“Then it’ll be the newspaper,” she said with a shrug. “And—”

“But you may visit,” he squeaked. “Once a month?”

She stopped and looked at him, and he managed a weak smile.

“I can’t keep you out of Cambridge,” he said, looking down at the desk, “but I can dictate who Emily sees.”

If Jane bought a house in Cambridge, that would mean the end of any freedom at all for Emily. Their uncle would be guarding her too closely, trying to keep them apart. And—Jane realized—she couldn’t really carry out her threats. If she did, she’d have no leverage on him. Even Titus might prove dangerous if he had nothing to lose.

At least this way he was negotiating.

“You’ll go to my sister,” Titus said. “You’ll do as she says. You won’t make a scene or a fuss. You see Jane, I do care for your welfare even if you do not. I want you to safeguard your reputation, not throw it away in some desperate attempt to lead your sister down your path.”

“My path.” Her cheeks burned. “For all you talk of it, you don’t know anything about my path. You’ve never tried to really help. You’ve just given me orders.”

He waved a hand. “Spare me the histrionics.”

She caught hold of herself. She brought the shrouds of her dignity about her and glared at him.

“The truth is, Jane,” he said, “that if you hadn’t had me to look out for you, I do not know what you would be doing. Go to my sister. Find a husband.” He sighed wearily. “God, you girls tire me so.”

She would never convince him. “I’ll see Emily every other week,” Jane said. “And she’ll write as often as she wishes.”

“I will monitor the correspondence.”

She’d expected nothing less. She shrugged at this. “You’ll stop torturing her with those dreadful physicians,” she said.

“No. If I hear of someone who can do her good—”

“Then you may speak to me. I’ll want proof—testimonials from former patients who have a malady similar to Emily’s, patients that the physician has helped. The lot of them are far too quick to experiment, and heedless of the pain they cause. And you’ll ask Emily if she wishes to proceed.”

He snorted. “Your sister does not know what is good for her because you coddle her. This is why nineteen-year-old girls have guardians, Jane—to make them do the things they would not choose on their own. Frankly, you’ve just proven that you’re not any better.”

She glared at him. “This is not negotiable, Titus. It is either that, or I will embarrass you. Badly.”

His nostrils flared and he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Very well. Before I embark on a course of treatment, I will…consult.” He made a face as he talked, his lips lifting away from his teeth as if he were a snarling dog. “God. When will this ever end?”

He could claim weariness as loudly as he wished so long as he left Emily alone.

Jane nodded.

“Then we are in agreement,” she said.

“You’ll leave tomorrow.”

By the time she crawled into bed, Jane had lost the ability to make sense of the world.

She had let everyone know that she was not as stupid as she’d pretended. Oliver was gone. On the morning, she was leaving Emily behind and going to live with her aunt in Nottingham. She’d held Titus to a bargain, wresting concessions from him with threats.

She wasn’t sure who she was any longer. She seemed both bigger and colder than the person she had been even a few nights ago.

There was only one certainty in her life.

Even though Jane was tired, she waited, fighting the waves of weariness that threatened to drag her down into sleep. It took almost fifteen minutes before her door swung open.

“Jane?” Emily’s voice was small in the darkness.

Jane turned to the sound.

“Can I—”

Jane didn’t even wait for her sister to finish her sentence. She pulled back the covers, and Emily ducked under them and joined her. Her sister made a mass of warmth under the blankets.

It had been a long time since Emily had climbed into bed with Jane. Not since she was eleven and afraid of thunderstorms. Back then, she would have made her sister a little cocoon out of coverlets to try and keep her safe.

She wasn’t going to be able to keep her safe any longer. She’d done her best, but she knew what Titus was.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you sent away. I just wanted to—needed to—get away. And I kept going. Twice a week, and then three times… I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“How can I not? It’s my fault that this is happening. I knew what Titus was, what he would do, and I still—”

Jane tried to put her finger over her sister’s mouth. In the darkness, she missed and jabbed her cheek instead.

“Ow.”

“Oh, dear.” She converted the motion into a shoulder pat instead. “It’s not your fault, Emily. It’s Titus’s fault.”

“But—”

“He’s an adult. All his mental faculties are in functional order, no matter how flawed they might be. He doesn’t have to be unreasonable; he just chooses it. You didn’t force him to act irrationally. It’s ridiculous to say that you are at fault when he’s the one making demands.”

Emily let out a long breath. “I’ll try to be good,” she finally said. “To reach him with reasonableness.” She laughed. “I’m not sure it’s possible.”

“I’ll visit,” Jane said. “I’ve worked it out with him. I’ll still see you. I’ll be able to slip you money, so that if you ever need it—if you have to bribe physicians yourself—you’ll have it. You have a little more than a year until he’s no longer your guardian. Once you turn twenty-one, there is nothing he can do to hold you here.”

“I know,” Emily said. “I love you, Jane, but…” She swallowed. “Don’t worry for me. I shall manage on my own.”

Jane smoothed her sister’s hair. “Who knows? Maybe Titus will get better.”

Emily laughed. “Maybe. And maybe he… But no. I won’t make fun of him.”

“There’s a plant on my desk,” Jane said. “A cactus. I want you to keep it while I’m gone. So you’ll have something of me.”