EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

Jahleel walked deeper into the maze with Katherine. “It seems, Lady Hampton, that our bet is a draw. Lord Mark and Miss Wilcox have married. And will again in the morning.”

“A Cossack wedding? At least I know it’s not just some lie you toss to women in need.”

“Yes, it’s true. A Cossack divorce is just as simple. A groom stands in the middle of a public square and declares he no longer is loved. That his mate is dead to him. Remember?”

“The bride can too. Right?”

He refused to answer. Tonight was about Georgina and Mark. “Your sister looked very happy.”

“Yes, she did. I hope they are happy forever. Young love is like that.” Katherine stopped moving and turned her lovely countenance to the night sky.

Time had been kind to her olive face and figure. The gown Jahleel designed showed the delicate woman that mourning rags hid.

When she looked again at him, he could drown in her jet eyes. Could he truly blame Tavis for wanting Katherine? Her zeal and passion gave her power to break any man.

For a moment, Jahleel was ready to be broken again and reformed into a man she could love.

Yet, he wasn’t so young anymore.

Time hadn’t been kind. His body was weaker. He’d become slower and more deliberate. It wasn’t a fair fight. He could be easily defeated by a determined Katherine Wilcox Palmers.

“Thank you for helping them, Jahleel.”

He blinked twice and almost tugged his ear. “You’re welcome. The two are genuinely honest souls. They deserve joy.”

Chuckles. “Honest, Jahleel. That’s not a word I thought you knew. That cartoon could’ve been us in the music room and you trying to make me kiss you.”

“It looked nothing like us. But it proves that London is still a difficult place for our love.”

She wrenched at her neck like there was strain. “Well, now that we’re dressed alike, like the happy couple of a Cossack ball, the Duke of Torrance and his mistress, I wonder which couple Gilroy will draw.”

“I suspect the svoloch Prahmn, the bastard of Grosvenor Street, will be in all the papers.” Unable to watch her suffer, he asked, “Headache?”

“A little.”

He lazily fingered her temples, making his thumbs smooth her skin and relieve her pain. Yet, Jahleel marveled at how a work of perfect cold marble could breathe.

She looked indifferent, but her eyes shut. Katherine didn’t turn away. “I suppose their union was inevitable. The two chose each other. No one ran. They will be better than—”

“Than us?”

Startled, she put her hands to his waistcoat and pushed away. “Still too easy for you to charm me.”

“Let me be charming. And I must say your fingers on my chest have always been a delight.”

“Nyet,” she said. “No delighting. I want a chance to repay the loans. I want to try and rebuild what my father created. I want out of our silly wager.”

“Oh, Katherine, I had so much hope in winning. I want to see how cavalier you are catering to my needs.”

She huffed but kept her beautiful countenance smooth. “It’s silly to bet. We were arguing. We lost—”

“I’ve never lost but once. I don’t intend to lose again.” He walked deeper into the maze.

And she followed, like a bee searching for a place to sting. “Jahleel, let this be over. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

He didn’t stop until he was deeper into the maze. The high walls added privacy and an intimacy that the two hadn’t shared in forever.

“Jahleel, please.”

“You don’t need to be concerned. We are even. Georgina chose Sebastian. From the onset of our wager, we said that would mean a tie. Whoever chooses the husband for Scarlett will be crowned a winner.”

“Why? Why can’t you be generous and let us stay tied?”

He spun back to her and glanced at her hurting eyes, gaping at Jahleel like all of this was his fault. “Our bet was for the two sisters. We have one left. And I like this bet. We’ve been civil, and I adore every moment the Wilcoxes come to Anya House. With no bet, there would be no reason for you to visit. Unless you had a reason to keep coming to see me?”

Her chest rose and fell, but she did not answer.

Why was she so afraid of feeling anything for him? “I’m attached to the Wilcoxes. I want Scarlett and Lydia to have all the things they should’ve had if your heart had stayed true to me.”

“You’re bitter? Remember, you left me.”

“It was to be a moment. Katherine, you shouted out at me that you didn’t love me. You took back our Cossack vows. How is that my fault?”

“I yelled it, and I’m not free. You’re still in my life.”

“Then leave me Scarlett and Lydia. And go live your life alone. Take Wilcox Coal and make it a success or run it into the ground. Do all the things you wanted to do if you hadn’t the responsibility of younger siblings or a foolish lover. I remember your complaints, how you feared the responsibilities thrust on you too soon.”

“That’s not fair.” She balled her fists, looking gloriously mad. “I’ll not shirk my responsibilities.”

“No one, least of all me, will ever hold you back from what you want.” He waved his hand at her, pointing her toward the way out the maze.

“You’re dismissing me like I’m a servant?” She came very close to him, breathing hard, smelling of roses, letting him count the gold flecks in her dark eyes. “Why are we fighting for custody of people you have no claim upon?”

“Open your eyes, Katherine. I’ve staked a claim. I made a promise to Tavis to take care of all of you. Now I’ve made promises to each of the girls. I’ll never abandon them, which means I can never abandon you.”

He’d blame the roses or the way she stood up to him for drawing him closer, like a fly to a spider’s web.

How could she still drive him wild and not know the torment he endured not kissing her, not hearing her say she still loved him as he loved her?

Knowing Tavis lied about Jahleel, that he confused her, kept Jahleel going and hoping for the day she wouldn’t keep slicing his heart with her frowns.

Yet, here he was clinging to her thorns hoping for nectar.

Stiffness set in, his limbs ached. He flexed his hands for relief. He’d need to sit, to rest before she saw how weak he was.

“I guess it’s my fault, as always. Or maybe it’s no one’s that we’re here and you hate me. Does the past consume you so much that you aren’t willing to let me help your sisters?”

“Jahleel—”

“You forced a man who gave up betting into this gamble. Finish the wager, Katherine.”

Her breath came in spurts as fury lit her face.

He held up his hands. “You have a whole year to try to repay me. See, I’m generous. But you and Scarlett and Lydia will continue to visit. I’ll get Scarlett prepared for society. Perhaps she’ll be presented at court. Our wager is still on. Or forfeit and just marry me.”

She balled her fists and hissed, “You’re impossible.”

“Marry me now. I’ll have two licenses in the morning. And we can walk back into the ball and declare in public that we are man and wife again.”

He touched her warm apple cheek. “You can decide when you wish to visit my suite. The one I had prepared for you is presently occupied.”

“You’re still plotting. You think I will surrender.”

“Yes, sweet dorogaya. My lovely sweetheart.”

Katherine didn’t pull away, but she did take his cold hand and shake it. “Good. I have a year to repay you. Then, one way or another, I’ll be free. I will leave you this time, and it will be forever.”

She picked up her skirts and withdrew, walking back toward the house.

“Good night, Lady Hampton. When you check on Lydia, kiss her brow for me. I love her so.”

The fiery woman stumbled. Then she straightened. “Good night, Your Grace.”

Jahleel let her go. Katherine Wilcox Palmers had her own secrets, and he was more determined than ever to discover them. A year was enough time to find them all.

* * *

With his hand feeling more numb, Jahleel went to his study. He passed Mr. Steele, who’d begun to have his team of servants pick up the glasses and litter his party, with the guests numbering three hundred, give or take a prostitute, had created.

“Will Anya House live, Mr. Steele?”

“Yes, sir. This was a good one. Feel proud. Be proud of your Wilcox family.”

Jahleel liked the sound of that, his Wilcox family. “Good man, do not stay up too late. You can have everyone clean in the morning.”

“You run your business. I’ll see about this house.” Mr. Steele laughed, and then returned to the drawing room.

A light was on in Jahleel’s study.

Guests?

Or a special one. Had Katherine changed her mind?

His heart skipped five beats, and he hit at his chest to make it work.

Opening the door, he didn’t find Lady Hampton. A rush of disappointment hit.

“Miss Scarlett Wilcox, shouldn’t you have retired upstairs? The party is over. The maid assigned to your care is waiting to assist you.”

One of the walrus-tooth carved rook pieces of his new chest set sent from Kholmogory dangled in her fingers. “I had to speak with you.”

“You could do so without rummaging through my desk.”

She dropped the piece, this one shaped like a ship. It fell on his blotter but didn’t break the mast. “Sorry. But you have a lot of these games.”

“I like chess, not games.” Jahleel slipped inside. “Perhaps I’ll need more if you continue to be clumsy.”

Scarlett lowered her eyes for a moment. “I’ll be leaving Anya House early. I shall be dressed in men’s clothing. I don’t want anyone to say a word about this.”

Stretching his hand, wriggling his fingers, he closed the door. “Why is your choice of attire my concern? I’d probably only object if you possessed a hideous cravat knot or something.”

“Mr. Thom helps me get away to do my research. This is Anya House. Your rules. Your servants. Mr. Steele is everywhere. He will tell if I don’t have your permission.”

“This visit, Scarlett, will it get you killed?”

She stood up fast from his chair. The beads of her aurora-red gown jiggled. “No. I’m not signing up for war.”

“Will it get you compromised? We just had a devil of a time clearing your sister’s name.”

“If I’m caught, it will probably ruin my reputation, but the Royal Society won’t let women enter.”

“But they’ll let a woman of color dressed as a man in? Is that it, Scarlett?”

“Men of color have been men of science. Benjamin Banneker studied the mating cycles of locusts in 1789, twenty-eight years ago.”

He shook his head. “Bugs, Scarlett? That’s why you wish to risk your reputation?”

“No, there are others like Onesimus, the enslaved man who remembered inoculations performed in his African tribe, which led to the prevention of smallpox in Boston in the early seventeen hundreds. Almost eighty years before a vaccination. There are probably more. There needs to be more. I’ll do my part to push open doors.”

Tapping his chin, he came to the desk and sat as he’d done with Sebastian and Livingston. It was easier listening to men’s struggles. They were always simpler. “Tell me who you fancy. Tell me why you must run off to see him.”

She circled and stopped in front of him. “No one. I’d not risk my reputation for a man. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Fine. Then why are you doing this?”

“Science. They will be discussing blood research. I’m very curious. You should be too.”

Trying to seem uninterested, he flexed his fingers. “I don’t see why. But as your impromptu guardian, I’m concerned about you sneaking out.”

Scarlett tossed him a saucy look, then went to the vials on the sideboard. She opened a drawer of more medicines. “I’m a would-be botanist. I dabble with herbs. I’ve tried to create things for my mother and Lydia. If I could, I’d be an apothecary.”

“Those are nice aspirations. You should go to sleep and not think of sneaking away.”

“Your Grace, even a blind person can see this amount of pain medication and cure-alls to eliminate symptoms you’ve been hiding is a lot. Tell me what’s going on.”

Did she know or was the young woman bluffing? “Now, Scarlett, I dabble in medicines too.”

“This is more than dabbling. This is to help a sick man who wants to get better or enjoy the time he has.”

The skill in this one was strong.

Jahleel didn’t know if he should push. Better to make a deal. “You want to go to science lectures? Mr. Steele will take you. He’ll see you there and back. No one has to know, but I will be comforted knowing you’re safe. Now run along.”

Scooting her toward the door didn’t work. The vixen wasn’t done. “You want to win this bet with Katherine?”

“What has she told you, Scarlett?”

She smiled wide, then pouted and shook her fingers at him. “Enough to know she broke your trust. And you hers.”

Great, more half-truths. He leaned on the bookcase. “Well, my friend, I heard no specifics. I guess with all the books you’ve read, you haven’t had time for mind reading. Probably wouldn’t be scientific.”

“I’m serious. I’ll let you win the bet. I’ll choose someone to marry. You make it happen. You win.”

“Scarlett, you’re a beautiful young woman. I have to arrange for you to be presented and do a proper season. How would you know who to marry?”

“Marriage at best is a partnership. I need my research to count. But as a woman, I’m running into obstacles. I need someone respectable who I can give my research to and they can get it published.”

“That doesn’t get you credit for your work.”

Her head dipped. “I think having the knowledge put into the world is much more important than whose name is credited.”

Noble. Very admirable. And shortsighted. “No. This is a recipe for disaster. Everyone wants credit for their personal accomplishments. And I don’t want you unhappy. A bad marriage will be horrible.”

“I’ve thought of that. That’s why I need a pretend husband. Someone who will be the conduit for publishing my research. I need somebody who has a scientific mind and who is able to answer questions if needed. I want the work to be legitimized.”

“So you’re looking for a fake husband to publish some true academic papers? You women of the 1810s truly need to have bigger goals.”

“I need this person to be extremely convincing. And I think that someone like you will be able to apply the proper pressure to make it happen. And you get to win the bet. You’ll have my sister in your bed. I’ve watched you. Your eyes rarely stray from Katherine for anything more than a few minutes. You’re in love with her.”

“So this research is so important that you will willingly betray your sister?”

“Yes. Because I think we’re looking at the same cure. These drugs, these symptoms that you have, the weakness, jaundice. It’s the same sickness that Lydia has. It’s the illness that killed our mother. And it’s killing you. The blood sickness needs to be solved.”

Scarlett Wilcox was the most dangerous woman in London. She knew Jahleel’s secret, and in her tiny conniving hands, she might have the potential cure. The only question was, could such a volatile creature be trusted to be cautious and not destroy Jahleel’s carefully constructed world?