“Come with me,” she said desperately. “There’s still a chance for you, too.”
Nic shook his head and chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. “You should know by now that I’m a thief, through and through. I love this life, gypsy, just as much as you hate it.”
“I’ve got passage on a ship in two days,” she admitted.
Nic shook his head. “That’s not soon enough. I mean it—you have to get out of London tonight.”
“I’ll hide. He won’t find me. I know how to go unnoticed.”
A sad smile crooked his lips. “Everyone notices you, gypsy, you just don’t see it. Go to the ship’s captain. See if you can board early, and then don’t leave your quarters. I’ll see if I can distract Wild long enough for you to sail.”
“Are you sure you won’t come with me?” He shook his head. “Be safe then, Nic. And thank you for keeping me safe all this time. Without you, I would never have made it.”
Nic leaned close and gently kissed her lips. It was a goodbye. The kind that said, I’ll never see you again. Tears danced in her eyes.
“Goodbye, Nic,” she whispered. Unable to be near him anymore, knowing that this was the end, Arista spun around and started for the doors. Her vision was watery and she almost didn’t see the member of the Watch that stood just to the side of her exit.
She expected him to reach out and stop her as she passed, but he barely glanced her way.
It took her an hour to navigate the dark streets and return to the townhouse. Several times, she had the feeling she was being followed, but doubling back and waiting revealed no one. It had to be her own paranoid mind working against her.
She would pack tonight—sneak out before anyone knew she was gone.
Maybe leave a note for the Sinclairs, thanking them for their hospitality and mentioning she had left London by coach. It might buy her enough time to keep Wild from looking for her at the docks, at least until they sailed. Exhilaration and dread and sadness all mixed in her chest. She hated to lie to Marguerite and Robert, but there was no other way.
The garden was dark as she snuck through it. In her room, she pulled off her black wool dress and slipped into a dark blue day dress that did not need to be laced tightly. Over it she wore a dark grey traveling cloak.
She pulled out two dresses from the wardrobe. Neither was remarkable. She laid them on the bed and folded them, then carefully rolled them up to take advantage of the limited space. Becky would not be pleased at her handling of them after her careful ironing, but, with a pang, Arista realized the girl would never know.
Next, Arista pulled stockings and undergarments from the drawer and slid them into the bag next to the dresses. She would wear the sturdy gypsy boots under her dress; they were new enough that she could get a lot of wear out of them.
Satisfied that she had what she needed, Arista set the bag on the floor and crept to the door. She pressed her ear to the wood and listened. No one moved outside the room. Becky slept in the room with Sara, so she could not chance waking Sophia’s maid.
Tomorrow first thing, she would ask Grae to send for Becky, before Wild might find her.
She opened the door and walked into something that had been placed on the threshold. It was a medium-sized box, with a note on top. It didn’t weigh much at all, and Arista carried it back into her room and set it on her bed. On the front of the note, someone had written Ana in flowing script. Whatever it was, it was meant for her. She tugged the note free and unfolded it.
My dear Ana,
I saw you admiring this when we were shopping and thought it would suit you beautifully. You may find it useful in the coming weeks.
Your friend always, Sophia
Arista set the note aside and undid the ribbon. Inside the box, wrapped in several layers of tissue paper, sat a bonnet. It was the same one she’d seen earlier, dark blue with a lighter blue ribbon woven along the edge. How had Sophia known that was the one she’d found most appealing? How had she even remembered one overlong glance? It had been nothing more than a pause as she’d waited for Sophia to finish talking to Tomas.
She took it from the box and went to the mirror. Somehow it fit in a way that made the edges of her short hair curl up around it, framing her face. The color brought out the blue in her eyes, and when she tied the ribbon under her chin, it accentuated her cheekbones. She might even pass for middle-class, a merchant’s daughter like Sophia.