England, Winter, 1885
Patrick handed her cloak and his coat to the waiting footman and Bian looked around the grand house. “Have you ever been invited to Lady Grey’s country luncheons before?” she asked Patrick.
“Never. But we are on a lot of invitation lists now that we once were not.” He shrugged.
“Why is that, though? That is the question that plagues me. I do not think it is simply that you are the new Duke, either, for our connection is not public. Yet I am received in as many houses as you.”
Lady Grey herself emerged from the drawing room and moved across the tiles toward them, her arms outstretched in welcome. “It’s so good of you to come,” she exclaimed and shepherded them back toward the room. “I have some special guests this year. I believe you may know most of them, including the new Earl of Salisbury.”
Bian halted and Lady Grey’s hand fell away from her arm. Their hostess turned back to face her, puzzled. Patrick’s face showed surprise, giving way to pity.
Bian cleared her throat. “The new Earl of Salisbury is here?”
“Yes, dear, he is.” Lady Grey’s smile was pleasant, but there was knowledge in her gaze, too, along with an understanding light in her eyes.
“Bian.” Her name was called from the drawing room doorway. Stuart stood there, his hand on the handle, looking tall and dignified in a black jacket.
Lady Grey whispered something to Patrick, who nodded and walked their hostess to the door, past Stuart and into the room behind, leaving Bian alone to face him.
“You knew I would be here,” she accused Stuart.
“I arranged it,” he said flatly, coming toward her. “I had to see you. And since my brother’s…disgrace, there are few places where I am welcome. Lady Grey’s hearth is one of those places. She, at least, does not assume my entire family is tainted because of my brother’s choices.”
“Whereas I seem to have acquired a reputation that opens doors for me everywhere,” Bian muttered. “It’s almost as if someone had been speaking about me.”
“Someone has, behind closed doors.”
“Who?” she said sharply.
“Your brother. And me.” Stuart reached for her arm, then thought the better of it and dropped his hand. “Would you…could we speak alone? “
“You would deign to speak with me?” Bian asked. “The last time we were in the same room together, you looked at me with the same distain that most of England hands to you these days.”
Stuart shook his heads, dismissing her cynicism. “I would move mountains to do speak with you, Bian. I have moved much to be here before you today.” He took a breath, clearly struggling for calm. “Please, Bian?” he added simply.
She nodded and when he indicated the door on the other side of the grand entrance to the drawing room where everyone else had gathered, she walked over and opened the door to the library and stepped through, not waiting for his assistance.
He followed her in and shut the door behind him.
She did not sit but stood in the middle of the library and waited.
He took another breath but did not seem to know how to begin.
“I was sorry to hear about your father,” Bian said instead. “Was it connected with…”
“With Aiden? Yes. His heart was never very strong. The news… It was too much of a shock.”
“At least he did not live to suffer through the trial and the…the…”
“Execution,” Stuart finished flatly. “You do not have to fear speaking the words to me, Bian. Aiden was a traitor and faced the consequences of betraying his country. I miss the brother I had once thought a good companion but I won’t flinch from acknowledging what he did.”
“I’m sorry, Stuart. Sorry that I was the one who brought this upon you.”
“You did not do it, Bian. Aiden did. I will never know for sure why he was so convinced that he was the elder, but he maintained it was so, right up until his last day.” He shook his head, sorrow creasing his brow. “Aiden always wanted power, and looked for the shortest path to reach it. This was just one of his many grievances against a world that would not give him what he wanted.” He took a deep breath, and straightened his shoulders. He look directly at her. “I have been a fool, Bian. A blind, stupid fool.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You have?”
“For a while, yes I was. But I have been thinking rather hard, lately. It was more than overdue, I admit.” He spread his hands a little, as if he was speaking the obvious. “You are the Royal Talisman, not your father. It was you all along.”
She took a slow breath, controlling her surprise. “What makes you say that? Is that what you have been telling people? Is that the reason for my sudden acceptance and popularity?”
“You’re a princess, a royal.”
“For a court and a people who no longer exist,” she amended.
“But a princess, nevertheless. You were the one that gathered the intelligence that kept Britain out of the war with France and China. That is why you are welcome at Victoria’s court, why you mingled with the lords of the land so easily. It wasn’t simply your father’s rank that opened the doors for you.”
“I would sooner not be the Royal Talisman,” she admitted. “It was because of me that the Chinese could find reason enough to execute Richard…my father.”
“Richard?” he said sharply. Then he closed his eyes and said in growing wonder, “Nathanial Richard Kirkham.” Then he opened them. “You came to England to find proof that I had been giving English secrets to the Chinese, didn’t you?”
“You already know that. I didn’t lie to you that night.” She dropped her chin. “I couldn’t.”
“Your father—Richard—sent you here to root out a traitor. But you fell in love, instead.”
She looked up at him, startled. His blue eyes were locked on her face again, just like the last time she had seen him. They gave her no quarter to lie or avoid the question. “I never told you that,” she said carefully.
“Bian, did you think I had not recognized it, anyway? That I did not know? I love—loved—you as much as you loved me. That’s what blinded me. I could feel nothing but betrayal, when I realized why you had come into my life. But that night when you confronted us both, you still did not know which of us was the traitor and you were testing us both. I know it, Bian. I have finally put it all together, so don’t bother trying to hide it.”
“Then yes, I did not know which of you was the traitor,” she admitted.
“You loved me, yet you were prepared to send me to that same noose my brother met,” he added softly.
Tears pricked her eyes. “Yes.”
“Because it was your duty,” he added, moving closer.
“Yes.” She could barely force the word past the constriction in her throat. It was a hard mass of horror and hope, tangled together. “You do not know how I have suffered because of it,” she added.
“Why?”
“Why?” She stared at him. “I was not truthful with you. I lied about who I was, what I wanted.”
“You insisted on fulfilling your duty despite loving me, despite knowing it might end in my execution. Do you not know how much I admire you for that, Bian? How much my love has grown because of it?”
Her breath, her heart, her mind, seemed to seize. She could only stare at him, unable to speak.
He smiled and took another step. Now he was close enough, he slid his hand around her waist. “Would you…do you think you might be able to love me again, Bian? Because I have never stopped loving you. Even if you send me away, I will never stop loving you. You are everything that is great and admirable in this country, everything that will save Britain from crumbling into ruin and I have made sure that every peer, every noble, every Englishman with a speck of influence has been informed of that.”
“You did tell them who I was!” she gasped.
“It may have slipped from me from time to time, when speaking with men I knew were discrete. And they have discrete friends of their own…” He shrugged. “No-one will ever openly acknowledge what you have done, Bian, or your true heritage but they will all know of it.”
She had no adequate response.
“Do you remember the question I promised I would continue to ask?”
She nodded.
“I must ask again, Bian. Will you marry me?”
“You leave me with little choice,” she sighed. “Thanks to your whispers, I have no chance of returning to my old life.” She wrapped her arms about his neck. “Yes, Stuart. I will marry you.”
His lips were firm and warm on hers. It was as if he had only kissed her yesterday but she had missed his kisses, nevertheless. Her body responded with a fervour that she could give free reign and she pulled herself against him, as happiness bubbled through her veins.
He held her a little away from him. “There is one tiny part of your old life I would prefer you maintain,” he said.
“Yes?”
“The men’s clothing you wore that night. I have not been able to forget how you looked in trousers.” He smiled. “And a shirt with buttons that can be undone, one button at a time…”
Tingling in the tips of her breasts and between her legs made her breath grow faster. She glanced behind her, confirming what she had noticed when she first entered the library. “There’s a high-backed sofa there,” she whispered.
“And…?”
“I never did get a chance to fully appreciate yours. Let’s use this one. Now.”
“At once, my princess.”