It dawned on Byron one late afternoon when he was in one of the balls he was invited to for the season.

His eyes were on the dancers in the middle of the ballroom.

And the thought simply came to him.

He was looking for her not because he needed answers of why she saved him or of what she was planning.

He was looking for her because he needed her.

He was searching for her for he was afraid for her life.

'Where is she?' was a constant question. Now, it was simply, 'Ellie, please, where are you?'

-Above and Below

*****

Ralph strode inside the parlor with a large grin on his face. He looked at Emma sitting by the window, reading a book.

"Hello, dear sisters," he greeted, taking the settee beside Ysabella. Her sister had in her arms her sleeping two-year-old child. "What an amazing uneventful day, isn't it?" their brother added with a smug look on his face.

Emma glared at him over her book while Ysabella managed to kick Ralph with Gillian in her arms.

"What?" asked Ralph defensively. "It truly is an amazing uneventful day! Levi and Tori have long went home, taking my dear boisterous niece with them. Maggie and Cole and their army of fiends are in Devonshire with Benedict and Agatha. Max took his wife home just yesterday and Nicholas is off to continue his adventures with Sophie." When they thought he would not add more, he said, "And oh, Emma is still hunting for that bastard. With great failure—"

"You..." Ysabella said, kicking Ralph again, "beast!"

"Ow!" Ralph cried out, jumping from the settee. And then he stopped, looking down at the still sleeping Gillian. "Bloody hell, he truly did take after his father, ignorant to everything around him."

Ysabella jumped to her feet, Gillian and all, and Ralph rushed to the door laughing. "I just came by to tell you that Alex will be coming over for tea!"

Ysabella turned to Emma. "Do not mind him."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I am used to his remarks. You ought to have heard Nick before he left."

"Oh, they will get used to having Wynne around."

"If I do find him," Emma murmured.

"The last time, you almost did. You were simply late because Ralph took his time. Next time, you ought to ask William to accompany you."

Emma sighed. She closed her book and looked at Ysabella. "Mayhap I am not meant to find him after all, Ysa. His theatre pops up anywhere in random. They do not advertise through the Herald. And by the time we get word of their whereabouts, it is either too late or they are too far for me to reach on time."

"Worry not," Ysabella said with a confident smile. "Soon, he will start feel comfortable and too confident. He would start to think you have given up and take less precaution. By then, you have to be ready."

Emma shrugged. Her sister could be right.

"Have you read Samuel's latest article?" Ysabella asked. "It was quite refreshing, was it not?"

Emma nodded. "For once, he did not talk about the Trilbys."

"Do you think he is telling the truth?"

Emma thought about her answer for a moment. "I do not know many things about the League, Ysa, but with everything that has happened so far, Sam could be right."

Ysabella shook her head. "Then it is good that Maggie is no longer part of the League. If some of them are indeed dirty, we do not wish our sister to be involved in them in any way. She had a hard time with Aurora. And then the fire happened. She has to focus on Cole and the children."

Emma grinned. "Oh, speaking all grown-up, eh?"

Ysabella rolled her eyes. "Well, I must be, aye?"

She sighed. "Perhaps we all are."

"But not entirely. Let us not lose touch of the childhood."

"Yes, definitely not."

"Now, you wait here while I take Gillian to his nurse." Ysabella stared down at her son. "I am afraid Ralph is rather right. My son takes after his father. He is too ignorant." Emma laughed. "Oh, very well. Alex should be here soon and the three of us could talk more about the next possible route of the elusive theatre."

Emma nodded and watched her sister carry her son out of the room.

She did not know if she wanted children. Perhaps in the future.

But not while her groom was still on the run.

*****

"Dear, would you mind if you accompany me to Dartridge?"

Emma frowned at her mother. "Dartridge?"

"Yes, the village near Henry House."

"You are far acquainted with the Lord and Lady of Henry, Mother. I know your history, remember?"

"Yes, yes. I am not talking about Henry House and the horrid person who resides there. You also know how I am acquainted with the Lord and Lady of Langworthy."

Emma pointedly looked at her mother. "Langworthy is almost three days away from Dartridge, Mother."

"Yes, perhaps," her mother said, tone mysterious and smile excited. "But still, you might want to go with me. Or you might regret it."

Emma cocked her brow. "Truly?"

"Yes, dear," her mother said, tone getting higher with each word. And then she waved a card with her right hand. "Lady Langworthy sent me this."

Emma stared at the card. "And what is that?"

"An invitation to a show—in your case, an occasion and a very special one at that."

Emma threw her book to the side and jumped to her feet. "Careful!" her mother said as she grabbed the card. "It is an invite-only show, dear."

Emma gaped at the card. "Mother! How in the world did you manage to get this! Surely he would not have sent you one!"

"Lord and Lady Langworthy came visiting Lady Lettice a week ago and joined us for tea. She remembered me specifically asking if she knew where the theatre would next appear. She is a fan of the arts, you must know." When Emma merely looked at her with impatience, Lady Alice hurriedly said, "When she got her invitation, she found a way to acquire one for me as well. Connections, dear." Lady Alice was smiling broadly as she stared at Emma's face. "I suggest you prepare right away, Emma. You will have to travel without rest if you want to be at that show."

Emma read the contents of the invitation. It was three days from now.

With tears of joy pooling her emerald eyes, Emma went to her mother to give her cheek a peck. "I love you. You know that, yes?"

Lady Alice rolled her eyes. "Of course."

Emma laughed and turned.

"Bring your nicest dresses!" her mother cried after her.

She would need more than that, Emma thought as she skipped countless of steps up the grand stairway.

*****

Wynne was sitting in a winged chair at the back of the stage, going through some documents as the actors prepared for the show.

He could be in his office, but since they were about to start in an hour, he had to be outside to be available for everyone should they have any concern.

"Have you seen Jordan?" asked Stella.

"No," answered an actor.

"No," answered Wynne.

The actress huffed. "We ought not to have taken him back in. It was a very bad decision." She turned to a crewman nearby. "Go find him. I wouldn't be surprised if you find him under one of our guests' skirts."

Wynne looked up at Stella. "It was your idea to take him back."

Stella rolled her eyes. "Because he is one of the best."

Wynne shrugged.

Stella huffed again. "I should find him myself." She turned around and left in a hurry.

Wynne went back to his documents and merely a moment later did he realize it was quiet. He looked up and found that there was no one around.

"Stella ushered them outside for some tea," a very familiar voice spoke from the right entrance.

Wynne nearly cursed himself. All the while he thought he had everything under control, but he was utterly wrong. His heart would still hammer hard against his chest at the sound of her voice and even at the thought of her name.

He knew she had been looking for him. And he always made certain she would fail.

Yet he was also aware that it would not be for long.

"Go home, Emma," he said, arranging his documents and putting them to the side.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her pull away from the entrance doorway to start walking toward him. His heart hammered even harder. Bloody tarnation! His hands would start to shake if he did not control the situation. "I do not know, Wynne, being back at the theatre seems to feel like I am home."

He snapped his head to finally face her and his breath was taken away from him. She was not dressed in a fancy gown, nor was her hair donned perfectly. He could hardly breathe because she was still the same Emma. She was the same woman he wanted.

"Your mother will be devastated that you are too far away from Wickhurst. Go home."

"My mother will be visiting Sheills in a fortnight," she nonchalantly said. "Our next destination is Sheills, yes?"

Wynne's jaw tightened. "There is no Sheills for you, my lady. You are going home."

"I have decided to leave Wickhurst to become a traveling writer. I did not entirely do all of it for you, you know. It is time I stop merely reading and start writing. Traveling, as what my brother Nick says, can be quite inspiring. Perhaps one day, we can turn one of my writings into a play."

"Bloody hell, Emma, this is not the place for you or your transient ambitions."

"And oh, do not fret about your family. We have reached an arrangement. So long as you keep calling yourself Hastings, I believe we are safe for now," she continued without hearing his statement.

Wynne sighed and looked at her almost pleadingly. In the months that he was away and living his dream, he ought to have mastered dealing with these feelings. "Emma—"

Her emerald eyes stared back at him with happiness. Was she not angry he left her alone in bed in Ulric? Had he not made it clear that they were better off apart? "Emma, you are making things complex by being here."

Her next statement told him she was not willing to continue the topic he opened. Instead, she proceeded to what she came here for. "Now, I know sharing a chamber will mean we must go to Tiny Town first. And I demand that we do the very next day. It is not very far. I would not sleep with you for the second time unwed."

Wynne frowned. "We never made love, Emma."

"Oh, we did." Her lips curved into a smile. "In my head we did many times."

Bloody hell, she came prepared, Wynne thought to himself. He shook his head. "You are being stubborn."

She waved her hand in the air. "I was told a woman in love always is. And I am an Everard, Wynne." She stepped closer all the while keeping him in his place as she looked him in the eyes. " I told you, did I not? If I happen to be in love with a Trilby, I would act like an Everard."

Yes, yes she did tell him. Should he have believed her then?

"You are being impossible." He wanted the statement to come out with a tinge of fury, but it came merely a little louder than a breath.

"No, I am being the other things, Wynne," she said, reminding him of his own words.

It is time for the other things, Emma. It was not long ago that he told her that.

She stepped closer and it was then that he saw something in her eyes. She was happy to see him, yet there were other things she could not say. There was fear. And there was desperation. "Or at the very least—"Her voice cracked as her eyes started to pool with tears. Wynne felt his chest tighten at the sight of her. She cleared her throat and tried again, "I am being the other things, or at the very least a part of the other things."

Wynne felt his own eyes sting as his own resolve started to crumble. He lifted both hands and cupped her face to wipe her tears. The gesture caused her to sigh in relief and blink more tears. She nervously laughed. "Would you dare be a little stupid as I and let me be with you?" she choked out. "Could you?" When he simply bent down to plant a light kiss on her lips, Emma added, "I came a long way to do this after all."

He scoffed. "Truly?" He kissed her mouth again, this time lingering softly, a little longer.

She nodded. "I robbed your aunt in the middle of a road."

He stiffened.

"And made her sign an agreement," she added, wrapping her arm around his neck.

"It was stupid of you," he hissed.

She rose to her toes and kissed him a little longer. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body closer against his—as though it was possible to be one with her. "You left me no choice," she said against his lips. "I had to be the stupid and impetuous one."

Wynne leaned his head away from hers to look at her.

He knew. He had to admit it now. He had always known she would find him and he would let her stay.

Emma moistened her lips. "Well? Do you have a day to spare on the morrow? We could be at Tiny Town by luncheon."

Wynne's chest rumbled with laughter, the first in a very long time.

"And can I stay the night?"

He bent his head and trailed a kiss along her jaw. "This is an invite-only show, Emma," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, I have an invite," she said, "under my mother's name."

Wynne traced her jaw with his lips to find her lips once more. "Then you can stay the night."