“Yes. It seems George Sutter sent her there. With Gloria dead, he thought Davies may be in danger, so he gave her fare for passage and told her to leave England for her own safety.”
I shook my head. I’d been sickened, worried she’d been murdered and her body stuffed somewhere. The man who had come to get her at Marlatt’s Café had been George. “Terrific,” I said. “What a prince. I almost got killed, and Davies got to sit around in Paris, all expenses paid.”
“She is rather odious,” the inspector carefully agreed. “It does gall a little.”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and put my bare feet on the floor, flexing my toes. “I’d like to help,” I said, “but I don’t know what I can do for you. I don’t think I’ll be much use.”
He sounded almost amused. “You won’t get rid of me so easily, Miss Winter. Scotland Yard is far from finished with you, I assure you.”
I looked at his tired face, a good face, an intelligent face, and on impulse I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Thank you,” I said to him.
He glanced down at my hand, then politely raised his eyebrows at me.
“Fine.” I sighed. Then I looked at him again, surprised. “Your name is Drew. And she’s not your fiancée. You haven’t asked her yet, because she’s at Oxford and she hasn’t finished her degree.”
Inspector Merriken blew out a put-upon sigh. “God save me from intelligent women. Good day, Miss Winter.” He pulled his wrist from my grip and stood.
“If you ask her,” I called to his retreating back, “she’ll say yes.”
“Who will say yes?”
It was James, coming through the doorway, glancing warily at Merriken and then looking at me. Merriken only touched the brim of his hat and disappeared.
James looked rumpled and exhausted, his jaw dark with an incipient beard, his clothes stained and smelling of smoke. He was in his shirtsleeves, and as I watched he plunged his hands into his pockets and leaned on the doorframe, his gaze careful and shuttered.
“Never mind,” I said to him. “It doesn’t matter.”
He blinked and gazed past me, out the window. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I think so, yes.”
“You were unconscious for a long time.”
“It was the smoke, I think. And my mind had . . . exhausted itself.” I rubbed a hand over my hair, suddenly self-conscious, wishing for a bath. “Did you carry me out of the woods?”
His gaze flicked to me and away again, and he shrugged. “You don’t weigh very much.”
The air seemed heavy, unbearable. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn’t sure I could stand, and I could tell he didn’t want me to. “James,” I said.
“Listen.” He seemed to be gathering his courage. Still he stood in the doorway, not coming inside. “Ellie, you are . . . You know what you are. To me.” He raised a hand from his pocket and rubbed his jaw. “But I think I’ve proven that I’m a bit of a mess right now.”
“You were brave,” I said quietly. “And wonderful.”
He shook his head, making a sound of disgust.
“And you’re hurt,” I continued, “and you went through terrible things. But it doesn’t mean—”
“It does,” he interrupted. “It does mean it. I nearly blew his brains out, Ellie. Right in front of you, in front of his own brother, in front of everyone. I was this close.” He shifted, his body moving as if he was uncomfortable in his own skin. “It doesn’t matter that he was a criminal and a murderer. Don’t you see? I nearly blew his brains out when I knew the police were coming, while you stood there watching. I should probably be locked up in one of those hospitals you hear about in the newspapers.”
I pressed my knees together, rubbing one aching foot over the other, silent.
“The drinking didn’t work,” James said. “Working for Paul and the Society didn’t work—chasing ghosts. I thought it helped, but it turns out that if you put a gun in my hand, I’m the same old barbarian.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice rising in panic before I could stop it.
Finally he looked at me. His eyes were sad, his jaw tight. “You know what I’m saying.”
“No. I won’t accept it.”
“Ellie, you should find somebody else. Somebody—”
“Somebody what? Normal?” I laughed, a bitter sound. “James, I just identified an international terrorist by touching a cigarette, and then I summoned my dead friend. I don’t want normal. I want you.” My voice had risen, but I ceased to care. “Besides, you’re forgetting something important. You didn’t shoot him. You stopped.”
“I was so close, Ellie. So goddamned close.”
“Yes, you were. It’s true. And you stopped.”
He looked so exhausted. “God, I’m going to have to fight you on this, aren’t I?”
“I don’t accept it, James. You may as well know it now. I never will.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes closed. I held my breath—quite literally held it, as my heart hammered in my chest. I had made a good show, but a show was all it was. If he turned away now, I would fall to pieces.
The silence stretched on. My fingers clenched in the bedspread.
Finally he let go a slow breath. He came into the room and sat on the end of the bed a few feet away, his back to me, his elbows on his knees.
A small sobbing sound escaped my throat. I scooted over and slid in behind him, putting my arms around his waist. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking them over his thighs, my feet between his knees. I pressed my cheek to his back, between his shoulder blades, feeling the thick tension that ran through his body, listening to his breathing and his blood pulsing. We stayed like that for a long moment.
“You saw her, didn’t you?” I said in a whisper.
“Yes,” he whispered back. “I saw all of them. What did she say to him, when she whispered in his ear?”
“She said, No,” I replied softly. “I saw her lips move; I heard it. He was coming for me, and she stopped him. She said, No.”
“Jesus.”