A Thousand and One English Nights (Book Three of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Sixty: Happily Ever After

At first, Ellini was frightened, but that was only because she was thinking in storybook terms. It seemed as though the handsome prince had come to claim her, and she had to live happily ever after, whether she liked it or not.

And was that terrifying because she'd just been looking up at his evil counterpart – Bluebeard or whatever – and thinking she'd quite like to be claimed by him instead? No, perhaps not. Hopefully not. It was because she didn't want to be claimed by anyone – because 'Happily Ever After' seemed like death. Mari Lloyd had got that right.

But when she looked at him again, standing there with his hat in his hands and his eyes misted over, she realized he wasn't the handsome prince. He was just a boy, perhaps no more than twenty. It was funny that she'd never noticed his youth before. Maybe it was because he looked like his music when he was seated at a piano, and his music was timeless and ageless and grand as a mountainside.

Ellini's heartbeat slowed a little. She managed to return his smile. "I suppose I owe you an explanation," she said.

He was still misty-eyed and beaming, but now he blurted out, "You don't have to say anything you don't want to. You just have to be."

Ellini winced at this. Why did she have to inspire all this alarming directness in people? She couldn't abide directness. She much preferred misdirection – something Jack had always been very good at, of course.

"I'll tell you everything," she said. "I'd like to tell someone everything. I've told so many lies and half-truths to so many different people that it's getting quite hard to keep track of who knows what. But if you don't mind, it can't be here and now. I have friends waiting for me." She paused, remembering that she was supposed to dispense with the lies and half-truths. "Well, not friends, but it would be rude to keep them waiting. I'll meet you at The Birdcage in the town square at five o'clock tomorrow. They have a piano in their parlour. Perhaps you could play for me while I talk. In fact, I think that would help."

For the first time, the smile left the boy's face. Perhaps he didn't trust her to come back. It was fairly obvious now that, for all those months he'd spent playing penny-gaffs in London's grimiest suburbs, he'd been looking for her. Now he had finally tracked her down, and it looked as though she was trying to slip away again.

In order to pacify him, Ellini did something very stupid. She made a storybook gesture to the fairytale prince.

"Here," she said, taking off her black velvet choker and handing it to him. "I'd never leave town without this." 

She meant it, too. It was the one remnant of her Charlotte Grey costume, the only aspect of her dress that she didn't allow Robin to dictate. When she wore it, she felt confident and connected to her sisters again. "I'll collect it from you at the Birdcage, I promise." She saw his smile reappear, and added nervously, "I'm Ellini Syal, by the way."

"Elliott Blake," said the young man. 

"Oh yes," said Ellini, realizing with a jolt that she'd heard the name before. "I've read about you." 

It had been back in Oxford – in the days before Robin had been around to hide the papers from her, and the only news she had been avoiding was the progress of Jack's relationship with Mrs Darwin. Elliott Blake, the virtuoso pianist from America. The best thing since Franz Liszt. 

"I, uh... I expect you've read about me too," she added, with some trepidation. 

The young man blinked at her. "No." 

"You haven't?" she asked, hardly daring to believe it. "You haven't read Helen of Camden?" 

"No." He was looking at the ground, red-faced, as if he was ashamed to admit his ignorance. But Ellini beamed at him.