Chapter 13

"Are you certain that he will still want me?" Anne Girard asked. Beneath the small lamplight inside his private vehicle, Fitz saw the young woman twisting her kid gloves between her trembling fingers in apprehension.

"He would be a fool not to," Fitz promised her. He felt a twist in his gut knowing that he'd reduced this once vibrant, confident young woman to someone who doubted herself. Fitz couldn't help but think of Tabitha and how restoring a couple who were meant to be together, wasn't just for Tabitha, but for himself. It was a new beginning for him, but it didn't ease the breaking of his own heart any less.

The coach came to a stop outside the townhouse belonging to Louis Atherton. One of Fitz's footmen opened the coach door. Fitz stepped down first before he turned to offer Anne his hand. She accepted it and descended from the carriage. As he led her up the steps to Louis's residence, he was painfully aware she'd once planned to call this townhouse her home.

He rapped the knocker and waited for Louis's butler to answer the door. When he did, the man's eyes bulged at the unexpected sight of Fitz and Anne standing there.

Fitz met the butler's stare coolly, but secretly he prayed the man wouldn't turn him away a second time.

"Please ask Atherton if he is available to see me. And tell him I have a gift that he would be mad to refuse."

The butler waved them inside. Anne reached for Fitz's arm, clinging to him nervously. In the last month at sea, he'd spent quite a bit of his time with Anne and had regained her trust. In a moment like this, it felt good to realize that she knew now that he would support her. Fitz patted her hand in silent reassurance. The last time Louis and Anne had spoken, it ended in tears. This time, things would be different. He would see to it.

The butler left them for only a moment and then returned. "The master is in his study and will see you, but I must caution you he's deep in his cups. I do not think he is suitable for a visit from a lady," the butler warned with a glance of regret toward Anne.

Fitz turned to Anne. "Let me speak to him alone for a moment. I shall call for you to come inside when I believe he's ready." Fitz gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before letting them go.

She nodded and followed him to the door of the study but remained outside as instructed. Fitz straightened his coat and entered Louis's sanctuary, closing the door behind him.

His friend was slumped in a chair by the fire. A glass of brandy sat abandoned on the drink cart in favor of a full bottle of Scotch that currently rested in his friend's hand. Louis's ascot was missing. His hair was rumpled as though he'd dragged his hands through it repeatedly, and his shirt was partially undone as if presenting his heart to the world, begging for someone to drive a dagger into it. There was a stuffiness to the room that made Fitz feel as though Louis had not left this place in a long time.

"So, you've come back?" Louis's voice wasn't slurred, which gave Fitz some relief. However, the bite in his friend's words was a clear warning.

"Yes, I've returned from New York," Fitz said. "Aren't you curious as to the gift I brought you from that illustrious city?"

"I've had enough of your gifts, Fitz. Your precious advice!" Louis suddenly lunged to his feet and slammed the bottle of Scotch down on a nearby table. "I let you in so I could say these words to your face. We're finished. You're not my friend," Louis growled.

Fitz scowled back at Louis. "Hold your tongue and listen to me." He knew if he didn't get a word in now, his friend would never listen to what he had to say.

Louis's brown eyes darkened with rage. "Hold my tongue? That's rich, coming from you. Listening to you destroyed my life!" Louis swung a fist, and the unexpected blow caught Fitz on the chin.

Fitz stumbled back, his fists raised in defense, but no other blows came. Louis rubbed at his knuckles, eyes bright with pain.

"You turned me into a coward, Fitz. You, the man I called brother, you made me despise myself. I was a fool to let you convince me to break it off with Anne. She was my world. But you can't understand that, can you? You have no heart, none at all."

Louis's words burned inside Fitz, hurting him far more than any blow. "If only that were true," he muttered to himself. If he had no heart, then he would not have suffered the pain of his own heart breaking the way he had. His own heartbreak would feel infinitely less if he had no heart.

"What?" Louis heard him, but not clearly enough.

He cleared his throat. This wasn't quite going according to plan. "Perhaps you should see what I've brought you?"

"I said I want nothing of yours," Louis said and spun away. "Get out!"

The door opened behind Fitz, and Anne stepped into the room. She looked as poised as any princess, but Fitz didn't miss the slight tremble in her shoulders.

"Louis," Fitz said softly.

"No." Louis spun around, but the fire in his eyes died the instant he saw Fitz was not alone. He staggered forward a step as all the fight drained out of him, and he seemed a mere instant away from collapse.

"Anne?" He uttered her name with such anguish that Fitz felt his own pain at losing Tabitha burn fresh all over again. He knew this pain, this agony. The knowledge that he'd hurt his friend like this, that he'd been the one to cause such wretchedness to two souls... Fitz felt like a man doomed to hang for his crimes against the heart, including his own.

"Louis." Anne spoke her lover's name with tenderness. "His Grace brought me back from New York. For you."

Louis's confused gaze moved between the two of them. "He what?"

"He said that you still love me. That you might still... take me as your wife." Such words required great courage to say, and Anne had plenty of it. Fitz could not imagine saying such things himself. She was far braver than he could ever be.

Louis stared at him blankly, as if trying to decide this was a dream he was having due to the amount of Scotch he'd drunk or if it was real.

"You are right, Louis. About everything. I never should've stopped you from marrying Anne. Marry her because you love her, because she is yours. Never let a friend, or a former friend, convince you to ignore your heart ever again."

Fitz made a polite bow to Anne and exited the room before either of them could speak. Louis and his love had much to say that was private, and he had no desire to burden them with his presence any longer.

He put his hat back on and let the butler show him to the door. He was halfway down the steps when someone called his name. Fitz turned to look back at the doorway of the townhouse. Louis stood there, one hand braced on the doorjamb, his chest rising and falling as though he'd run to the door to catch up with Fitz.

"You went all the way to New York to speak to her? Why?"

"Though my words harmed you both, she suffered far more and I owed it to the lady to apologize to her in person. Even though I have no heart, I would do anything for you. Because you're my friend."

Louis's face grew ruddy. "I didn't mean what I said, Fitz. Truly I didn't. I was angry and..."

"Ah, but you did mean them, and I deserved to hear them. I will ensure that the polite society of London welcomes Miss Girard into its circle. She will have only friends from now on, not enemies. I vow that I will see it done."

Louis took a step closer to Fitz until he stood at the top of the steps, looking down.

"What happened to you?" Louis asked. "The Fitz I knew wouldn't have done this."

Fitz didn't answer right away as he considered his response. There was so much he regretted now, so much shame he felt for the way he'd been acting toward not just strangers but his friends. Tabitha had given him a glimpse of another life, a better one he could have if he only dared to admit his follies and vowed to change. He let out a soft sigh and looked back at Louis.

"The Fitz you knew was a blind and ignorant man. That Fitz is gone. I see myself in a new light now, and I mean to change."

Louis was quiet a long moment. "You know, I believe this is the Fitz I always thought I had as my friend since the day we first met. I'm glad to finally see him again." Louis paused again. "You don't have to leave. You could stay for a drink with us."

Fitz smiled, trying to keep the melancholy he felt out of his face. "I thank you, but I must go. You and Anne need time alone to discuss things. But if you do wish to see me again, you always know where to find me."

Louis nodded his understanding, and Fitz returned to his coach.

As he sat down in the darkness, he let out a heavy sigh. He had done all he could to bring Anne and Louis back together, and he was confident he had succeeded. Time would tell if Louis wished to renew their friendship, however. All Fitz could do was hope for forgiveness. Anything beyond that would be a blessing.

When he returned to his townhouse, he was more than ever aware of its silence. He wanted this house full again as it had been when Beck and his family had stayed here. For the first time in his life, he was willing to admit he wanted a family of his own. His eyes sought the landing on the staircase where he'd first seen Tabitha. He removed his hat and gloves, staring at the spot, remembering the moment that she'd turned to look at him. Even then, he had known something wondrous had come into his life. If only he could go back in time and fix the mistakes he'd made so he could have her back.

He would have pulled her close and whispered that she didn't need to steal a diamond, not when she could have him instead. He would have given her anything she desired, money for her charities, and he would have draped her in jewels and dressed her in the finest gowns. Of course, he knew better now. She wanted no fine gowns or jewels. She wanted love. She wanted time with him, like those hours spent in the darkness and warmth of a shared bed, or the gentle teasing of their conversation in the hothouse. That was what she wanted. Time and love. But he'd let too much come between them, and he didn't know if she could ever trust him not to be a cold bastard who cared little for others. Could he prove to her that a man could change? Would it be enough? For a man used to having answers about everything, it upset him greatly that to these burning questions he had none.

"You're finally home, my dear boy?" His grandmother's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He hadn't seen her since he'd left the house party almost two months ago.

"Yes." He turned to face her as she approached. She was dressed for a night at home in one of her more comfortable dark-blue gowns, and her silvery hair was braided over one shoulder.

"How was New York?" She folded her arms over her chest, her frown deepening. "I assume your mission was successful?"

"Yes, very successful. Although I do owe Mrs. Astor a favor." He smiled, but his grandmother's face remained solemn. "I'm sorry, I should have informed you of my plans to travel."

"Yes, you should have. I don't think those steamships are seaworthy. Something could have happened to you. Did you even think of that?"

He came over and kissed her forehead. "But nothing did. I'm all right, Grandmother. The ship was quite safe, I assure you. You should consider a voyage yourself sometime."

"Not bloody likely." She scowled at him and then reached into the pocket of her dress. "I never had a chance to see you before you left for New York. I wanted to give you this." She held out her closed fist.

He opened his hand and she dropped something cold and heavy into it. When he realized what it was, his heart stilled.

The Helston Diamond. The real one. The one he'd left beside Tabitha while she'd slept.

"How did you...?" His voice trailed off as his mind flashed with that final image of Tabitha in bed, her hair spilling across the pillows in the dawn light. Everything he'd felt in that moment came rushing back to him.

"A very remarkable young woman returned it to me."

Tabitha had given it back? A sudden violent pain in his chest made it hard to breathe.

"She didn't want to keep it," he said, half to himself.

"Oh, but she did," the dowager said. "I rather think that was the problem. She wanted to keep it because it was all she had of you. But if she kept it, she would have no choice but to use it for what she had originally intended. The diamond would be broken up and sold. She gave it back so that it might stay just as it is. To preserve the memories she has of you."

Fitz curled his fingers around the diamond, holding it tight. "What did she tell you about those memories?"

"Not much, but I have lived and loved a long time, and I see love more clearly in my old age than young people do. That woman is hopelessly in love with you. The question is, what will you do about it?"

"There's nothing I can do." Fitz felt betrayed by his own words.

"I rather thought the people of your generation married for love and damn the rest?"

He chuckled at her words. "Oh, we do, do we?"

"You're a duke, Fitzwilliam. If you cannot marry for any reason that you please, then what sense does this world make?"

"Grandmother, you don't understand. She has lived on the streets. She has no family, no connections. She is a pickpocket. A thief. She's one of those Merry Robins you so admire, wanted by the police. Are you telling me you would allow such a woman to be the next Duchess of Helston?"

"Why yes, she is rather the perfect kind, don't you think?" his grandmother replied without hesitation. "Family connections can be such a pain. Once she is your wife, she will be our family. She will be my granddaughter. She will have every connection she requires. That is one of the many benefits of marriage, aside from being with the one person you love. What point is there to life other than to embrace the act of loving others and receiving love from them? Love is the only thing a person can take with them when they die." She patted his hand that held the diamond. "The rest is merely window dressing. Besides, the question was never whether I cared about the wife you would choose. What matters is whether you care about her. Is this girl a fleeting diversion, or is she your world, Fitz? To that question, only you know the answer. And if she's your world... what are you still doing here talking to me?"

Your world. Louis had said Anne was his world. A wellspring of hope suddenly blossomed in him.

In the nearly two months since he had parted from Tabitha, it had become clear that she was his everything. Even knowing that he could not be with her, he had risen each day and gone to bed each night with his heart aching for her.

He'd once thought poets were fools to speak of love as all-consuming, but now he understood their words. His grandmother was right. Love was the only thing that mattered. Romantic love, familial love, love for one's friends, even love for strangers who perhaps need it most. Tabitha had known that truth all along and had tried to show him. His beautiful, brave, brilliant thief with a heart of gold.

"I am told she is at Lady Crawford's ball this evening," his grandmother said. "You received an invitation, so you may attend if you choose."

"How do you know where she is?" he asked his grandmother.

"I'm a grandmother first, darling, and a duchess second. It's my job to know where the woman my grandson loves is at any given moment. Now go and change. You mustn't be late."

She gave his hand another squeeze. Then he was rushing up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

Every fear and worry he'd had about a future with Tabitha had become pale and inconsequential when weighed against the thought of a life without her. He didn't care at all what might happen if the truth of her past came out. The only thing that mattered was not spending one more moment of his life without her.

He shouted for his valet. "Stewart! I have a ball to attend!"

* * *

He wasn't here.

That was all Tabitha could think each time she'd attended a ball in the last month. The Duke of Helston was in New York, not here in London. Yet it didn't stop her foolish heart from leaping every time a gentleman entered the ballroom.

Everyone knew Fitz had left London. The rumors had been flying as to why ever since his arrival in New York had been telegraphed back to England. She'd heard that he had attended one of Mrs. Astor's balls. Not knowing who Mrs. Astor was, she'd asked Hannah about the woman. This prompted a discussion as to why Tabitha had asked her, which led to a second discussion about the fact that Tabitha's feelings toward Fitz hadn't lessened since their parting.

None of that had been pleasant. She didn't want to talk about Fitz, let alone think about him. It simply hurt too much. Yet she did think about him every single day.

Why had he gone to New York? Gossip had ranged from business to bride hunting, but none of the sources were reliable. Reports had mentioned that he'd stayed only a few days before boarding a boat back to England, which had caused even more wild speculation.

He should be back any day now, but she had given up hope of ever seeing him again. He would no doubt avoid her and refuse to attend any events where she might be, and she could not blame him.

Julia suddenly joined her in the row of chairs where women were resting between dances. "Tabby, you won't believe it!" Her friend arranged the skirts of her pale-green and berry-red pleated gown as she sat down beside Tabitha.

"What is it?"

"He's back."

"What?" Tabitha asked, though she had no doubt from Julia's tone who she meant.

"Lord Helston apparently arrived in London late this afternoon and was spotted escorting a woman off the ship and into his private coach."

A woman? That didn't make any sense... unless the bride hunting rumors were true. But he'd been in New York only a few days and?—

"And you will not believe who it was he was seen with departing the ship!" Julia announced, interrupting Tabitha's panicked inner thoughts.

"Who?"

Julia gave her a knowing look, a slight smile on her face. There was only one name she could think of that might cause that reaction. Julia would know that any other young woman being seen with Fitz would have broken Tabitha's heart.

"Anne Girard?" Tabitha said softly.

"The same." Julia's face was flushed with excitement. "She's back! It's simply wonderful! You will adore her, Tabby, I promise you will!"

Tabitha still didn't understand. "Why would she be traveling with Lord Helston? You don't suppose they were married?"

"Anne married to Lord Helston? Goodness no, what on earth would give you that idea?"

Tabitha had no answer, only confusion and irrational fears.

"Don't you see, Tabby? He went to New York to bring her back. For Louis. He's trying to make amends. Oh, this is marvelous. Wait until I tell Hannah! She won't believe it! And to think I called him a bastard... Well, I suppose he was at the time, but even a bastard can change!" A few women nearby gasped at Julia's use of the word bastard, but Julia never seemed to care what anyone thought of her.

She abandoned Tabitha as she spotted Hannah at the refreshment table and rushed over to whisper the news in her ear. Hannah's eyes widened, and they shared excited looks before they glanced in Tabitha's direction.

Tabitha looked away and toyed with the dance card wrapped around her wrist, staring at the couples dancing in front of her. Fitz was home. Had he really brought the young lady home for his friend? She wanted to think so, but she wasn't sure. Had he truly changed his mind about her? If he had, the grand gesture of traveling all the way to America to bring the woman back was impressive, to say the least.

The dancers on the floor parted, some of them stopping in their steps as a man strode through them with purpose. Beneath the lamplight, his hair shone a deep gold and his blue eyes were fixed on her, filled with the same storms she'd grown to love. Her heart pounded wildly and her mind reeled as she tried to arrange her thoughts, but all she could think was his name over and over.

Fitz.

She couldn't think past that single realization. He was here.

Fitz stopped in front of her, bowed, and held out a hand to her. She rose as if in a dream and placed her gloved hand in his. He curled his fingers around hers tightly, and her skin broke out into goosebumps as that electric connection shot to life between them once again. He pulled her into his arms, and taking their cue, the musicians dove into a new waltz.

She gazed up at him as they danced together beneath the crystal chandeliers in the shining light, neither one speaking. This was where she belonged. In this man's arms and nowhere else. Her heart fluttered in her chest now, like a songbird stretching its wings and readying to sing on a clear winter morning. This man was her home.

They gazed into each other's eyes as their feet moved in time to the music. His large hand on her waist was warm, his hold firm. His other hand clasped hers tight, as if he feared she might vanish when the last note of the waltz ended.

She finally spoke, breaking the spell between them. "Is it true that you went to New York?"

"Yes. I had an apology to give," he said, his voice soft. "One long overdue."

"And did you?"

"I did." That look of peace, that sense of knowing he'd done the right thing, had changed his once imperious face to one far more welcoming, which only enhanced his already sinful good looks. "I asked Miss Girard to return home with me. She and Louis are getting reacquainted. The future is up to them now. I've done what I can to make things right."

Tabitha stared at him, unable to form words.

"It is only the beginning," he confessed. "I still have much to fix in my life."

"You do?"

He smiled sadly. "I certainly do."

She had a sudden flash of understanding. All the charities she and her friends had been supporting had recently received checks in the last few weeks from a new anonymous donor. It must have been him, but she didn't want to force him to admit it.

"I spent so much of my life building walls to protect myself after I lost my parents. I was terrified of getting hurt, but those very walls kept me from living. I thought I didn't need to live, that being safe was better... but you changed everything for me," he said. "I never expected you to get past my walls, Tabitha. You slipped in like the thief you are and stole me away from myself and showed me that living... that loving was worth the pain. You didn't just take the Helston Diamond—you took my heart."

She held her breath, but when he remained silent, she finally dared to speak. "Are you asking for it back?"

"The only way I would want my heart back is if you came with it," he replied, his eyes softening. "I know I've made a mess of things. I left you and I shouldn't have. I should've stood with you against world, slaying dragons in your name... but instead, I fled."

She stopped dancing abruptly, and he grasped her tighter, as though he feared she would flee. "Fitz... I never asked you to slay dragons or protect me from the world. All I want, all I ever wanted, is to be loved by you."

He was silent a long moment, unaware of the growing crowd that had stopped to watch them talk.

"Fitz, everyone is watching us," she warned in a whisper.

"Then let them. I am done letting my fear rule over me. I choose to be ruled by love instead."

He clasped her hands in his, and in front of the crowd of people he got down on one knee and reached into his waistcoat pocket. He pulled out something large and glittering in his palm.

"I believe this belongs to you. I offer it, my name, and my life as your husband."

"You wish to marry me?"

"Yes, if you will have me." He held her hands steady and placed the great diamond into one of her palms. "You are the only jewel I desire."

His eyes were now clear of storms, and in that instant, Tabitha glimpsed the future they would have together, the years slowly spinning past, leaving a tapestry of two lives that were always meant to be entwined. Someday those threads would end, but those of their children and grandchildren would continue on, carrying that tapestry of their love into the future.

This sense of knowing her destiny and the rightness of it left her stunned. Those years of grief that had threatened to consume her soul and Fitz's as they suffered loss after loss had now given them a chance to grow, to stretch beyond that grief and expand their hearts so that love could burst forth once more.

One word held the power to unlock the hidden gate that led to the garden their hearts shared. She was so full of joy, so full of disbelief at her own good fortune, that it took her two tries before she could speak it.

"Yes."

Fitz surged to his feet, pulling her into his arms as he kissed her hard, desperately, the way a man does when he fears he will lose something precious if he ever lets it go.

Tabitha clung to him, kissing him back, reassuring him without words that he never needed to doubt the vow of that single word.

When their lips broke apart, the room had grown as quiet as a church, and she smiled up at him through happy tears.

"Yes," she said again, stronger this time.

Fitz glanced around at the guests, spotted Hannah and Julia, and nodded solemnly at them before he scooped Tabitha up in his arms.

"Fitz! What are you doing?" Tabitha gasped. The guests around them covered their mouths with gloved hands in shock.

"I'm taking you home, wife."

"But we're not married yet," she protested with a laugh.

"My heart married yours that night we met. The rest is merely ceremony."

She had no response to this except to cling to him a bit tighter.

"Where are we going?"

"Home, because I cannot stand another moment of not kissing you."

Fitz carried her from the ballroom and out to the street, where his coach waited for them.