“He’s staying?”
“He likes this life. Won’t ever admit it, but he does. Secretly always had a flair for drama and adventure, despite his hermit tendencies.”
“And Primrose?” The poppy was starting to slur his speech. “What a silly question. Of course she is staying.”
“She still claims to be engaged. We’ll have to settle that when we return to England. But for now, yes.”
“Which means Tasherit is staying.” Quesnel smiled at her.
“And Anitra.” Rue smoothed back his hair, the strands soft against her fingertips. “And Formerly Floote.”
“About Percy. We’ve come to an agreement.”
“Anything to do with his wearing your wrist emitter? You know he saved my life with that thing.”
“As he should. We’ve agreed to co-publish. Of course, we can’t decide on who gets to be first in the byline, but…?”
Rue laughed.
“So you do want me to stay, chérie?”
“For as long as you’re willing.”
He smiled. His eyelids were beginning to close whether he willed it or not. The robins and their feathers were pressing in. “I have a great deal more to teach you. Years and years worth.”
“Should we marry, do you think?”
“That’d likely make it easier. With the lessons, I mean.”
“I do love your lessons.”
“And me?” His pansy eyes opened wide and winning; perhaps the laudanum hadn’t quite taken him yet.
“Yes. I very much love you, too.”
“Thank goodness.” The poor boy was shaking ever so slightly. “I really thought you’d never take me seriously.”
“I wouldn’t go overboard if I were you.” Rue bent and peppered his neck with little kisses, careful to avoid the bandages. He squirmed a bit. “Hold still.”
“Don’t tease, chérie.”
“Don’t you want to know how well I remember said lessons?”
“More than you could possibly imagine. But I’m not exactly capable of a full assessment at the moment.”
Rue chuckled and relaxed down next to him. She did want to do more. But he was right: he was still recovering, and apparently, they would have the rest of their lives to pursue this particular line of study.
He was drifting off. The lines of pain pulling on his face eased. The happiness remained.
“You’ll sleep here?” He pulled her as close as he could with his good arm.
Rue felt a spike of giddy joy. So he did want to sleep next to her. “All night?”
“I promise not to snore if you promise not to turn into a wolf, or a lioness, or a mongoose, or any other odd supernatural thing next to me.”
“Agreed,” said Rue.
Author’s Note
Place and street names in this book (when not entirely fictitious) are based on those listed in Amelia B. Edward’s A Thousand Miles Up the Nile (published in 1877) and written on maps of Africa from the 1890s. Spelling is authentic to the time period, e.g. Ass?an, Wady Halfeh, Abu Hammed, and Khartoom.
Acknowledgements
This one is for my fans, with particular love to all who have taken time to reach out and connect with me over the years. You know who you are. You who started fan groups and helped moderate them; who wrote reviews and asked for interviews; who created costumes, artwork, and delicious baked goods – Skye, Ty, Ris, Katie, Stephen, Nicole, Dick, Jami, Clinton, Veronica, Angelica, Hannah, Claire, Christine, Amanda, Bethany, Miss K and the St Louis Parasol Girls, and so many more! Your support means everything. I feel like I have enjoyed life’s greatest gifts: to be blessed with many friends.
You see, I have always written, but without you (yes, you with the eyeballs reading this now) I’m only a writer, not an author. When a reader takes time to reach out to me the circle completes and I know I’m not sending words out into an empty void.
Thank you.