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in such a hurry to leave Freeport?”

“We don’t have to answer your questions!” Renard snapped.

“Renny, dearest, we at least owe them an explanation.” Amara sat up, rubbing at her red eyes. Renard offered her a handkerchief, which she dabbed at her cheeks and nose. “My guardian, Uncle Cyril, does not approve of the love Renard and I bear for each other. He wouldn’t even let us lay eyes upon one another, so we eloped.”

Nyssa resisted the urge to roll her eyes.Characters in penny dreadfuls show more sense than these two.

“As I am only seventeen, Uncle Cyril believes he can drag me back home,” Amara continued. “That’s why we’re running away, to San Azula, where he will never find us.”

“And it seems you planned this escape brilliantly,” Ellis said. “The whole passports and tickets part, especially.”

“We had no other choice.” Renard’s expression darkened.

“How about using your own funds and your own passports rather than taking what you need at gunpoint?” Nyssa narrowed her eyes at him.

“We were desperate.” Amara clasped her hands together. “Please, you have to understand. You must know what it’s like to be young and in love.”

“I spent my teen years trapped inside a massive computer, so not really,” Ellis said.

The young couple stared at him.

“Ignore Ellis. He gets cranky when confronted with stupidity,” Nyssa said. “Whatever reason you two had for what you did, it doesn’t change the fact that we needed those passports and tickets as much as you did. Couldn’t you have worked it out with your uncle? Or waited until you were eighteen and didn’t need his approval?”

“You don’t understand. My uncle is awful. He wouldn’t even let me see Renard.” Amara took her lover’s hand. “Every moment without my Renny is torture. To survive another year without him …” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “And now, if he catches us, he’ll have Renny sent to prison and never let me out of the house. We’ll never see each other again.”

“It’s not our fault you—” Nyssa stopped when Ellis touched her hand. Something in his face had softened. She stooped closer to him and whispered, “You aren’t falling for this production, are you?”

“I may not know much about being young and in love, but I do know a thing or two about parents thinking they can make choices for you.” He frowned. “It’s rotten.”

Nyssa nodded. Ellis’s father had been determined to “fix” his son’s handicap, to the point of experimenting on him against his will. Their history was still a frayed wire, one Ellis had mentioned rarely since they’d escaped the capital.

He turned his kind eyes on the thieving couple. “Look, we aren’t going to turn you in, but Nyssa is right. There are now four of us traveling on two tickets.” He glanced from Renard to Amara. “I think our one saving grace is that we’re all roughly the same age, and Nyssa and Amara are close enough in appearance that we may be able to pass them off as the same person if we avoid close scrutiny.”

Nyssa recoiled. Amara’s bottom lip, stained a perfect red in contrast to her alabaster skin, dropped.

“You have got to be kidding,” Nyssa said. “We look nothing alike.”

Renard tilted his head to one side. “Actually, I see it. Same chin and nose. It’s kind of uncanny.”

“You’re both pretty, petite brunettes,” Ellis said. “The rest is just costuming.”

Nyssa’s face warmed. She couldn’t remember being called pretty … not since her parents died, anyway.

“A lot of costuming.” Amara sniffed. “She looks like she did her hair with a salad fork.”

Nyssa’s jaw clenched. “Shut up, china doll. I’m not the one robbing people in dark alleys.”

Amara winced and lowered her eyes.

“You said the passports are in your bag. What about the tickets?” Ellis asked. “Hand them both over, please, as a sign of good faith.”

Amara opened her purse. She held the passports out to Nyssa. Renard grudgingly reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the documents. He shifted from one foot to the other. “So the four of us will share this one room?”

“It looks like that’s our only option,” Ellis answered, pocketing the tickets.

Nyssa glanced around the tiny room. She’d been in close quarters before in her reform school, sharing a small space with a dozen other preteen girls. Still, four people, two beds.

“We can discuss details later. I’m going to find a steward, arrange for some food, and get Nyssa’s satchel and my suitcase.” Ellis rolled out the door.

Nyssa sat on the empty bed. Amara leapt forward and snatched the black handbag. Then she retreated, clutching it to her chest and glaring at Nyssa.

Nyssa swallowed a gape.

Is she suggesting I’d steal her stupid purse? I’m not the thief in the room … not anymore, anyway.

“I’m going to go help Ellis,” Nyssa said, forcing her voice level.

As she left the room, Renard’s gaze followed her, dark and suspicious. She was relieved when the door shut between them.

Once in the hall, she ran to catch up with Ellis.

“I don’t trust them,” she whispered. “They’re hiding something.”

Ellis glanced up at her. “I agree, they aren’t the most reliable pair, but they hardly seem dangerous. What do you think they’re hiding?”

“I don’t know, but you should’ve seen Renard’s expression, glaring at me as if I were the one stealing his stateroom.”

Ellis laughed. “I’m pretty sure he’s just annoyed that he and his blushing bride won’t have their privacy for the next few days. I can’t really blame him for that. Four’s definitely a crowd on a honeymoon.”

“I guess,” Nyssa mumbled. Still, the hair on the back of her neck prickled at the thought of Renard’s scrutiny and Amara’s ferocity over her handbag.

I’m keeping my eye on those two, honeymoon or not.

Chapter Five

Nyssa sat at the end of the bed, clutching her satchel against her chest. A wheeled cart with a tray of baked goods and a pot of tea sat in the narrow space between the beds. Ellis had already devoured three muffins, but Nyssa couldn’t bring herself

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