Being lovers was not the problem.

It was the secrets they both knew the other kept.

It was the fear.

It was the many things they discovered about each other, and the others they knew could never be revealed.

Two weeks ought to have been enough for Ellie to know Byron's secrets, but despite that, she still had more to find out.

As she watched him leave her estate for the third time since they met, she knew he would be back. What she was unaware of was where he came home to.

-Above and Below

*****

"How was your time alone in Wikchurst?" asked Ysabella when Emma came for tea one afternoon.

"It has been exciting," she replied, trying to sound dry and sarcastic.

"You ought to have come with us. The children have been asking for you." Ysabella settled beside her and leaned closer. "Has Sam dropped by for a visit?"

Emma shook her head. "Not while everyone was away, no."

"And since our return?"

"He has for a couple of afternoons," Emma supplied, carefully taking her teacup to her lips. Ysabella watched until she returned the cup on the table. Without her sister voicing her question, Emma sighed and admitted, "I believe he is becoming overly obsessed, Ysa. I fear not only for his safety but that of us around him. I have to be realistic and think that we can all be in danger should he ever become more aggressive in this fight."

Ysabella did not speak for a while, appearing to think about Emma's sentiments. "I have actually been thinking of the same thing, Em. I was merely keeping silent for I fear that it might change your decision to marry him because I would love that you and he be wed. But yes, I do fear that his family and even we, the Everards, might be affected because of what he is doing."

"Yet we cannot force him to stop."

Ysabella nodded. "No, we cannot." Her sister leaned away and sighed. "Who would have thought that the Samuel we once knew would turn into a man like this? Has it not merely been a few years when he did naught but live in Grey's with our brothers?"

"Yes."

"He has formed his own ideals and is now fighting for it."

Emma turned her head to look at her sister. "Do you believe that if it were not for what happened to Maxine, if it were not for that letter Samuel published, he would be what he is today?"

Ysabella shrugged. "That was brave of him. Truly admirable, really, and I think that it was the turning of the knob for him. The door has always been left open for him, Em. He merely took the courage to open it. I guess he has always been the same man merely hiding behind that same door."

She nodded in agreement.

Her sister narrowed her eyes at her. "There is more you are not telling."

Emma blinked and looked away.

"What keeps you from setting the date for the wedding, Emma? Please, tell me the real reason. I truly wish to know what you think and feel." Ysabella reached for her hand and squeezed it. "And know that I will support you."

Emma shook her head. "I hate myself for thinking it, Ysa, that is why I cannot tell you."

"Tell me, please."

Biting her lower lip, Emma hesitated. Then she began to think of the many times Ysabella and she shared many secrets. Perhaps her sister could keep this one as well. "I simply think Sam is becoming too full of himself-" when her sister merely remained quiet, she added, "I know it is bad of me and you must think I am simply looking for reasons to not marry him, but he no longer listens to reasons. He tries and he does his best to show me he respects my opinions, but I know for a fact that he does not consider them at all. He marvels too much on the attention his readers throw at him and I fear that I cannot see myself living the kind of limelight he is enjoying."

Ysabella stared at her for a long time without uttering a sound.

"Perhaps you must say something. Tell me I am wrong and that I am simply being selfish."

Her sister shook her head. "What I find interesting, Em, is why you think that anyone would ever suspect you are simply looking for reasons to not marry him."

She sighed. "Because perhaps I truly am, I am no longer sure."

"And if you are, then you do not wish to marry him, Em." Ysabella squeezed her hand again. "I want Samuel for you, but I do not want you for him if your intentions are half-hearted. You deserve to marry someone you can see your future without reservations. He deserves one as well."

Emma bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from showing. "There are too many who will be disappointed."

"And even more so if they witness you in a loveless marriage."

"I do love him, Ysa."

"As a friend, of course, you do," Ysabella replied, rolling her eyes. "But friendship and companionship are mere fractions of marriage. There ought to be more. Should you consider friendship as basis for marriage, then Samuel would have married Ralph."

Emma scoffed at her sister's lousy jest.

Ysabella's smile faded. "Tori and Levi were friends, Em, but they had something more. You and Sam are friends, but do you have what Tori and Levi have?"

"What?"

Ysabella shook her head. "You are clueless when it comes to love, sister. To think that we both matched many couples in the past!" Chuckling, her sister added, "Jealousy, hate-the things you do not like about him woven in one giant ball. That is what I am meant, Em."

"That is not love."

Her sister smiled as though she knew something Emma did not. "Love is when you feel those things and you still desperately want to be with him."

"It is bloody confusing!" Emma cried in frustration.

"Love is, Em," Ysabella said with a smile. "And I do hope you get there."

*****

Samuel stopped by Wynne's small office in the Town Herald, saying at the doorway, "You are invited to join me and the Everards at Grey's tonight."

Wynne frowned. "I was expecting you to be spending more time in the Everard manor, actually, now that your articles are over and you are not working on one."

Samuel did not want to address his friend's statement. He wanted to see Emma, but not tonight. He wanted to place a bit of distance between them before they clashed and cause a rip between them.

And perhaps he was still a bit disappointed-even angry-that she could not support his decisions fully. She respected them, yes, but not to a point where he was reassured that she would be there with him until the end.

"I want to be with the company of my male friends tonight, so come and join us. It has been a while since we gathered."

Wynne simply nodded.

Samuel sighed and looked at his friend with mock pity. "You truly are clueless. Emma and I had a small argument, which is why I want to stay away. Do you get it now?"

His ignorant friend continued to frown. "Then is it not the perfect time to see her?"

"I will when we have both have time to think. As of now, I simply wish to discuss matters of import with my friends."

"She is also your friend."

Samuel fell silent. And then he sighed. "Emma is a woman. She is wise, yes, but her mind is filled with too many conspiracies and theories, most of them too farfetched. Matters about the Town ought to be discussed amongst men. And she has been against my actions of late, which can be quite disheartening."

"But you admire her for her mind."

"Yes, of course. I admire her for at least having the capability to think differently."

His friend made no further comment and said he would be at Grey's later.

Samuel went home and dressed, all the while wondering what Emma was currently thinking. She must be afraid for her family and his. He understood that. He was not stupid not to have considered the repercussions.

But he had reached this far. Everyone would eventually understand that someone ought to make the dangerous move for change.

She would come to her senses, he thought, and that was the last he let himself be bothered by it. Emma was wise and she would eventually support him at any cause for she understood what he was fighting for.

Later that night, Samuel was at Grey's with Levi and Ralph.

"The bloody bastard is suggesting the idea of bringing back monarchy to place the people under one ruler," he shared to his future brothers-in-law.

Ralph scoffed. "That will cause a revolution. Surely he is not that big of a bloody idiot."

"They are ambitious," Levi commented, "them Trilbys."

"And we do not know how many of them are in existence," Samuel said in frustration. "I have started research on the family tree. I have not gone far, I tell you."

"Why would you bloody want to know every Trilby there is?" Ralph demanded.

"Because he is obsessed," Wynne said behind them as he took his seat beside Samuel. "Hello, my lords. Good evening."

"I am not. I have plans," said Samuel, ignoring Wynne.

"Your paper, of course," retorted Ralph. "What does Emma think of it?"

"She supports it," he lied.

"Then she will be the first person on your paper's obituary section, you idiot," snapped Ralph. "What you are about to do is dangerous, Samuel."

Wynne cleared his throat, probably regretting having come.

"I will not let any harm come upon her, Ralph," Samuel said. "The paper will be her protection. I will be everyone's protection. Do you not see? Should anything happen to any of those I care about, the townspeople will know who has done it. The Trilbys know that, hence they will not do anything that would cause their reputation. They are currently controlling me through the Town Herald, but the moment I establish my own paper, no one is stopping me."

Levi looked at Samuel for a long time. For a moment, he felt a tinge of fear. What would her brothers do to him should Emma ever be in danger?

"Think more about it," Ralph ordered.

To keep them from saying anything more, Samuel nodded. Averting his eyes from his friend, he looked around Grey's, wondering if there was anyone he could later join for a game of cards. But something red and glittering caught his attention. It was a dress and the one wearing it was laughing with two gentlemen. He could see three more attempting to join the woman's growing circle.

Just as his eyes landed on her, so did his companions'.

Ralph was fast to lean over his drink and whisper to everyone, "That is Stella Marie, the actress!"

"Hush, brother, do not get too excited," said Levi, also craning his neck to look. "Yes, that is her."

Wynne was doing the same, asking under his breath, "What is she doing here?"

Ralph stole the beautiful actress another glance before he dismissively said in a dry tone, "Selling her useless play, of course."

His friends ignored him.

And as though the actress heard him, she turned her head and her eyes landed on them longer than necessary. She met Samuel's gaze for a fraction of a second before she looked away, looking uninterested.

"Bloody hell, she looked this way!" Ralph whispered.

Samuel lost interest. Stella Marie was not a woman of gentry so she could very well grace Grey's whenever she wanted to. But this was the first Samuel heard of her being here and she was already causing a ruckus. He would not be surprised if she turned Grey's into a bloody brothel.

Ralph was already calling for a server for some writing articles. "Alex will not berate me for drinking tonight without her if I bring home Stella Marie's signature."

"Have her sign twice," ordered Levi. "For Tori."

Samuel rolled his eyes and whispered to Wynne, "Bloody idiots."

*****

Emma was determined to join the cast and crew of Above and Below for their picnic at the woods near Wickhurst. She took the woman's invitation as a challenge and she was not one to back out from one.

But when she arrived, Emma started to hesitate.

She lied to her mother before she came here, saying she was going to take the horse for a short trip to Ysabella and Wakefield's estate. Samuel had no idea at all. Her siblings were as much ignorant. She must feel guilty.

But she was not.

This was naught but a harmless picnic with her newfound friends.

And they were the friends who jumped and ran to her when they saw her. As a friend of a former bandit, she was welcome into the tight circle of the jugglers.

Emma almost pulled back when the leader of the group, Veron, pulled her to where Wynne, Stella and Jordan were sitting.

Stella did not spare her a glance but said, "Ah, here she is."

While Jordan could not keep his eyes off Emma, Wynne frowned at her. If tension was supposed to be present at that moment as Emma had expected, she could not sense it. By how she had told him the last time they saw each other that she was no longer coming for the rehearsals, he was supposed to act differently. As a matter-of-fact, she did expect him to be cold.

But that was not the case. He was merely surprised she was there. "Whyever are you here, Emma?" he asked.

"Stella invited me," she nonchalantly said. When Stella threw her a look, Emma corrected, "The jugglers invited me, not her. She simply wrote the invitation."

"Because they cannot," Stella snapped with a grim look. "I was too afraid for my life for one of them showed me his favorite knife."

Veron laughed and said, "Nae, Miss Stella, nae one did."

Stella threw Veron a sharp look. "Yes, he did. He was your little boy."

"Ah, well, he did, didn't he?" Veron said with a laugh. "Come, milady, have food!"

Emma let herself be led away from Wynne and the two actors. She joined the jugglers around their table where she recognized many of their foods as she had eaten the same at Meriwether where Alex and her bandit family lived.

An hour after her arrival, Emma realized Wynne was indeed ignoring her as she had expected. Although he did not act cold, he had done naught but sit in his chair to talk with Jordan and the others.

She was ready to excuse herself and leave, regretting her impetuous decision to come, when Stella rose from her seat to join her by the refreshment table set up by the crew.

"You accepted my invitation," said the actress nonchalantly, pouring herself a glass of ale punch.

"Oh, so now it was your invitation after all," Emma said, keeping her smile at bay.

Stella looked at the jugglers as they merrily laughed under a giant tree. "It is quite surprising that you became friends with them."

"They are good people. Very welcoming. Funny as well."

"They are ex-bandits, are you aware?"

"Of course. They know some of the bandits I am also friends with," Emma shared, leaning closer to Stella, whispering, "although I am not certain if they will embrace or kill each other should they ever meet again."

Stella was looking at Emma with her mouth agape. "You are friends with bandits!"

"Hush," Emma said with a wink. "I ought not to have shared the secret because it can be dangerous." When Stella's eyes rounded in shock, Emma added, "Now, you ought to be careful with your life because of it. I am sorry." The actress gasped in fear and Emma chuckled. "I am merely jesting, Stella. My bandit friends would dare not harm a friend of mine. Should you ever encounter one along a lone road, simply tell them we are friends. They will spare your purse."

"You cannot be serious!"

Emma whispered, "I am."

It took Stella a few moments before she blinked and considered that Emma might be telling the truth. "No wonder you are different."

"Different?"

"From other women of your station."

"Oh," Emma said, "those women."

She gave Emma a sideway glance and scoffed. Stella gulped down half of her ale punch, grimacing at the strong flavor and then smiling with satisfaction. "I was born in a small village where some bandits also often came by."

"Were they friendly?"

"Some of them were. They did pay for their shopping."

"Our eldest brother, Benedict, often sent Ysabella and I to Devonshire when we were quite young. He considered it punishment whenever we ran into trouble, but we liked Devonshire for it has a village where many of our friends lived. They often talked about bandits and somehow I had always been interested in them. Although I do agree they can be quite scary."

"You admit they scare you? Yet you are friends with some."

"Some of them are not like these jugglers and my friends. So, yes, perhaps some of them are dangerous and ought to be feared."

Stella shook her head. "You are one eccentric woman, Lady Emma," she said as she started to walk away without as much of a goodbye.

"Beware of them bandits, Miss Stella!" Emma whispered after her.

Stella's head sharply turned over her shoulder to glare at her and she laughed.

As her laughter died, Emma watched Stella return to where Wynne and Jordan were. The woman was not bad after all, but she must be a friend Emma might never have. She no longer had plans to be at the rehearsals and this picnic was her final goodbye to the friends she had made in Ulric.

She turned and saw the lake. Two children were playing in the waters while Veron sat nearby, watching over them. Her feet started to lead her there, intent to join them.

Stealing Wynne and his group another glance, Emma Wynne drink from Stella's glass of ale punch and she looked away.

*****

From the corner of his eye, Wynne saw Emma walking over to the lake to join the head of the jugglers and his two children.

He was intent on ignoring her for she deserved it, coming to see him to tell him she would no longer be present at rehearsals and then appearing suddenly in their picnic. He would allow her another hour alone before he would approach her. Or perhaps he could approach her some other day in Wickhurst, quite coincidentally, of course.

But when Jordan came to his feet, eyes on Emma, Wynne became alert. The actor excused himself and started to follow Emma's footsteps toward the lake.

"The bastard is on her again. I told you to bring your bloody pistol," Stella murmured under her breath.

Wynne sighed and stood up. He caught up with Jordan, saying, "Stella said she has something to tell you," he told Jordan as he walked past the man who had stopped to look over his shoulder at Stella.

Wynne turned, walking backward to see Stella glaring at him as Jordan approached her. He gave his friend a wink before he turned, closing the distance between him and Emma.

"Your dress will be drenched if you come close to the children," he said beside her, surprising her.

*****

"You surprised me," she snapped at him.

"My apologies," he murmured, taking her by the elbow to guide her farther away from Veron and the children. He looked up at the giant hole above them. "It seems it is about to rain," he said.

Emma squinted at the sky above. "No, it is not."

"It might," he said, leading her to a large tree that blocked the view of the picnic.

"Then we must return-"

"They do not have cover when the rain falls," he reasoned, urging her to walk deeper down the path and farther away from the others.

As they walked, Wynne asked, "Will you be attending the Seymour ball?"

"With Samuel and a few others, yes," she answered. "And you?"

"Yes."

Then it must be the play his uncle warned him about that afternoon, Emma thought to herself. She was not about to ask him about his family attending the ball. He had clearly stated how his family was an inconvenience.

Just as he said, it began to pour just in time that they reached a large tree that offered them some shade.

"I hate being a bloody gentleman, but I believe you need this," he said, taking off his coat. "Otherwise, your family will wonder why you are dripping wet."

Emma watched as Veron grabbed his children and ran to the nearest tree to keep dry. The others had done the same, finding their own tree for protection while the other jugglers started to enjoy the pouring water from aboveground, dancing around arm in arm with liquors in hand like they would in their bandit villages.

The rain began to pour heavier and Emma was forced to accept Wynne's coat, allowing him to put it over her head.

The tree offered some protection, but there were still some rain showers that escaped, dropping on Wynne's wide back as he squatted down to pick up a stick.

"You know that your coat is large enough for both of us, yes?" Emma said, holding the open edge of the coat and spreading it above him with her right arm.

He looked up and saw what she was doing and he scoffed. "You are one very gentleman, my lady."

Emma simply rolled her eyes, frowning at the hole above them. The rain may not stop anytime soon, she thought. She considered running toward her horse, but it would mean she had to ride home wet. There would be no way she could explain why rain poured in the Wakefield residence.

Deciding to wait out the rain, she looked down at what Wynne was doing. He was digging a path to redirect the flow of water away from them.

She faintly smiled. "You remind me of Levi. He loves to innovate."

"Hmm." He kept digging and Emma waited for his next words. "I grew up alone. And a solitary life for a child brings forth many kinds of imagination."

Emma made no comment. She could she think of a question either so she fell quiet.

"I was with your brothers last night."

"You were at Grey's?"

He nodded. "Samuel was also there."

"I know," she haughtily lied. "He told me. Although he did not mention you."

"He did not mention you either," was his taunting reply.

Emma gritted her teeth until the irritation disappeared. And then she almost scoffed at the childish spat.

Wynne continued to dig and Emma watched as rainwater flowed away from them. "Why did you come?" he asked all so suddenly without looking up. He stood up while Emma thought of an answer. He took the edge of the coat she was holding out for him and adjusted it over his own head. "Hmm. This is indeed large enough for both of us."

Emma moistened her lips.

She felt him turn his head to look at her. She could not dare look back. "Well? Why did you come here? I thought you are no longer interested in the theatre."

"This is not the theatre," she said, "and I was invited by Stella."

"If you say so," he said, leaning against the tree trunk.

She struggled internally to gather the courage to tell him what she was not able to when she came back to Ulric during her last visit. "And I want to prove that you have no effect on me as you might think. You are Sam's friend and I am keeping your secrets. That is all. Dare not think of anything else."

He was too quiet that Emma was forced to turn her head and look. A bad move, of course, for her face almost collided with his. He had been staring down at her the entire time.

She was back on that stage, dancing with him, his face drawing nearer. Emma swallowed. Was he going to do what she suspected him to do? To also prove her wrong?

But he stopped. His lips were merely an inch away from her. And he leaned away and like before, Emma realized she had been holding her breath.

Bloody tarnation!

"Samuel will be devastated if you kissed his friend, Emma."

Emma's emerald green eyes rounded in incredulity when his words finally sank in.

Laughter rumbled in his chest and his shoulders shook with it. "Jesting, Emma. Jesting."

Emma elbowed his side, gritting her teeth. "Not a bloody good one."

He stopped laughing. His eyes went down to her lips and back to her eyes. "I was planning for something more serious but feared we would both regret it."

"You must be jesting," she said under her breath, eyes on his lips and back to his dark eyes.

He nonchalantly shrugged. Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked up and Emma thought she heard him murmur, "I'm afraid not."