January was often London’s most frigid month. This year the cold struck through boots to chill the very bones. Even late in the morning, as it was now, chimney smoke clung in gray wreaths about rooftops and frost painted fantastic pictures on the insides of windows.
Hunched in the warmest cloak she had found among the clothes she’d had Anne purchase from a modest establishment, Desirée pulled the hood lower over her face to keep out some of the snowflakes. And she shivered so hard her teeth clattered together.
White-dusted carriages with windows as frostily painted as those of the great houses in Piccadilly, moved more cautiously than usual over icy roads. Plumes of vaporous breath flew from horses’ nostrils while top-hatted coachmen huddled low into their mufflers and pulled lap blankets beneath their arms. The world was muted and soft. Even the horses’ tack and hoofs sounded as if they’d been wrapped in flannel.
Refusing to listen to Anne’s pleading that she not come here today, Desirée had placed herself on the opposite side of the street with an excellent view of Apsley House. Adam had left Mayfair Square early that morning in his carriage. Determined to see him alone and away from prying eyes at Number 7, Desirée had already been prepared to leave, and had slipped from Number 17 with Anne. She couldn’t risk leaving her companion behind in case she panicked and told Meg what Desirée had done. At this very moment, Anne was waiting inside Desirée’s own coach in the yard of an inn around the corner.
A lady and gentleman, both exceedingly well-dressed, alighted from an elegant coach and walked past Desirée to enter a house behind her. She ducked her head but needn’t have bothered. The couple had dined at Jean-Marc’s and Meg’s houses in Mayfair Square and at Windsor. They had sat at the same tables with Desirée but clearly they saw no further than the plain clothing, which would not be worn by Princess Desirée of Mont Nuages. She smiled and stamped her feet, did a little jig in place.
A band of high-spirited gentlemen who were loudly amused by their own wit strolled along. Some wore starched collars so high their chins were permanently raised. They dawdled and posed and pretended swordplay with their canes. Desirée felt nervous but she reminded herself that it was almost the middle of the day with plenty of people about.
The sight of Anne Williams hurrying in her direction wasn’t welcome.
“Go back at once,” Desirée told her when she got close enough. “If I miss…If my efforts are ruined because you distract me, then I shall be exceeding angry with you, Anne.”
Anne’s lips were blue. “Pray come with me, Your Highness. I cannot imagine your reason for being here like this, but it will not do. And even if you do not care, I must. Your brother would say I am neglecting my post and dismiss me at once. Then I shall be without a place.” Anne slapped her woolen gloves together and stamped her feet. “Please forgive me for my outburst. You will become so cold you are bound to be ill. Let me take you home.”
Desirée shook her head and turned back to watch the entrance to Apsley House.
“Your Highness. I regret bothering you with these things but have you noticed that M. Verbeux’s humor grows worse? You are otherwise occupied, but I note how he is everywhere in the house. He watches us. Perhaps he watches us now and will tell the Count.”
“Hush, Anne,” Desirée said. “You imagine things. Verbeux suffered a great deal in Mont Nuages. Accompanying us back to England gave him a reason to put his own troubles behind him. I’m sure all you see is that he continues to be concerned for our welfare. He is a very kind man.”
“That he is, Your Highness,” Anne said in a rush. “Why I don’t think I have ever met a kinder one, or a more thoughtful one. Why, when we were traveling I don’t know what we should have done without him. There was nothing he would not do for us—for you, that is.”
Anne stopped talking and forgot to close her mouth. Desirée regarded her thoughtfully. This was not the first time Anne had shown particular admiration for Verbeux and Desirée was not deceived by a flimsy excuse to talk about him.
“You worry too much.” Impulsively, Desirée kissed Anne’s cheek. “We shall look after each other and that means that you will not lose your place and I shall not become ill because of being a little cold. I find it exhilarating to be abroad on a day such as this.” She caught sight of a tall man leaving Apsley House. “Anne—please return to the coach at once. Have Barnes bring you some warm food from the inn. And cover yourself with the rugs. I am safe and shall come to you soon. Be off with you. Quickly.”
Still Anne hesitated, but Desirée shushed her and the young woman left, looking back every few feet before making a turn into an alley.
Adam, and there was no doubt it was he, had turned back to speak with someone at the front doors of Apsley House. Desirée calculated how she might encounter him “casually,” where she should position herself to avoid missing him.
He walked toward the flagway.
“’Ot pies,” a ruddy-faced boy sang out, pushing forward the tray he wore suspended from a rope around his neck. “Warm yer up, miss, they will.”
She dropped a shilling in the tray, declined the pie, and slipped around him. Adam stood still, looking first in one direction and then in another as if deciding which way to go.
Breathing harder, Desirée threaded her way between the slow moving traffic to reach the other side of Piccadilly.
One coach drew to a halt a few feet distant and a lady lowered a window. She raised a quizzing glass to get a better look at Adam, who didn’t appear to notice her at all. He had moved to the curb but seemed no more decided upon his direction.
Annoyed at the anonymous woman’s frank interest in Adam, Desirée hurried toward him, drinking in the sensations she got simply from observing his tall, solidly built body in the black cloak he favored. His hat was lowered over his eyes in rakish manner. The cloak was of heavy, serviceable stuff. She would be warm inside it, with him.
“Desirée?” He saw her before she realized he’d looked her way. “Gad, girl, what are you doing here? It’s bitter. Dash it all, that cloak is useless to keep you warm, and those boots? Where did you find the pathetic things? I don’t know how you got here, but go home by the same means and at once.”
She didn’t miss how he looked at her, even while he spoke coldly like the nasty thing he could be. He looked at her with heat in his eyes. Such dark gray eyes, and so haunted. If she hadn’t heard his angry voice she might think that, despite his words, he wanted to see her if only to be diverted from other, deeply troubling thoughts. Desirée drew closer and raised her face to his. “Please don’t be cross with me, Adam. I swear I cannot bear more cruelty than I am already bearing. My family cares nothing for me and I have not one ally to turn to—except you.”
Without warning, he caught hold of her left arm and pulled her so near she felt the tension in his body. “All you think of is your own petty affairs. Do you think you are the only one with concerns? You stand here on this street where the poor come and go doing their best to live, and you think only of yourself.”
Tears sprang into her eyes and they burned. Desirée’s throat hurt and she couldn’t quite catch a breath. He was right, of course, but she was not untouched by the plights of others. “I cannot cure all the ills of the world,” she told him. “I do what I can. No matter, you have no need to know what I do or do not do. I was wrong to come here. Forgive me.”
He pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white at the edges. “Little fool,” he whispered in a terrible hushed voice. “You have no idea the danger you court. You understand nothing of men or the animals that they are. If you did, you would not risk being alone on this very street. This is a man’s world here, do you understand? Women do not come here unaccompanied.”
She swallowed and said, “No, I see, I didn’t know that. I should leave at once.”
“You will not take one more step on your own. Do you hear me? Meg has entrusted your guidance to me so I shall guide you. I wager it won’t be long before you wish your sister-in-law had not made such a rash request.”
She hung her head. “Never,” she told him. “Be angry, but please do not be cruel. What have I done to you for you to treat me so?”
The odd noise he made frightened her. For an instant his fingers dug even deeper into her arm. “I have told you that you are a babe playing with fire—or similar words. Believe me when I say you do not know me.”
“But I do.” Inside her body, she trembled from shock, and from wanting him. “I thought I did. Let me go.”
“I accepted a charge to take care of you. When I give my word it is a bond. Why are you dressed like a scullery maid?”
Would she ever do anything to satisfy him? “I thought you would prefer me to look ordinary. I think you are uncomfortable with useless, expensive fripperies.”
“You mean that because I am a man who doesn’t live as well as your cat, I am to be pitied? You want to make me feel more comfortable by dressing as badly as I do?”
“No,” she said, incensed. “How foolish and rude of you.”
His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and his lips curled.
“You think that because I have been surrounded by men of privilege I admire them?” Heavens, she sounded like a child to her own ears. “Well then, yes, that’s exactly right. Not that you dress badly—I like the way you dress, but I thought you might be more comfortable with me if I appeared like any other ordinary girl.”
“You are not ordinary,” he said, his tone still low, but softened. “You are lovely and regal. Even when you are incorrigible you are lovely. I’m sure a great many other men will think so when you come out.”
“Adam?” A slender lady dressed in a simple but beautifully cut long black coat stepped hesitantly forward. Desirée had noticed her alighting from a grand town coach that remained a few yards distant. “Adam? May I speak with you?” Three sable-edged capes fell over her shoulders and her bonnet was similarly trimmed. She wore a veil but it didn’t hide eyes the color of violets, or small, perfect features.
Desirée looked at Adam and might have cried out at the sight of his face if they had not been in a public place. He no longer saw her. Adam saw no one, of that she was certain. In his mind he had gone to a place where whatever visions he saw tore at him, sucked the color from his features and closed his expression.
“Here, girl,” the tall lady said, looking at Desirée. With a shaky hand she found a sovereign in her reticule and pressed it on Desirée. “My son is the most generous of men but evidently you have caught him by surprise. I hope this will help you. Godspeed.”
With a heart that hammered in her breast, Desirée made to turn away. She would not embarrass Adam by trying to return the coin. But he would not let her go. Rather he loosened his grip a little and turned slowly to look at this woman who said she was his mother.
She whispered his name again and held out her hands to him, but if he noticed, he chose to ignore the gesture. “I have missed you,” she told him.
“This lady,” Adam said to her coldly, “is Princess Desirée of Mont Nuages, not a beggar.”
“You could not know,” Desirée said, narrowing her eyes at Adam. “I am not good at fashion, nor even particularly interested in it anymore. I didn’t think I looked like a pauper but my dress is unpretentious. Thank you for your kindness.” She returned the sovereign, smiling at the woman. “Adam and I have been friends for some years. I am so pleased to meet his mother at last.” How she wished she might meet her own mother on the streets of London and see pleasure on her face, but she had never known how it would be to be loved as a daughter.
“I’m surprised to see you,” Adam said finally. “I was told by some who are close to you that you rarely leave Manthy House.” He emphasized, some who are close to you, and his mother’s eyes glittered behind her veil. “One might think you knew I’d be here.”
“Good day to both of you,” Desirée said, feeling sick and almost light-headed. “I will leave you to your visit.”
Still Adam did not release her.
“No, no, I’m so glad to meet any friend of Adam’s. I’m Lady Elspeth Chillworth.” She offered a hand and Desirée took it promptly. “I have my coach. Could I persuade the two of you to come home for lunch?”
“No,” Adam said through his teeth.
“Your grandmother would be beside herself with happiness,” Lady Elspeth said. “You know how she loves you.”
“Yes, I do,” Adam told her. “And I love her. Our positions are unfortunate.”
“Because you blame me,” Lady Elspeth said. She put a gloved hand to her mouth and glanced at Desirée. “Forgive my outburst.”
Horrified at Adam’s behavior, Desirée tugged at his sleeve until he gave her his attention. She caught at the collar of his cloak and pulled until he brought his ear to her mouth. “This is terrible,” she whispered to him. “The lady is your mother. Whatever your differences, put them aside out of respect.”
He straightened and said, “Her Highness pleads for me to show you respect as my mother. She knows nothing of my family and I hope she never will. It would have been better if you hadn’t come upon me like this. Forget me again, as I shall forget you. Good day.”
Lady Elspeth stepped back. “Yes,” she said. “You are your father’s son. What you decide to believe, you believe forever. So be it, my son, but unlike you, your brother does not have a strong will. He is in trouble, Adam, I’m sure of it and I don’t think I can help him. He will not even tell me what brings him so low.”
“This is unsuitable conversation in front of the Princess,” Adam said.
Lady Elspeth raised her chin and inclined her head. Desirée thought she must be about the same age as Lady Hester but she was much more finely built.
“You don’t know how to trust, Adam,” Lady Elspeth said. “If I didn’t see the openness in Her Highness, I certainly should not speak in front of her, but if ever a man needed a friend, you do, and I see that you care about each other in some way. Is it safe for me to talk in front of you, Princess Desirée, or will you betray my son by making jest of what you witness here?”
Desirée tore her arm free of Adam’s hand. “I would do anything for Adam. He is the best friend I have ever had. I confess that I am deeply shaken by the way he treats you, but I shall not reveal any of this to another.”
Lost, that was how she saw him now. Adam Chillworth, that self-contained and powerful creature was lost for the moment. He concentrated not on his mother, but on Desirée.
“Ah,” Lady Elspeth murmured. “I think I see well how it is here. I shall leave you now. Please consider helping Lucas. There is a strangeness in him which I have never seen before. You were not friends as boys, but I know he loves you—envies you even.”
Adam continued to stare into Desirée’s eyes and she felt as if he were clinging to her, begging her not to desert him.
“I’ve said enough.” Lady Elspeth bowed her head. “I don’t ask you to do it for me, but for your brother’s sake—and your father who loves him so—intervene in whatever threatens him. I know you have also hardened your heart against Gilbert, but he loves you a great deal. It’s just that love has always been difficult for him to demonstrate.”
“Adam,” Desirée said and slipped a hand into his, not caring how unsuitable it was. “Please don’t harden your heart so.”
“Thank you,” Lady Elspeth told her and turned to hurry to her coach.
The maroon conveyance with the elegant coat of arms on its door swept Adam’s mother away but Adam didn’t move. He folded Desirée’s hand in both of his and she saw him swallow repeatedly.
“There’s no need to talk at all,” she told him. “You should be at home where you can be alone.”
He didn’t answer her.
“My coach is in the yard at the King’s Arms. Come back with me.”
“Yes,” he said, a wooden man.
“Come then.”
He rubbed her hand. “I sent my own coach home. I was going to get a cab.”
“Now you don’t need one.”
“I apologize for what you witnessed. The thought of it shames me.”
“Then I am hurt, Adam Chillworth. You and I are companions, aren’t we?”
Once more he studied her face before he said, “I think we are. Fate is a joker, isn’t he?”
He puzzled her but she didn’t ask what he meant. “Mock what I ask you—if you must—this may be a strange time for this, but let’s deal with something right here and now. Do you intend to marry?”
His frown let her know just how odd he considered her timing. “I shouldn’t think so,” he told her at last.
“Good, then we have so much in common and there is no other I trust as much as you. Despite having family, you and I are alone. Let us make a pact to be friends forever, and to help each other forever. If you agree, let us shake hands on it.”
Solemnly, he did as she suggested.
Friends forever. Yes, that’s what she wanted, that and so much more, but declaring a bond of friendship was a good place to start.
He said, “God sent you to me,” and carried her hand to his mouth. With his eyes shut, he kissed her cold fingers. “I am a hard man and I have been a careless man. But I can change. For you.”
As she watched, he kissed her fingers again and she swayed nearer to him. Adam wanted to change, for her? “We can both change—for each other,” she told him. He wanted to make her an intimate part of his life after all. She would have to be patient, prepared to wait until he was ready.
“Come,” Adam said, “let us go to the King’s Arms. Neither of us wants to be here.”
Oh, but she wanted to be here, as long as he was.
“I am blessed to know you,” he said. “And we shall be partners of a sort, at least until you meet the man who will make you a suitable husband. I shall always love you, but I’ll know and understand when we must be friends from afar.”