Chapter Thirty-Four

Briggs

My last morning in London feels decidedly like autumn. The sky above us is gray and overcast, and a cold breeze whisks through the streets, chasing us to our destination. When we finally reach Sebastian’s club, Miss Dixon stands beside me, wearing a pretty purple dress with little golden leaves and a matching golden spencer. She clasps her hands before her, and when I reach to open the door, she looks up at me with wide eyes.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath through her nose. “I’m ready,” she says with a nod. “But Mr. Goswick? Will you go in first?”

“Whatever puts you most at ease.”

She shakes her head, letting out a forced laugh. “I’m afraid nothing is going to put me at ease, Mr. Goswick, so we should probably go in.”

I open the door, taking a step inside the shadowed hall that leads to the back of the building where the sound of men’s shouts and fists hitting flesh float toward us. Miss Dixon follows me, and I glance over my shoulder to make sure she’s still there. She flinches with every punch she hears.

“It sounds worse than it is,” I assure her quietly.

A brief smile flickers across her mouth and then fades.

At the end of the hall, the training room opens before me, the muted light from the streets flowing in through the wall of windows. Sebastian stands at the side of the ring, watching two gentlemen bob and weave around one another. His arms are crossed over his chest as he calls out words of encouragement or constructive criticism.

I step forward, removing my hat, and Miss Dixon stays behind in the shadowed hall. After a moment, Sebastian glances in my direction, grinning broadly when he sees me.

“Goswick,” he calls out, striding across the room, and when he meets me in the middle, he claps me on the shoulder. “You’re a surprise this morning. I thought you said you were headed back to Mistlethrush today.”

I’m so nervous, which is silly considering I’m not the person confessing my love for Sebastian. I clear my throat. “Yes, that was my initial plan, but I’m afraid I had some last-minute business to finish up before leaving.”

“Well, I’m glad it brought you here.” He’s still smiling, both hands on his hips. “What can I do for you?”

“Actually,” I say, gripping my hat between my hands, “I rather think there’s something I can do for you this morning. You see, Bash, I’ve brought a friend with me who is eager to see you.”

“That’s good of you, Goswick.” Sebastian turns from me, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the table beside him. “I’m always open to new clients.”

“Ah, yes, well. This person isn’t exactly a client.” I take a step aside so that the entrance to the hall can be seen, and Miss Dixon steps out from the shadows. “I would make the introduction, but I don’t believe either of you need one.”

Sabrina takes one then two hesitant steps into the training room, her expression a mixture of elation and terror. Beside me, Sebastian’s grin slowly fades, and he glances from my face to Sabrina’s, almost as if he’s checking to make sure this isn’t some prank I’m pulling on him.

“How did you…?” He runs his hand down his face, and then leans over, bracing himself on his knees and taking a few deep breaths before standing again. In three strides, he’s across the room, and Sabrina is in his arms, clinging to him as he swings her off her feet. Finally, he places her back down, their foreheads pressed together as they whisper to one another. Sabrina grips the lapels of his waistcoat as though she may very well wilt if she lets go.

Relief floods through me: relief that I’ve reunited two people who deserve to be happy. Relief that there was a happy ending in this story for someone, even if it isn’t me and Blythe. To have done this favor for a friend, well. It’s remarkably gratifying. I put my hat back on my head and cross the room to the side door.

“Goswick,” Sebastian calls to me before I leave. He places his right hand over his heart, the other wrapped around Sabrina’s waist. “Thank you. I can never thank you enough.”

I bow to him. “It was my privilege, Bash.”

I slip out into the London street, setting a brisk pace for my uncle’s house so that I might get back to Mistlethrush before the sun sets this evening. Tonight, when we’re together in the drawing room of our home, I will tell August and Mother everything. They deserve the truth, and I realize I deserve to share some of the burden.