Felicity was limping out of the alley when Felix came barreling in. He stopped short at the sight of her, and then he was running and she was running – or rather, trying to run – and they were in each other’s arms.

“Felicity. Felicity.” He said her name like a prayer, over and over again, until she was finally forced to press her fingers to his lips.

“I am all right. It’s all right.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath before and searched her face. “I thought…”

“I know.” Rising up on her toes, she kissed his stubbly cheek. “I know.”

“Are ye hurt?” Grasping her by the shoulders, he set her back away from him as his gaze swept down her body. She could only imagine what he was seeing. After sitting in the dark, dingy room she was covered in dirt and soot and heaven only knew what else. Her hair had come loose from its braid and hung down over her shoulders in a great tangled heap. There was a rip in her skirt and her cloak trailed behind her, the hem dirtied beyond repair. “Did he hurt ye?”

“So you know it was Ezra then,” she murmured.

Felix nodded grimly. “I had a feeling. A gut instinct. Are ye–”

“He did not hurt me.” Her mouth thinned. “Although not for lack of trying.”

When Ezra had lifted the pistol and pulled the trigger she’d thought she was going to die. But then the gun had clicked empty, and she’d realized what Ezra had not – the idiot had forgotten to put bullets in the chamber. Taking advantage of his temporary confusion she’d launched herself at him and by sheer dumb luck he had struck his head against the wall when he fell, rendering himself completely and utterly unconscious.

It had taken a bit of time, but she’d managed to untie her wrists and pull the key out of his pocket. He’d been snoring when she left him. Making certain to lock the door, she’d slipped the key in her bodice and walked away.   

“Where is he?” A black storm cloud would have looked like a fluffy white cloud compared to the dark violence in Felix’s gaze. “Where is the bastard?” He started past her down the alley, but she grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

“Leave him. He cannot go anywhere. I want to see my children.” Tears thickened her voice. “I – I want to see my babies.”

Although he could have easily shaken free of her grip, Felix turned and pulled her against his chest. “And they want to see ye,” he said, burrowing his face in the snarled tendrils of her wild mane. “Your mother as well. She’s waiting for ye at Bow Street.”

They met Owen in front of a cobbler’s shop two blocks away. He’d been searching another factory. It had been pure luck that Felix happened to choose the one where Felicity was being kept. Or, as she preferred to think of it, fate.

“There you are.” Relief swept across his countenance as he and Felicity exchanged a short, friendly embrace. “Scarlett would have had my head if something happened to you.”

“Would she?” Felicity said doubtfully as she stepped back. Since their little tiff over a month ago the two women had hardly seen one another. They’d both been busy, of course. She with Felix and Scarlett with her renovations. But there was also tension there. Tension Felicity had never fully understood...until she looked up and caught a quick exchange of glances between Owen and Felix. “You did something. The two of you. What?” she demanded.

“It’s my fault, love. I’ve been meanin’ to tell ye…” Sheepish, Felix ducked his head and muttered, “I may have asked the Cap’n not to let ye live with them if the occasion arose.”

“Why on earth would you do such a thing?”

“So ye would have to live with me instead,” Felix said, as if the answer should have been obvious. “But then ye seemed happy at your mother’s...” He shrugged helplessly.

“We will discuss this at a later date,” she said. Bothersome man. She should have been angry with him, and perhaps she would have been if she were not so exhausted…and his boyish grin was not so very charming. At least it was a relief to know that Scarlett had only been acting with her best interests at heart. Or rather Felix’s best interests, which to Scarlett would have been one and the same given how determined she’d been to see Felicity and Felix together. “Right now the only thing I want to do is see Henry and Anne and get out of these filthy clothes.”

“Where is Ashburn?” Owen asked. “It was Ashburn, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Felicity said wearily, pressing a hand to her brow. “It was. He is in a locked room at the end of the alley. I have the key, here.” Pulling it out of her bodice, she handed it to Owen. “Do with him what you will but…please be kind. He’s a very troubled man.” Beside her she felt Felix tense, but for once he managed to hold his tongue, and for that she was grateful. After everything she had endured, the last thing she wanted was more violence.

“I will send someone for my personal carriage.” Owen stepped inside the cobbler shop, leaving Felicity and Felix alone.

Wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against his side, Felix pressed his mouth to the top of her head before he began touching her back in long, soothing strokes. “If ye don’t wish to talk about it yet I understand,” he said quietly. “But I have to know. How did ye manage it?”

She’d been wondering when he was going to ask.

“Do you mean how I managed to escape?” she said, tilting her head back. 

Intrigued, he nodded. “Aye. Exactly.”

When she told him what had happened he threw back his head and laughed, then squeezed her tight. “Ah, love. Ye never cease to amaze me.”

“Do you know what I was thinking, when I was trapped in that room, staring down the barrel of a pistol?”

Instantly sobering, Felix shook his head and the hand he’d wrapped around her back fell away. “Ye must have been terrified. And it’s all my fault. If I’d known Ashburn had paid off the hackney driver–”

“There was no way you could have known that. Please do not blame yourself. I don’t.” She turned to face him. Stared straight into his bright golden eyes. And felt nothing but love. “When I was in that room, when I feared I was going to die, I thought of you and the children. And I thought of the woman I was before I met you. A woman who blindly obeyed her husband. A woman who was so desperate to be perfect and polite and well-mannered that she forsook her own happiness. And I knew that no matter what happened, I was never going to become that woman again. Because of you.”

“It wasn’t only because of me–” he began, but she silenced him with a quick shake of her head.

“I am not finished. When Ezra divorced me, I never thought I would fall in love again. I convinced myself that it was better to be alone than to risk having everything taken away from me. But do you know what I have come to realize?”

“What is that?” Felix said huskily as he reached out to brush a tendril of hair from her cheek.

“Dresses, cloaks, carriages – even a person’s social standing. They are all material things and they do not matter. Not really. But love…love matters.” She smiled up at him. “The love of a mother for her children. The love of a man for children he’s accepted as his own. And the love of a woman for a good, kind-hearted man. When Ezra divorced me, I did not lose anything. In fact, I was given something. Something irreplaceable. Something I would not trade for the world.”

Felix drew her into a protective embrace, one arm curving around the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek, thumb brushing against the tears of joy shimmering in her eyes. “And what would that be?” he said softly.

“You, Mr. Spencer. I was given you.”

“Felix, love.” A rakish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I think it’s time ye called me Felix.”

“Yes.” Laughing, crying, she flung arms around his neck and kissed him through her tears. “Yes, I believe it is.”