Free Her Every Wish by Courtney Milan

running out of time to save her mother, running out of time to be anything except another drab woman in a drab occupation telling herself she didn’t deserve so much as a halfpenny flower.
    So she took a moment to make sure her dreams were well and thoroughly crushed before accepting the inevitable. What of it? Crash was wrong. She didn’t lie to herself.
    But then Crash had said that she’d lied about him . That was what rankled. She’d thought of that moment when everything had gone wrong between them over and over.
    It had been after…after…
    No, if she wasn’t lying to herself, she could use the proper words.
    It was after they had sex.
    Speaking of stupidity. What sort of idiot was Daisy? He’d told her he needed to leave town. He’d said he would be gone to the continent for months. She’d thrown herself at him.
    She was a first-class fool, and her face burned in memory.
    But he’d been sweet, and it had been lovely, and… And then it had been over. They’d been in bed together, holding each other. She’d been naked and vulnerable and too much in love to realize she ought to have been scared.
    â€œYou know, Daisy,” he had said. “I told you, you shouldn’t have a thing to do with me. Look here. I’ve corrupted you.” He’d kissed her.
    â€œYou never told me any such thing. Not seriously.”
    â€œTrue.”
    She’d kissed him back. “I don’t mind being corrupted, if it’s by you.”
    Now, she could flinch at her gullibility. Then, she’d leaned into him with complete trust.
    He had sat up in bed. “I haven’t explained to you why I’ll be gone yet. I’ve a plan to turn…well, not respectable. But.” He had shrugged. “Something like. I’ve taken risks, but I can’t keep doing that, not with a wife and a family.”
    Her heart had thumped wildly at those words. Wife. Family.
    â€œI need to go to France,” he told her. “There’s a craze building there for velocipedes.”
    â€œWhat are those?”
    â€œThey’re metal vehicles. With foot-pedals.”
    â€œWith what?”
    â€œOne pushes the pedal with one’s foot, and it turns a wheel…” He’d gone on.
    It turned out there was no way to describe a velocipede, not with any number of words. She’d stared in confusion.
    â€œIt will all make sense when you see one.” He’d given her a cocky grin. “They’re on the verge of becoming a phenomenon in France. Give it five years, and they’ll be the rage here, too. I’m going to have the premiere velocipede shop in all of London. But I’ll need to visit factories, learn how to repair them… I’ll be gone a while. Months, at least.”
    Her hands entwined with his.
    â€œThe way I see it,” he said, “you could marry me and come with me.”
    She had inhaled.
    â€œOr we could wait two months for me to go in order to be certain that nothing comes of what we just did. I would return to you as soon as I could.”
    That dose of reality had made Daisy stop and think.
    â€œCrash.” Daisy had leaned her head against his shoulder. “I can’t leave my mother for months on end, and I can’t see her traveling to France.”
    He’d kissed her. “Wait two months it is, then. That is, assuming you’ll marry me despite my terribly checkered past. Will you?”
    In the time since that night, Daisy had examined her response over and over.
    â€œThat depends,” she had said teasingly. “Precisely how many checks does your past have?”
    â€œMaybe one or two.” His eyes had glinted wickedly.
    â€œYou can’t fool me.” She’d leaned in and kissed him. “There must be dozens. I know about the gambling.”
    â€œThat? That’s not really a check at all—just illegal.” He had given her a cocky smile.
    Daisy had