Wicked Gentlemen (29 page)

"To be happy," I said suspiciously. It was such a deceptively simple-sounding thing to say. It could mean anything. "How do you plan on being happy?"

"How do you?" Harper returned the question.

"I'm not the sort to make plans," I said. "You are."

"True," Harper admitted.

"So, what is this plan of yours?" I picked up my discarded hand of cards. They were as hopeless as ever, but it gave me some-thing to do.

"I'm going back to the Foster Estate. It's mine, and it's about time I took care of it."

"So, the simple life of a rural landlord for you, then?" I gave up on the cards I had and pulled three new ones from the deck. Harper was free to go as he pleased. He was free to find his happiness wherever he wished. I smacked my hand of cards back down next to the deck in frustration.

"Wouldn't you want to get away from here if you could?" Harper asked.

"What, and leave all the smog and Inquisitors behind?" Of course I wanted to leave. Every Prodigal I knew wanted to get away from the city, but there were laws and guards to stop us.

"You'd be leaving your home, your friends—everything," Harper said. "I know it's a hard thing for me to ask you to do. But I have to ask."

"You're serious?" I stared at Harper. "You want me to come with you?"

"You wouldn't leave the bell tower at White Chapel without me," Harper said. "Why should I leave you here?"

"That was hardly the same thing," I said.

"We can leave tonight while my name is still on the active lists of Inquisitors. All we need to do is trade coats. The clerks at the Green-Hill carriage house already think you're me."

"Harper, what if we get out to your estate and we..."

"We're found out? We're attacked by locusts?" Harper shrugged. "Who knows what will happen, but I want to find out. Don't you, Belimai?"

"What if we find out that we can't stand each other?" I asked.

"It's a big house. I'm sure we could work something out."

"I'm serious," I said.

"You're too serious." Harper pulled off his Inquisition jacket and tossed it at me.

"People are going to know—" I told him.

"Not if we're careful."

"It's not that simple, Harper."

"It is. Just come with me."

I stared at him, trying to think of what I would do if I chose not to join him. I wasn't such a delicate creature that I would simply wither and die of sorrow. I could survive losing him; I just wouldn't want to.

At last, I pulled on the jacket. It was still warm from Harper's body, and the familiar scent of his skin lingered on it. I buttoned the front and straightened the collar. It fit me well enough.

 
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank Nicole Kimberling and Melissa Miller for all their support, nagging and patience. I'm also grateful to Marjorie M. Liu who was kind enough to read an early draft and who offered amazing encouragement.

And, of course, I have to thank Sharon McMorrow who taught me that literature could contain spicy sex scenes as well as proper grammar.