Anche stared at him. Gerard waited, knowing that there were calculations happening inside the man’s head, just as there were in Gerard’s. This was the moment of bargaining, where he needed to hold back all he was in fact willing to do.
“You should have thought of that before you accepted the task. Now you are a threat.”
“Hold your enemies close.”
Anche laughed. “You are arrogant.”
“Call it what you will, Anche. I value my immortal soul more than I fear your threats.” Inside Gerard felt buoyant, as if the weight of years had been lifted off him. As if the world were full of possibility. As if a man truly could craft his world for himself.
“The barony is off the table.”
“So be it.”
Despite Gerard’s words, he needed to know that Anche would not pursue his threats. He did not want to make his home in England only to have to watch over his shoulder the rest of his life. Giana and Thomas had no true stake in life in England. He could easily move them all elsewhere. Except Jane… He could not predict Jane.
But just as Anche needed to bluff, so did Gerard. He strode to the door and opened it. He looked back at Anche. “I would say it has been a pleasure…”
Footsteps sounded in the hall and Gerard tensed even though he knew it was unlikely to be some attempt on Anche’s part at physical coercion. After all, the man had not known a mere ten minutes ago that their agreement had been voided.
“You expect I will just let you walk out of here?”
Anche’s words were so like Gerard’s thoughts that he merely shook his head with a laugh.
“If you intend to threaten my grandson, I shall have to invoke some consequences of my own.”
Gerard laughed again as he turned to the open space where the Earl of Landsdowne stood, leaning ever so slightly on his cane. At long last, the old man had decided to acknowledge Gerard as his blood.
He had no doubt his grandfather’s appearance was due to some strategic decision instead of loyalty. However, he had learned long ago that one did not turn down payment out of pride. It was time to see just how much power his grandfather had.
Chapter Twenty
Jane waited for Gerard to come to her. He loved her, she told herself. And she made plans. They would go to America, or Canada, or Paraguay. They would create a life for themselves in which no one knew them and there were no old expectations to meet. No ridiculous quests for titles and wealth.
All of those assumed he hadn’t yet achieved that goal. She wasn’t certain what she would do, what he would do, if he had. Or if in the attempt, something had happened to him. But the last was a possibility difficult to fathom. He was so capable and strong, an army in the form of one man.
Her heart ached and she wondered if she could die of heartache. There were so many strands of the tapestry of life at play that she could not be certain what was the reality she was living, what would make a future for them that would not end in misery. And did it really matter if it did end in misery if at least they were together?
The night had been endless, and throughout the day every minute that passed felt like an eternity. Now that she understood how much she loved Gerard, how much she was willing to give up in exchange for a life with him, the not knowing, the inability to take any action, was torture. Sometime in those countless hours, she ripped her Lady Justice necklace from her neck, breaking its fragile clasp, and stuffed it in a box where it would no longer mock her.
She stayed in her room, as if doing so until he came to her could hold back time.
Then, in the early hours of the afternoon, Silvie barged into the bedroom. Jane stared at her cousin, but didn’t move from under the covers.
“The maids tell me it is like a deathbed in here,” Silvie said, pulling open the curtains, “and yet they have no idea what ails you other than a ‘headache.’”
“Go away.”
“But a certain gentleman has not crept into your townhouse in a few days,” Silvie said, settling herself down on the edge of Jane’s bed, clearly with no intention of doing as Jane requested “and you were here last night, so I surmise that the reason lack of such goings on coincides with a mysterious illness is that there has been a lovers’ spat.”
Jane burst into tears. It was stupid to do so. She didn’t feel any more or less melancholia than she had a moment earlier. And it wasn’t as if Gerard and she had actually fought. Yet, simply Sylvie mentioning that there had been a lovers’ spat sent Jane’s eyes watering.
“That bad? I don’t like this Badeau. You are not yourself anymore. It is one thing to fall in love but it has changed you completely.”
“I fell in love and lost my mind,” Jane said with a laugh, sitting up and wiping at her eyes. “But that is hardly his fault.”
“I am not certain about that. Nonetheless, moping about does nothing. Either go to him and reunite or move on. We have been in London for long enough that people will think us rude for not accepting invitations. You do have a duty as my hostess.”
The mere thought of having to exchange niceties and meaningless conversation exhausted Jane. “I don’t want to see any people,” she said, flopping back on the bed. But that wasn’t entirely true. Silvie’s presence had broken the spell of despair. There was still a world outside her imagination, outside this room. She looked to her cousin. “I really don’t know who I am anymore, Silvie. I do things I wouldn’t normally do. I am here in London when I had looked forward to assisting my father in Vienna. I…I am willing to elope with a man whose greatest claim is that he is the illegitimate grandson of an earl.”
A man who was an assassin, who might have added one more soul to his accomplishments.
“I think it best that we have the maid draw you a bath, and then perhaps stroll about in the park. And it is not too late to accept an invitation for the evening, I am sure. As I told you, I loved that soldier because he saw the world. But once I saw it for myself, I didn’t need that love anymore.” Silvie slid off the bed and pulled the rope for Jane’s maid. “Perhaps you need to discover who Jane is now.”
It was an idea that didn’t depend on Gerard. For the first time in days, Jane smiled. The very idea felt hopeful, like a breeze of fresh spring air. Perhaps her old life would no longer satisfy her but there were other interests she had never fully pursued, such as music and art, and she was determined to do so now. She agreed to attend a soiree that evening, a small one that she was certain would be populated with people she liked better than most, and Silvie rushed off to pen their acceptance with excitement.
That evening, wearing one of her new dresses from Vienna, with Silvie at her side and a glass of wine in her hand, she stood in the drawing room of Lord Parrington and his sister, Lady Alinora Aubrey. Lord Parrington was a war hero and bore the scars of his service. But aside from a white line that now perpetually twisted his lips and the bald, disfigured patch on his scalp, he looked every inch the part of a noble hero. Jane had always thought him handsome in an unrefined, purely masculine sort of way. His sister, by contrast, was the epitome of femininity, petite and delicately beautiful, with dark hair and dark eyes. Interestingly, the siblings had hosted Lord Templeton’s wedding last year at their country seat.
Lord Templeton, Gerard’s brother-in-law.
With an imaginary swat of her head, Jane forced away any thought of Gerard. She was here tonight to rediscover herself and her place in society without him.
“Lady Jane, it’s a pleasure to see you back in London.”
A genuine warmth filled her chest at the familiar voice and she turned to greet Lord Carslyle. Though he had a reputation of being nearly as brooding as that ridiculous poet, Lord Byron, he wore a rare smile.
“I’m happy to see you as well, my lord. And yes, I did see your card but I’ve been indisposed. I hope you’ll forgive me for not responding promptly.”
“Jane, I’d forgive you anything.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It was
good to see him. Carslyle was the closest thing to a friend she had other than Silvie. More of an older brother, actually. His presence made her feel almost…as if everything were the way it usually was.
She turned to introduce him to Silvie, but her cousin was a few steps away talking with Lady Alinora.
“Stroll with me.” Carslyle took her arm and made it clear the words were more of a command than a request. Tension thrummed inside her again. He knew Landsdowne as well as Jane if not better considering he was one of the earl’s inner circle, the “Group of Eight.” Was some new scheme being hatched? Had Landsdowne said anything to him?
She rested her hand on his forearm and they slowly navigated the room, moving toward the less populated corners.
“What is on your mind?” she asked.
“I heard, of course, about your ordeal,” Carslyle said.
Jane laughed. “No one else tonight has yet mentioned it. I did wonder at the silence. In Vienna, for a week it was all anyone would speak of to me. Surely Lord Powell’s death has been noted in the last month? His heir notified…”
“Lord Powell was mourned, but I know nothing of his heir. I am more concerned about you. You look well and yet…not what I expected.”
She laughed again. “What did you expect?”
“The indefatigable Lady Jane, who would regale us all of her adventures with the same pragmatism and wit she always has. Instead I see a woman who looks…lovesick.”
She stopped and stared at him, and then realized that doing so would make others notice them and so she started walking again, as did he.
“Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps it is too forward of me to say such, but I have known you for nearly fifteen years and…having suffered the malady, I believe I recognize its signs.”
First Silvie, then Bohm and now Carslyle, as if opening herself up to emotions opened new facets of the people around her.
She took a deep breath. “You are not wrong, but please tell me I do not wear the symptoms of this illness so clearly for all to see. If so, perhaps it is better I go home and stay there until I am well again.”
Carslyle laughed, and he shook his head. “Oh Jane. I think it is perhaps obvious that you are…changed. But not the cause. Who is he? Some Russian princeling? An Austrian count?”
Her heart ached, the past months flashing through her like lightning, illuminating everything, teasing at places in her mind that were not fully awakened and places in her soul that had been sealed shut.
“He is…Lord Templeton’s brother.”
Carslyle frowned, and she knew he was confused because Marcus Templeton had no legitimate brothers.
She waved her hand. “The wrong side of the blanket.”
His eyes narrowed. “You met him when Landsdowne asked you to shepherd Lady Templeton into society?”
She shook her head. “That would make sense, I suppose, but no. I met him in Vienna. He is here in London now. I wish he were as suitable as a prince or count. But enough of me,” she said. “You’ve never told me about this secret love affair. Who was she? When was it?”
“She chose someone else, but that is an old story. What does Landsdowne say of this?”
The very question angered her. Landsdowne was just one man, one very old man who liked to have his hands in everything. She was grateful to him for the assistance he had afforded her, but she did not wish to be beholden to him forever. Or to think that his opinion mattered more than her own.
“The problem is not Landsdowne, it is not even Gerard. The problem is me, Carslyle. I thought I was that pragmatic girl you knew and instead I’ve discovered that I am far more… I chose you, Silvie, Landsdowne, all of society over him and I regret it more every second.”
Having said as much to Carslyle, her own feelings were clarified and she no longer forced herself to stop thinking of Gerard. Instead, she gave in to the memories and the worries. Awake in her bed for hours in the middle of the night, she wondered how he was, what he was doing, if he had killed someone in order to gain what he thought Jane demanded and if, in doing so, he would even receive the title, as she wouldn’t put it past Anche to rescind a promise on some technicality. And, although it had been less than forty-eight hours since she had seen him last, the question plagued her: did he still love her?
She still loved him.
In the darkness of the night, that was the revelation that stunned her the most. It did not matter if she were the old Lady Jane Langley or the new. If she was strong or weak, prompted by reason or love, beset by guilt, anger or shame. It did not matter that he might have already done something she abhorred instinctually, that would likely haunt him longer than anything in his past. She still loved him, still wanted to see him and spend her days with him. To discover all the parts that had not yet been revealed. To help him bear the pain.
She rolled out of bed and changed her clothes, choosing a dress she could easily fasten herself. Yes, it was foolish to an extent to go to see him again at his rooms, but it was more foolish to wait for him to come to her. Someone had to bridge this chasm between them, to bring them both to their senses.
She woke Bohm up. He grunted at her and she left, waiting for him at the bottom of the servants’ stairs.
“Where to now?”
“To the Billingsley.”
“I do not know the finer points of English mores but…I believe it is not the usual to call on a man at his residence.”
Jane crossed her arms and stared at him, as if anything that had occurred in the last months had been usual in her life.
“I shall go and bring him back.”
She couldn’t abide having to wait a moment more and yet, Bohm was right.
“Go then,” she said, and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. “Bring him back.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Jane.”
Jane awakened all at once, and blinked at the glaringly bright morning light. Late morning from the look of it. Then she scanned the room for the man whose voice had ripped her from her sleep.
He was sitting at the foot of her bed, unshaven and tired-looking, that dark hair rumpled, his clothes rumpled as well, as if he had slept in them or perhaps not slept at all.
“You are here,” she said, relief flooding through her. She pushed at her night covers and crawled toward him. He reached for her. “Bohm found you?”
He nodded. “But I would have come, in any event. It was the first moment I could.”
She swallowed hard and clung to him, savoring the strength of his body beneath her hands, that he was there and real. That the long night and waiting was over.
“Jane.”
“No, don’t speak. Let me.”
Gerard frowned.
“It took me too long to realize what was important and what was not.” Her confession, her plea for absolution was jumbled. All the thoughts she had had these last weeks disordered as they left her mouth. “Perhaps it is too late.” How awful for him if she were to tell him now she would run away with him only to discover he had already committed the deed. He would resent her. “Gerard—” She bit her lip, unable to say any more, too full of confusion and pain.
“Let me speak then,” he said. “I want to know what a peaceful life with you would be, in which I can enjoy your intellect and your humor, your view of the world. One in which there are no intrigues endangering you or us.”
He sounded so sad, as if he thought that desire impossible.
“You asked me to run away with you,” she whispered. “In Vienna. I should have said yes. If I could go back in time, I would.”
Gerard was silent and the silence ripped through Jane’s throat, her chest, bared her open.
“I know I hurt you,” she said. “I know I was stupid. Incredibly so.”
“Ah, Jane,” he said on a sigh, She pressed her cheek against his chest and breathed him in. His words vibrated against her hair, against her skin. “You were in an impossible situation. And you were right. I have acted as the tool o
f men who wield political power. The greatest power I have is the ability to disappear.”
“Disappear.” Her stomach lurched and nausea rose up into her throat. What had he done? What had she done that he was at the point of giving up not only on them both but on himself?
“At every turn, you followed me,” she whispered. “Came to me. You said you would not let me go and you meant it. Tell me you still mean it, because this time I intend to follow you. I won’t let you go. I won’t let you disappear.”
Gerard leaned back, took her cheeks in his hands and searched her eyes. He wasn’t certain what she thought he would do but he was holding tight her words in his heart. If she could go back in time, she would have run away with him. She didn’t need a title or position in society. They could create their own world somewhere else, far away.
Twenty-four hours ago when he had stood outside her house at both the highest and lowest point of his life, he had despaired of this. She met his gaze, her eyes luminous, shining with that inner light that was so a part of her. He could burn in that light and accept his fate happily.
“I am done hiding from my heart.” She inhaled sharply and then threw herself against him, pressing her mouth to the curve where his neck met his shoulder, where his pulse throbbed and his skin was soft. “I love you. Gerard…I love you. I am yours, my heart, my soul, my body. Everything.”
Her soul. It was a word that meant so much more to him now than it ever had before. He was no longer an empty shell of a man longing for a family, loving a woman he hoped would help him heal the void inside. Instead, he could come to Jane now as her equal.
“I don’t intend to disappear. In fact, for the first time in my life, in no small part due to you, I can. Jane, I told Anche no.”
She made a small noise and then trembled against him. He took her face in his hands once more and drew her gaze to his. Tears brimmed on her lashes and the twisting of her face as she tried not to cry tore at his heart. Of course, she had imagined the worst, and she had known that it would have destroyed him. And them. He laughed, even though he wanted to cry too, and wiped at the wet trail a tear left on her cheek.
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