His brows rose, the heavy chair screeching as he lunged up.

But Eliza was quicker. She lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed the contents down in a painful gulp. Bitterness filled her mouth, her breath stopping short. Lucien may have shouted. She did not know. She was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Loneliness was much easier to bear when he hadn’t felt a thing. Adam had been numb, and life had been tolerable. Now, loneliness was an agony of the soul. It shredded his heart and bled into his limbs. Eternity stretched around him as a dark and bottomless hole. And he felt as though he were forever falling.

A king alone. And wasn’t that quite pathetic? True, he had his subjects here, and Lucien often came for a visit. And because Adam could no longer tolerate being alone with his thoughts, he’d let Daisy Ranulf and Mary Chase come round as well. Which was all very good. But they were not her.

Slumped upon his chair – the very same version of the chair he’d last made love to Eliza upon – he toyed with the stem of his glass of port. Eliza. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about her. But she was his every thought. His waking breath. His endless torment.

“Lord above but you look worse for wear.”

Adam’s blood stilled within his body. For a moment, he could not breathe. No. It was just a trick of his mind. She couldn’t be here. It was impossible.

“I see,” said Eliza’s voice in his head. “You’re going to ignore me now? How very ironic.”

Adam’s fists clenched reflexively. He forced his eyes open. And promptly lost his wits. The glass toppled to the floor, shattering upon impact. He paid it no mind.

There, dressed in a simple gown of deep brown, stood Eliza May. As a man starved, he drank in the sight of her. Lamplight caught the golden filaments of her hair and highlighted the cast of her creamy skin. Her wide, brown eyes gleamed, alive and quick, and the gentle curve of her cheeks were flushed.

When he did not speak, she propped her fists upon her lovely hips and narrowed her eyes. “Has the cat got your tongue? Say something, for god’s sake.”

It was the fear in her eyes, and the hurt lingering beneath it, that gave him his voice.

“You… you’re… here?” Very intelligent, that. But Adam was at a loss for words. In truth, he wondered if he might soon weep. Perhaps it was a dream. If so, let me never wake.

“Would you rather I leave?” She made as if to turn away.

“No!” He nearly shot out of his chair but found he could not stand. His legs, nay, his entire body was all at once weak as a babe’s and yet heavy as a stone.

Eliza let out a small breath. “Right. Well then… yes, I’m here.” She winced, her cheeks coloring a bit. “Haven’t you anything to say?”

Adam licked his dry lips. “How did you…” He trailed off, afraid to ask. Afraid this was all an illusion of his desperate mind.

“I drank a glass full of cyanide.”

“Jesus Christ.” Adam smashed his fist against his chair. “How could you —”

“Well I had to, hadn’t I?” Eliza shouted back. “How else was I to get to you?”

“You died.” His voice broke, and he took a deep breath. “To get to me.”

Eliza shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel dead at all. I feel quite fine, actually.”

Adam dragged a hand over his jaw, the action sending a rasping sound into the silence. Heat and need and hope were a volatile mix within his veins. “Eliza,” he said, carefully. “You can’t go back.”

Her lovely brown eyes darkened. “I know.”

Again he swallowed, his body trembling. She was here. Here. He was not alone. No more.

“Why?” It came out a rasp. “Why come for me?”

No one had sacrificed themselves for him. Nor claimed him. And though he suspected, hoped, he needed to hear the words.

Her golden locks tumbled about her shoulders as she shook her head in apparent exasperation. “Because, you thick-headed man, I love you.”

Adam’s heart seized, terrible joy swelling within him. “You…”

Eliza tilted her head, her brown eyes narrowing. “Would it have made a difference if I had said it before? Would you have wanted me then?”

“I’ve always wanted you. I always will.”

Absently, she nodded. “And do you —”

“I love you,” he shouted, his voice wild, not his own. “Utterly. With all that I am.”

At this, she frowned. “Then why do you sit there, as if made from stone?”

He gave a disjointed, weak laugh. “Madam, I fear I’ve lost the ability to move. You’ve rendered me senseless.”

A slow, pleased smile curved her lips. “Mmm. I must admit, I rather like you at my mercy.”

With a groan, Adam launched out of his chair. In two strides, she was in his arms, her slim, warm length pressing against him. The action soothed him to the core, and his soul lit up with a sense of rightness and of peace. Finally, peace. Tears burned in his eyes. And then he claimed her mouth. Sweet, soft, luscious Eliza May.

She wrapped herself around him, her tongue seeking the same comfort. God, to kiss her again. It was better than anything else in this world or the other. He’d endure every single century all over again if he knew this waited for him at the end.

“Mercy,” he whispered against her lips. “Have mercy on me, sweet Eliza.”