Chapter Seventeen A Certain Peace

Chapter Seventeen

A Certain Peace

T he king provided a royal carriage to take them home—alone this time, with no glowering guards. August helped Elizabeth inside, then climbed in after her, with a huge chunk of royal-grown ginger in a sack. The look she gave him had him stifling a guffaw of laughter. No longer the exhausted lady, her eyes shot fire as she crossed her arms.

“What on earth just happened, August? Today of all days?”

“You were spectacular,” he said. “It was a performance for the ages.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

The carriage set off, rattling across the expanded Buckingham Palace courtyard. He pulled Elizabeth into his lap and kissed her pouting mouth until she responded. He caressed her cheeks, the hollows beneath her ears, her elegant neck. How he loved his wife’s pluck, her courage before the trappings of majesty. Well, she was a duke’s daughter, not one to be uncomfortable around power.

At length, she broke the kiss and let out a sigh. “I am beside myself. Honestly, I don’t know how to feel. I’m furious that he humiliated me before all my guests, having me dragged off by guards so I could commune with his departed daughter. And he believed it, all of it.”

“I fear he’s not in the best of health.”

“No, he’s not. And that part makes me sad. I pitied him. For a king, he’s weak and unsettled, and rude! I believe he wished to incite you to spank me right then and there, all while requesting, no, demanding my assistance as some kind of charlatan medium.” She buried her head in her hands a moment before looking up at him. “The pleading in his eyes! He really did love Charlotte. It was so sad, that his only daughter died. I’m so upset. I don’t know how to feel.”

“It’s all right not to know.” He embraced her, trying to still her trembling. He caressed her smooth hair, arranged so prettily for a garden party she’d not been able to attend. “Shh. It’s all right.” She’d gone from outrage to pity to tears, and he let her cry. It had been a bizarre and pitiable scene, but she’d handled herself so well, so adeptly.

“Darling, it’s all right. Don’t torment yourself. Why, you should be proud. You did a good thing, letting him believe you could sense his daughter, and speak her comforting words. You made him feel better.”

“But I feel worse. It was dishonest, wasn’t it? And the bit at the end…”

He tipped up her chin. “That was your moment of genius. If anyone is to stop gossip of your ‘sorcery’ and ‘devilish talents,’ it’s the highest power in the land, especially when you’re one of his favorites. You made a friend of our king today.”

“Even if the gossips desist, he’ll still believe in it. He’ll want me back to speak to God-knows-who in the afterlife. Charlemagne, or Elizabeth the First, or King Arthur.”

“Only every six months or so,” he said. “You cleverly took care of that. It was such a masterful performance, I had to restrain myself from applauding at several points.” He sobered. “But I’m sorry you had to go through it. Kings and their reckless demands can be daunting when you’re caught up in it. Were you afraid?”

“Yes. I was afraid to contradict him, afraid to be truthful. I behaved so falsely.”

He took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her gloves. “Whether false or true, you did a kindness for your king. You put his heart at ease, which isn’t a simple task when his mind is so tortured.”

“And in return, he sends my husband home with ginger from his gardens, and likens me to an over-spirited horse which must be tamed. What a terrible day. You must throw that ginger in the nearest bin as soon as we arrive home.”

August had no plans to do that, but he wouldn’t say so now, when she was in such an agitated state. Instead, he kissed her again, then sat back beside her, looking from the carriage windows at the lovely, sunny sky. It would have been a fabulous party.

“Will the guests be gone now?” she asked after a moment. “I imagine they’ve all left for home.”

“Most of them, yes. It’s no matter.”

“The way they will talk—”

Her voice choked off the word as her eyes filled with tears.

“You mustn’t worry about the gossip, darling. You have the king’s favor, which trumps all else in society. We’ll put about that it was a misunderstanding, that he meant to summon someone else. It can be handled.” He wiped away her tears. “You can handle anything. You’re so resourceful, so strong. I love you, darling, so much.”

“I love you, too. I am so fortunate—” Her breath caught again. “So fortunate to have you. Can you imagine if Fortenbury had been the one at my side in the king’s chamber? At the first talk of ghosts and communing, and the ‘devil’s work,’ his head would have risen from his shoulders and spun.”

“He’d have fainted dead away with his holy book clutched to his chest, and there’d have been no one to carry you out at the end, when you exhausted yourself communicating with the afterlife.”

At last, his wife rewarded him with gentle laughter. “He would have been beside himself.”

“Idiot.”

“Fool. Thank goodness I married you instead.”

Her adoring look, the way she traced the line of his stubble just along his jaw’s curve… It was all he could do not to toss up her skirts and spear her on his thickening cock, but there was no time, and this was not their carriage. They were rounding the corner to their town house, the great tents in the back garden just visible, reflecting the day’s sun.

“Mama and Papa will have stayed,” she said, turning to the window. “And Wescott and Jane, and Rosalind.”

“I’m sure all the Oxfordshire families have stayed, wondering what crime you were accused of by His Majesty. And look, there is Felicity and Carlo’s royal coach.”

“The party in their honor, ruined,” she said. “It’s awful.”

“The tents are still up. We’ll go enjoy it now. There will be plenty of us to make a party. Who needs the rest of the ton when your family and friends are so—”

“Wonderful.”

“Plentiful,” he finished, seeing the crowd of carriages still in the courtyard, backed up practically to the street. “Let’s go put their minds at ease.”

“But what shall we say happened? Papa will be upset if I tell him the king wanted me to speak with his dead daughter.”

August thought a moment as the carriage pulled to the front of the house and stopped. “Do you know, Elizabeth, perhaps it is time to stop worrying about your special abilities and just let them…be? They’ve made me uncomfortable in the past, and perhaps I’ve scolded you for them, but they’re part of who you are. If they disquiet your papa, or the ton , or the bloody king for that matter, it ought to be their problem, not yours. That’s my thinking, anyway.”

The look of relief on her face made him wish he’d said the words sooner.

“And to put you at ease, I have no problem being husband to such a distinctive and mysterious lady. I’m no Fortenbury, and never will be. You’re married and settled in society now, and soon will be a mama to my children. What if they should inherit your gifts? We wouldn’t want them to feel ashamed.”

“Oh, I do love you.” She hugged him, squeezing him tight. “I love you, I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. I think you might as well tell our families the truth of why the king summoned you, and not feel embarrassed or constrained about it, though we shan’t spread the words to any gossips who might misunderstand.” He reached for the carriage door, then stopped. “You may wish to leave out the part where he ordered me to spank you.”

“Gladly,” she said, laughing again.

So they went into the house, to the nervous family and friends who clustered in the parlors, and related the entire ridiculous story, finishing one another’s sentences, and providing the proper words to express how outlandish an experience it had been.

At the end, her papa rubbed his face and shook his head at the ludicrousness of it. “Well, at least he shall help put an end to the more egregious whispers that plague your peace of mind.”

“I will not let those whispers plague me anymore,” she said, and August burned with pride for her, his courageous wife. “I am as I am, with gifts of perception I cannot refute. My husband accepts my peculiarities and he loves me nonetheless.” August thought he saw her gaze flit toward Felicity as she said it. “So I shall try to love myself as well, and cease feeling shamed about it all.”

“We never meant you to feel shamed,” her mama said.

“We only wished to protect you,” her papa agreed, embracing her. “But I see now you’ve grown into a confident, self-assured woman, with your mother’s strength and resilience. And occasional stubbornness,” he added, eliciting laughter and a playful swat from his dark-haired wife.

“With that settled,” said August, “I think we ought to retire outside to enjoy whatever refreshments are still edible, and bask in this beautiful day.”

The guests agreed with a rousing cheer, and the Arlington, Barrymore, Lockridge, Warren, Wescott, Marlow, and Townsend families all gathered the children to stream outside, led by his now much-energized wife. When the parlors had emptied, and he himself turned to go, he heard a quiet voice say, “August.”

He knew the voice well, had held it in his heart for years upon years. He turned to see Felicity standing before him, older now, a regal princess and a mama many times over. She remained strikingly beautiful, with her wide, beguiling eyes.

“Dear August.” She took his hand. “I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding and thank you for hosting this lovely party.”

“Of course, you’re very welcome. We’re honored you came.”

They’d always been formal like this, even when he passionately loved her. It had been Felicity’s wise and gentle way of maintaining a distance between them, a distance from the boy she must have considered a nuisance growing up. Now, suddenly, she let down some of that reserve and regarded him warmly.

“Elizabeth, becoming your wife? I would never have imagined the two of you, but the fondness is clear. It’s delightful to see.”

He smiled. “I’ve fallen for her completely, and I’m very happy. I was slow to understand my true feelings at first, but now…” He felt a flush spread across his cheeks, despite his best intentions. “Now every day I discover some new wonder in her, some reason to love her more.”

“A slow burn lasts longer than a raging fire,” said Felicity sagely. “I’m sure your marriage will bring a lifetime of happiness. It’s always been my wish for you.”

“Felicity, I—I’ve never apologized for hounding you so when I was younger. For mooning after you when it was clearly not meant to be.”

“You don’t need to apologize, dear August. It was flattering, though my heart broke for you.”

“Your royal marriage, your children… Once, I envied your happiness. Bitterly. But I am not that man anymore. Now I’m just pleased to see you so content.”

“And you.” Her gaze held his. “In the end, everything worked out as it was meant to. One need only observe the tender way you look at Elizabeth to realize you two were fated for one another, even if the realization was slow. You seem a perfectly ordained match.”

“August? The guests are asking for y—”

Elizabeth appeared at the parlor door, her voice dropping short as she noted him and Felicity standing together, speaking close.

He took a step back, not wishing her to misunderstand. Felicity, ever more polished and sanguine than he, said Elizabeth’s name and held out her hand.

She crossed to them. He knew her well enough to recognize the play of emotions beneath her carefully composed features. Felicity embraced her, and Elizabeth said, “Thank you for coming,” in a somewhat unsteady voice.

“It’s my pleasure,” Felicity replied. “I was just congratulating August on your recent nuptials. I ought to have congratulated both of you together, but August and I…we had to make a certain peace. You understand. Of all people, you understand.”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “I do.”

Felicity took her hand. “I want you to know how very, very much he loves you.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Of course you know, with your powers of perception, but sometimes, when you’re so close to someone, it’s hard to see the depth of their feelings.” She looked sideways at August, then back at Elizabeth. “Your husband and I have a history together, but it’s nothing beside the great love story you two shall tell. You know that too, don’t you?”

Elizabeth nodded, then said, softly, “Yes.”

“So we shall consign any memories of Felicity and August to the dustbin, and proceed without awkwardness as longtime, loving friends. And I will very much enjoy watching the two of you grow and prosper together.” She released her hand as the women exchanged smiles. “By the way, Lisbet, I think you were very courageous in your dealings with the king today. Our recent audience with him was…interesting. He terrified the children. I believe he is just lonely and old. You were kind to bring him comfort.”

August knew Felicity had brought Elizabeth comfort, too. And himself, although he’d known he was over his obsession for some months now. But it had surely helped Elizabeth to hear it straight from Felicity’s mouth.

“Shall we go join the others?” he asked. “If we don’t hurry, the cook’s famous biscuits will be gone.”

“My children will have eaten a great many,” said Felicity, laughing. “And I was too nervous about Elizabeth’s ‘detention’ to claim any earlier. Let’s go salvage what we may.”