She was acting differently, Byron noted.

Most often he would find her looking conflicted.

Was there something he ought to be prepared for?

-Above and Below

*****

Emma realized she made the right choice when she saw the confusion in Samuel's eyes and she could not feel a tinge of regret. She hated that she wasted his time, that she made him wait. But she knew she would live in regret if she ever let this go on for long.

"Why, Emma?" was his deadpan question.

Emma blinked away more tears and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I cannot love you more than a friend, Samuel."

A quiet anger flashed before his eyes. He deserved to be angry and she deserved his fury, she thought.

"I do not care what happened that night. I care not if anything happened between us."

He frowned. "Will you not even ask me?"

She shook her head. "No. The very fact that I cannot remember is enough." She squared her shoulders. "My mind is set. Fret not about my brothers. I will have a word with them."

Samuel ran his fingers through his hair as he took a lungful of air. And when he met Emma's eyes, he said, "Can you hold this off for a bit longer?" he asked. "Em, we might be facing a great tragedy—for your family and I—if we do not find out what the Trilbys are planning. Perhaps you are merely too stressed out. I have been pushing you into a direction you never wanted to take in the first place. It must have put a strain on you and I apologize." He took a desperate step toward her. "Em, we are close. We cannot give up now. Give this another chance, please. And when you still believe we must tell Margaret, I will not contradict. And then you can think about us again."

Emma started to shake her head, staring at him in disbelief.

Samuel pleaded further, saying, "We ought to keep an eye on Wynne. He must have found something here—something they could use against us. Otherwise, why would he leave on short notice? And if you think I would even consider letting anything happen to Fiona, you are wrong. I was merely suggesting—"

"Do you hear yourself, Sam?" Emma shouted, desperate for him to hear her. "What have become of you? How did you let this obsession get to you? The Samuel I knew—my friend—would never agree to the Samuel before my eyes today."

He stood there, gaping at her, as though he could not believe what he was seeing or hearing. "Emma, this has always been me. Perhaps it is you who changed. You have always been brave, Emma. You never saw everything like everyone else did."

"Then you do not know me well enough," she said, voice shaking. "Samuel, I wish you start to realize, as have I, that we cannot have everything we want." She turned her back to him. "I need to be alone. I have things to pack. I am leaving and wait for the Theobald party to end. And then I will tell Margaret whether you wish it or not."

Emma expected him to argue further, but she flinched when she heard the door crash close.

With tearful eyes, she proceeded to pack her things.

She had to go to the only place where she could not be bothered.

*****

Samuel gulped empty the last drop of brandy.

The bittersweet taste did not mellow down the anger brewing inside him and he kicked the liquor cabinet. The glasses shook and slowly returned to their original motionless state.

He slammed his glass on the table and walked over to the window of the study. From where he was standing, he could see Emma being escorted to the carriage by Lady Alice who was looking worried. Her mother was saying something to her but Emma shook her head.

"Why is Emma leaving?"

Samuel whirled around to find Stella Marie standing behind him wearing a curious look in her face. His jaw tightened as he turned to fully face her. "Why do I always find you in places where you ought not to be, Miss Stella?"

She looked him up and down. "My fiancée is still in this household. I was safe from him here the night prior and I figured he is not one who thinks I like such rooms. This is currently the best haven for me."

Samuel scoffed. "So you are saying that you deliberately found yourself here again and said not a word when you came in?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no, my lord. I was here first. I was quite surprised you did not see me when you barged in." She frowned at him. "What is the matter?"

He shook his head. "You truly are an actress," he murmured.

"My concern is genuine." She stepped closer to the window. "Why is Emma leaving? What did you do wrong, my lord?"

"I am not in the mood for your wit, Miss Stella, if you think they are funny," he nearly growled. "And I did nothing wrong."

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug, taking a few steps away from him. "Then perhaps you were merely setting aside some of your priorities—unknowingly, of course. She would not be leaving if you has reasons to stay."

He was not sure why, but he let out a mocking laugh until he tears almost clouded his vision. "What do you know, anyway?" he asked as his laughter died down. "You simply act—"

"I can take merely enough insult from you today, my lord. But go on, your I am quite immune to them."

"Excuse me? It was not I who started this game of insult. I reckon you are the master on the matter."

Stella sighed and lifted her brows, acknowledging his comment. "Perhaps." She looked him up and down again and when her eyes returned to his, she asked, "May I spew another tiny bit of insult your way, my lord?"

"I believe I have no time—"

"You are proving yourself to be just like the many lords and ladies you abhor," she continued to say anyway. "You believe you are the only one who has the power to express your own opinions. You still enjoy your social status and the privileges that come with it."

"Is someone paying you to distract me from something?" he blatantly asked.

She chuckled incredulously and clasped her hands together before she added, "No one has to do that, my lord, for you are causing the distraction upon yourself on your own quite tremendously."

"Then you do admit you are here for more reasons than you lead on."

She waved her hand, dismissing his words. "Oh, I am here for the wine. I heard the Theobalds offer the best in the Town." She offered a mocking smile. "As to distracting you, as I have said, you do it too well on your own."

"How so?" he asked, tasting a bitter arrogance in his own tongue.

"You expect things to work your way and when they do not, you blame others but never yourself for you are too righteous and ideal to be imperfect, are you not?" Stella Marie kept her gaze on him, never wavering, as she said so. "That in itself is distraction enough, my lord."

"Coming from an actress, the speech is quite remarkable."

"I have heard worse insults about my profession, my lord. Yours does not even warrant a bit of a sleepless night." She sighed and looked around the room. "You are not who you paint yourself to be, Lord Samuel, although I may be one of the very few who can truly see through you." She murmured the last few words, but Samuel heard them quite clearly. She offered a mocking curtsy. "I truly meant to assume the role of someone you can talk to for I noticed you needed it. But you do not need anyone for now, I assume. Sulk alone, then, my lord. Emphasis on alone."

With not another word spoken, Stella Marie gracefully exited the room.

He kicked the liquor cabinet once again when the door gently shut behind her. "Bloody hell!" Samuel cursed himself and everyone else.

*****

"So this is why you have very slow progress with the little assignment given to you."

Wynne looked up from his writing to find Ezra leaning against the doorway of his study. Ignoring the man, Wynne continued writing.

He heard his young uncle's footsteps coming closer and Wynne sighed, deliberately covering his work with a blank sheet of paper before glaring at Ezra. "What do you need, Ezra?"

Ezra smiled at him. "Aunt Amelia wishes to tell you that your useless—her own words—assignment is over."

Wynne frowned. "Why?"

Ezra shrugged. "We now know who the Leaguer amongst those family friends of yours."

"Hmm," Wynne managed, leaning back against his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Who?"

His uncle did not seem to believe him. "You truly do not know?"

"Pray tell," he said instead.

"Oh, I am not certain I am allowed to tell," Ezra said.

Acting nonchalance, Wynne shrugged. "Very well. I do not care at all. Is that all? You are here to tell me I am free of familial obligations?"

"Well, are you not going to ask how our dear aunt managed to extract the information?"

Wynne sighed. "How?"

Ezra grimaced. "Eddie is not very good with secrets, I can say."

His jaw tightened as alarm started to rise up his throat. "Where is Edmund?"

"Licking his wounds, I assume. He has learned his lesson, fret not."

"Bloody hell, Ezra!" Wynne jumped to his feet.

"And he is inside my carriage. I intended to deposit him here. If we do not call for the doctor, the young man will die."

"You bloody fool!" Wynne cursed before he shouted for the butler, the doctor and the housemaid all at once.

*****

"And ye think these Trilbys are out te get yer family?"

Emma looked at Alex's father, the head of the reclusive bandits of Meriwether, Gustav, and shrugged. "I am not so sure anymore, Gustav. They did try to harm Maxine but despite that, we have no proof. They claim it was Osegod's doing and they had nothing to do with it. They can be very cunning. To what extent, I am not certain. My brothers whom I am certain know more than I, are not saying anything." She raked her head with her fingers. "I ought to tell Margaret. I should."

"Yer in a dilemma, Emma." Gustav noted, looking at her with serious eyes. "Why?"

Emma shook her head. "I cannot be sure."

"Oh, let me tell ye, lass—yer sure. Somethin's holdin' ye back."

Emma moistened her lips as she shook her head.

"Or someone?" Gustav asked.

"No, nothing is holding me back. I am certain I can tell Maggie anything. But I cannot be certain if the entire League can be trusted."

"'Cors ye can't trust the bleedin' League!" Gustav cried out. "But ye have te tell someone. Tellin' a big bandit ain't tellin', lass. I won't be able to do anythin'. Unless, 'cors, they do somethin' te me Alex."

Emma faintly smiled. "Thank you for allowing me to stay, Gustav. Mother would not have allowed me to return to Wickhurst on my own if I did not tell her I am staying here."

Gustav scoffed. "That 'Ma of yers. What does she think of Meriwether? A safe haven? Bleedin' Everards—yer minds are all crazy!"

Emma chuckled.

Gustav smiled at her. "Yer prettier when ye smile, lass. Stay here as long as ye like, but don't let this information 'bout them Trilbys linger untold fer long."

"All I have are speculations. The man we are certain is a Trilby could be innocent."

"Then why is he hidin' his true self, eh?"

"Doesn't everybody?" asked Emma. "Do we all have something about ourselves that we simply cannot show?"

"Well, I do like ye Everards, but I don't tell 'em other bandits outside Meriwether," Gustav admitted. "But me lass, these Trilbys did many evil things in the past." When Emma simply stared, looking clueless, Gustav added, "They threw away Maxine's mother after she gave birth. Some bandits took her in. One night, their entire village was dead."

Emma was stunned.

"Them Trilbys dinna want gossips. Maxine's 'Pa saved his bastard but he also ought te have saved the mother."

Emma let out a shaky breath. She did not know about this. Maxwell never said anything. Maxine never shared a word. Even Samuel stayed silent over the matter. If anyone else knew, they surely missed the fact that Emma would have appreciated the information as well.

"And 'cors, who can forget what they did te Aurora? The woman was found barely alive in the Dark Forest by Alex. She didn't make it. Osegod paid the price fer it, but there are others at fault as well. The Trilbys were friends with Osegod, lass. That man was evil 'imself."

Emma felt a shiver run up her spine.

Yes, of course.

She closed her eyes and Aurora's face flashed before her.

The woman did many terrible things in the past, but Emma now knew the woman merely wanted to survive. And as Aurora's former friend, Emma failed her in some way. At that time, Emma barely had any idea of the truth. Too many people were involved and they were all intent on keeping their secrets hidden from her, Ysabella and their mother.

It was merely a few year back when she started to piece things together and even then, it was too late. Aurora died, leaving her daughter alone.

Did the Trilby truly had anything to do with it?

Did Wynne know? Was he there when Aurora was tortured? Did he know where Osegod kept her?

Gustav gave her a gentle pat at the back. "I'll leave ye alone te think, lass. Find me if ye need me."

Emma barely heard him.

Tears of anger, regret and even pain started to pour from her eyes.

For the first time, Emma Grace Everard found herself in the most difficult time of her life.

*****

"Stop frowning," Ezra told Wynne. "Otherwise, this man will have to deal with your brows after he deals with this one."

"Shut your bloody mouth for once," Wynne snapped as the doctor rose to his feet.

"He is well. No bones broken..." Doctor Johannes looked over his shoulder at Edmund lying on the bed. "Are you certain it was a squabble?"

"Yes," Ezra easily lied. "I was there to break it up."

The doctor nodded. "One would think the poor man was tortured."

"Well, we shall do the honor the moment he recovers," Ezra said with a smile. "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor nodded.

"I would appreciate if this matter remains unknown to everyone else not in this room," Wynne said, eyes on Edmund who was starting to get restless in bed.

"Yes, of course," Doctor Johannes said. "He needs a long rest before he resumes any of his activities."

Ezra guided the doctor out the door before he joined Edmund and Wynne by the bed.

"Must warn them..." Edmund murmured, trying to sit up.

Wynne pushed him back on the pillow. "You stay here, Edmund."

"No..." The young man could barely open his swollen eyes. No, in fact, his entire face was bloody swollen. "They must know that... the Trilbys know... about Margaret."

"You cannot do it," Wynne coldly stated. "The very moment the family learns you warned the Everards, they will come back for you and they will not be forgiving."

"Wynne, I cannot—"

"Bloody hell, Eddie! You almost died! What? All for the young chit?" Ezra asked, finally showing his anger.

But Edmund was angrier. His eyes were almost as red as his bloody lips and he almost sputtered as he shouted, "I found that young chit being raped by my own father! Yes! I will die protecting her if it means paying for his sins!"

Wynne stood frozen. Ezra took a step back in disbelief.

Weakly, Edmund added, "Why do you think the Everards hate us so much?" He managed a scoff and a groan of agony. "And I am no less than my father. I betrayed them. A few lashings and I uttered Margaret's name."

Wynne swallowed and tried to control the fury building inside him. He brushed aside the innocent look of Fiona in his head. He had to be the thinking person in the room. Ezra was obviously too stunned to even move. "I will have you be taken to Hastings. It is still mine, but it will not be for long. You can stay there. And I will sort this mess you have created." When Edmund just stared at him, Wynne sighed. "It is about time you trust someone amongst the Trilbys, Eddie"

*****

Everyone was back in Wickhurst.

So was Emma.

She tried to avoid her mother and her questions by spending more time in her bedchamber.

"Whatever is wrong, Emma?" asked her mother that morning, but was interrupted when Lindsay barged in, screaming for her dolls.

Emma immediately excused herself with a promise that she would have a word with her mother soon.

It had been three days since she arrived from Meriwether with Alex and Ralph who came by to fetch her upon their mother's orders. And since then, she had not taken the courage to go and speak to Margaret or even Ralph about Wynne and his connection to the Trilbys.

Intending to tell Margaret today, Emma went calling to the Devitt household.

"Emma! You are here! Perfect!" Margaret said. "Whyever did you leave Theobald too soon?"

"I had things to think about," Emma started.

"Is it about Samuel?"

"And other things," Emma replied, nodding her head. "Maggie—"

"You seem distressed. You know you can tell me anything. Are you having second thoughts? Should we cancel the engagement? I will support you, of course. To hell with the brothers." Margaret gave her a quizzical look. "But I am certain you can handle matters on your own. No matter, know that I will be there for you."

"Thank you."

"Now, I am glad that you are here. Cole received passes for Above and Below from someone in the Men of Courts. We have seen it already, but I am quite eager to see who the new actor is. Are you aware they have a new actor to replace Jordan Smith?"

Emma shook her head.

"Well, they do. I have an extra pass. I am certain you would love to see it. We know you love that play."

Emma smiled. "Well, of course."

"Very well then!" Margaret stood. "Do Fiona and Faye know you are here? Oh, they have been begging me to see you. Go and surprise them upstairs while I see to Katie. And oh, Cole is at home but he is currently quite preoccupied. See, the two of us have been reviewing the slavery cases since we arrived. Both of us are about ready to give up. The files are enormous they could reach high up a hole and cover it!" Her sister started to walk out of the room. "Go and be with the girls. I will find you upstairs later for tea! And the play is tonight! I will send word for mother that you will be coming home late!" Margaret's voice trailed away as she left.

Emma sighed. Was it relief that she felt?

Relief that she did not have to tell Margaret today?

But she knew she had to sooner or later before Samuel did something utterly stupid.

*****

Christian Fulke was not like Jordan Smith, but he gave Byron Glocheshire justice.

He was not perfect, but his flaws were naturally charming on stage.

Wynne did not want to be here tonight, but this was Christian's first night in Above and Below.

As the crowd filled the large tent, Wynne hid in the shadows near the back of the stage. Behind him, the actors and crew were in a mess. Everyone was running around doing things. He could hear Stella Marie practicing a line she said she needed to work with the new actor. They merely had three days to rehearse and it was not enough for everyone.

Wynne's eyes immediately caught sight of Margaret Everard and her husband.

And their companion.

His jaw tightened.

He had to forget the kiss, he thought.

He had to get her out of his mind.

But of course, they were only in his mind for his body had something else planned. He just found himself walking to where she was standing. Her sister and brother-in-law were talking to a couple when Wynne grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the group without catching attention from anyone.

She tried to resist at first. He felt it in the way she pulled at her hand.

But when she realized who he was, pulling her away from everyone else was no a struggle at all.

He led her down an empty hidden corridor that led to the back of the stage.

"Wynne, what are you doing?" she asked behind him, voice almost a whisper.

Suddenly, Wynne was back to his senses. But then he could not tell her he had no reason in pulling her away from her family other than the fact that he wanted her.

Here.

With him.

He stopped and whirled around to face her. He was angry—at her and at him.

As he looked at her confused face, he a question popped in his head.

Why did it have to be her?

She took a step back. Suddenly her face was showing a kind of anger he had not seen before. And he immediately wanted to erase it because it was directed at him.

"What?" she demanded, almost in challenge.

"Why are you here?"

"I have a pass."

"Emma, why are you here?" he asked.

"My sister and Cole received passes for the play from a friend at the Courts. They gave me the extra one." She squared her shoulders. "I was not aware I am banned from seeing your play, my lord."

His hand grabbed hers and pulled her toward him, none too gently. He bent his head until their faces were inches apart. "You being here is not wise, Emma."

"Why? Does my presence here obstruct you from doing something?"

His jaw tightened. This woman knew who he was. She was here under Samuel's orders.

But why could he read the fire in her eyes as his own desires?

"Your presence here places us both on dangerous grounds."

"How so?" she asked, voice stern and challenging.

One of them could simply give up and confront the other. But they both knew it would not happen. He could not because it would be too dangerous for him. And she could not because she wanted to catch him at the best time.

"Where is Samuel?"

"I do not know."

She was lying. "You are lying."

"I truly do not know and I do not bloody care," she said through gritted teeth.

No, she was not lying, Wynne realized.

And before he knew it, before they even realized it, he was kissing her.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Her arms were around his neck and she was on her toes, straining to get closer.

They had only kissed once but this felt like their hundredth.

The worst part was they barely scratched the surface of the yearning.

They could if they wanted to, but reality was merely a wall away.

Wynne pulled her against him as he leaned against the wall, his mouth exploring hers the way he explored the depths of his characters. It was sweet, a tale of its own. The longer he explored, the more he learned the complexities of it.

He had written hundreds of thousands of words in his lifetime and yet none of them could come close to describing his intoxicating need for this woman.

And the pang of pain.

Pain.

Wynne suddenly stopped and gently pushed Emma away. He looked into her confused eyes and cupped her face. There it was again. The pain blustered inside his chest and tingled down to his fingertips.

He did not like it for he was not used to it.

And bloody tarnation, this woman was causing it.

He let out a shaky breath. "Bloody hell, Emma, why are you here?" he found himself asking in barely a whisper.

"Margaret and Cole were invited by someone from the Courts. They had an extra ticket and gave me one knowing I love the play." She merely repeated her earlier reply.

The very sound of her voice caused another aching current to run through him.

Why?

Wynne did not have to ask why. He knew why.

A lump formed in his throat. And his bloody eyes were starting to sting.

He pulled her toward him and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"Wynne, I have to go. It is wrong for me to be here," Emma murmured against his chest.

"Just a little longer, Emma," he murmured, closing his eyes, trying to dissolve the tears. "This could be our last moment together, see?" he said, trying to jest and knew he failed. It was not even bloody funny.

He felt her stiffen in his arms.

"Are you talking about your plans to move away from Wickhurst?"

"Hmm," was all he could manage.

"Then is this your way of saying goodbye?"

He did not answer for a while. "This is my way of saying I just had what they would call an epiphany."

"An epiphany? Of what?" She tried to look up, but Wynne held her head back against his chest.

He planted another kiss on the top of her head. "You would not believe even if I told you."

She remained silent and Wynne wondered if she knew.

No, of course not.

Because why would it ever cross her mind that the person she thought her enemy was in love with her?

Taking a lungful of air, Wynne loosened his hold and gently pushed Emma away. "Go, Emma," he said. "I have a play to direct. You have a play to watch."

She stood there looking at him, studying him.

Wynne swallowed and looked away.

She always saw through him and tonight would not be the perfect time for that.

He bent down and planted a long, lingering kiss against her mouth. Then he whispered in her ear, "Go," before forcing himself to do the same.

He was certain she was still there, standing in the middle of the dark, narrow corridor.

The pain struck him once again.

He was in pain like a bloody fool and he now knew why.

He was walking away from the woman he loved.

Because he knew he could not bloody have her.

*****

Wynne decided to return to his office to collect himself before he gathered everyone around for one last instruction. Nearly all guests had settled down and were ready to see the play. He could not afford to be distracted tonight.

But when he found Ezra pacing inside his study, Wynne sensed that tonight was not his lucky night.

Ezra seemed rather conflicted and could not even wait for Wynne's question and said, "I am here because I was tasked to watch Margaret Everard and Cole Devitt."

"Under whose orders?"

"Noah," Ezra said, looking serious.

Wynne frowned. "And what precisely are his orders, Ezra?"

Ezra chewed on his lower lip and looked around the office.

"Ezra, what were his orders?" Wynne repeated sternly.

"I have to make certain the couple stays until the end of the play."

Wynne froze in alarm, his mind racing to possible reasons as to why their uncle wanted Margaret and Cole to be here.

"Who sent the Devitts the passes for the play?" he demanded.

Ezra shook his head. "All I know is that they would be here." Ezra looked at him. "He is not planning something drastic such as burning this place down, is he?"

"No...." Wynne rushed to his table and scribbled a quick note. He folded the paper and went for the door.

"Wynne, where the bloody hell—"

Wynne looked over his shoulder. "The Devitts did not bring their children here, Ezra," he said, running toward Stella. "Give this to Margaret Everard. You know who she is."

"Yes," Stella said, looking confused. "Wynne, the play is about to start—"

"Start without me," he said. "Stella, see that the note reaches Margaret Everard. Now."

He looked over his shoulder at Ezra. "We have to go."

"What? Where?" Ezra cried behind him.

Wynne whirled around to face the man. "Our dear uncle wants Margaret and Cole away from home."

It finally dawned on Ezra and they both started to run.