talking to her, since we know who she is. She’s been hidden away, in one way or another, for almost her entire existence. Let’s try treating her like a person, and see what comes of it.”

“A very Sam-like plan,” Alva said, smiling at him as they made their way off the train. “All right. Shall we try this afternoon? I need to stop at the house for an hour or so to freshen up, but I could meet you at Liefdehuis after.”

“Excellent. That’ll give me time to make a few adjustments to some of my equipment—I had a few ideas for improvements while we were in the city.”

They stepped down onto the train platform, and the uncertainty in Alva’s chest intensified. She could see Liza waiting for her a few yards away, flirting with one of the local boys to pass the time. Suddenly the words in her head seemed clumsy; her very stride became awkward.

“All right,” she said again. “Till this afternoon.”

She made to turn away, but Sam grabbed her hand. “I know we’re in public,” he said, pulling her closer. “And I know I probably can’t kiss you the way I’d like to. But—if I remember social protocol correctly—I’m allowed to do this.”

He brought her hand to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers, and even though the kiss was perfectly ordinary and polite, the expression in his eyes was anything but. She swallowed, heat flooding her cheeks and chest.

“Yes,” she said, her voice a little breathy. She cleared her throat. “Quite right.”

He grinned at her and nodded. “Until this afternoon, then.”