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Just as Lydia knew she had to leave. “And what if he finds you?”

Honoria looked up sharply. She clearly didn’t anticipate this question, although she should have. “Then I’ll… In that case, I will be quickly joining you on your travels.” She flashed a quick, sad smile. “I hope you’ll still welcome me.”

Lydia didn’t understand Honoria’s reluctance to explain herself or, more importantly, her willingness to stay after everything she went through. But a part of her didn’t need to understand because a part of her felt the exact same way—as though there were things, unresolved things, that nagged her to stay as well.

Or perhaps she didn’t want to leave anymore either. She could still see Art’s eyes, dark and intense, full of pain and passion and wonder, as he reverently whispered her name.

Lily.

She wasn’t Lily anymore—she hadn’t been for a long time. But all the moments they’d shared immediately floated back to the surface from the deep recesses of her heart and enveloped her like a blanket.

She had tried to forget it all, forget him, for so long. She had thought that stealing his jewel, this ring that was now nestled on her finger, would give her a feeling of satisfaction.

It was her revenge. Her closure. A full stop.

The end.

But it wasn’t enough.

A few quick kisses in the darkened alcove weren’t enough either.

Perhaps nothing would ever be enough, and she should just leave. Right now.

The carriage pulled to a stop as if to punctuate her thoughts.

“What about you?” Honoria asked. “What are you going to do now?”

Lydia licked her lips. “I am going to help you get into your house quickly and quietly. And then I am going to leave just as I planned.” A nervous chuckle on her lips, she added, “Before I get caught for my crimes.”

Honoria bit her lip. “I am going to miss you.”

“I shall miss you, too.”

Distant horse hooves and the rattle of a carriage sounded somewhere behind them. Honoria looked out the window. “Blast! It must be the earl. He must have left the masquerade right after we did. I won’t have enough time to get home without him seeing me.”

Lydia nodded and rushed to hug her friend. “I shall distract him. You go.”

“Lydia, don’t!” Honoria cried out, but Lydia already opened the carriage door and jumped down, stepping into a puddle.

Her soaking slippers, now covered in mud, rushed to the driver’s side. “Wait for me at the corner of the street.”

Honoria stumbled out of the carriage. “What are you doing, Lydia?”

“I am giving you time to get in before the earl notices you,” she shouted over the rain. “Now go.”

Honoria, a heavy valise in hand, gave Lydia a quick hug and hurried away toward the house’s back entrance. The carriage slowly pulled away and drove to the corner of the street.

Lydia didn’t know exactly what she was going to say to the earl, but she would only need to distract him for a few minutes, to give Honoria enough time to reach her room.

The shadowy silhouette of the carriage approached Lydia in the dark. Lydia pressed a hand to her forehead, hoping it would shield her eyes from the heavy rain. It didn’t.

Before the carriage even pulled to a stop, the door flew open with such force that it slammed against the side. A towering figure emerged, dark and menacing, causing Lydia to instinctively step back. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her breath caught in her throat as lightning flashed, illuminating the gentleman’s face.

It wasn’t the earl at all.

It was Art.

He’d found her again.