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“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said and kissed him. “We leave in the morning.”
WILLIAMARRIVEDATPrescott Hall the next morning to meet Lord and Lady Aleksander. Ewan had come, too, and thank God for it—William was so discombobulated that he’d almost left without his things.
He’d never in his life been such a tangled mess of anxiety. It felt as if his whole life had been building up to this moment, and his life going forward was resting on a house of cards.
The footmen were loading the Aleksanders’ bags onto the carriage. Lord and Lady Bardaline had come out and were buzzing around them like flies, eager to see the lot of them dispatched away from Prescott Hall. The pair had no notion of what was underfoot, and Lady Bardaline seemed on the verge of hysterical laughter. “We’ve enjoyed your time with us, Lady Aleksander. Safe journey!”
Princess Amelia had come to watch the dispatch, too, and said, “For heaven’s sake, they’ll be back in a week or so.”
Lady Aleksander ignored the Bardalines altogether. “My lord, will you come inside for a moment?” she asked, gesturing William forward.
When he stepped into the foyer, he was relieved to see Justine coming down the stairs with Dodi tucked under her arm. She had on her gardening apron, her hair loose down her back. She looked so beautiful that he wanted to stand there a moment and quietly take her in, in case this was the last—
“Five minutes,” Lady Aleksander said. “I can’t hold them off any longer.”
She meant the Bardalines. William looked at Justine. She indicated with her head the receiving room and went in ahead of him.
William glanced at Lila. “Go,” she said.
So he did. He followed Justine into a room empty of footmen and butlers and matchmakers and jailers. He quickly shut the door in case any of the aforementioned thought to join them.
Justine put down the dog, then rushed into his arms. She pressed her face to his chest. “This will never work! How could I have agreed to this?”
“Justine.Leannan.” He caught her face between his hands and lifted it. “Keep faith. Say your prayers. This is the only hope we have.”
She looked on the verge of tears and wrapped her hands around his wrists. “What if it fails? You must come back to me, William. Do you hear me? Youmust.I will be lost without you. I can’t stop thinking—I can’t be queen without you.”
He kissed her softly. “You donna need me to be queen. But Iwillcome back to you.” He kissed her again. “I will walk if I must. I will climb through brambles and swim rivers and beg for my supper—nothing will keep me away.” He kissed her once more. “Have faith.”
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “This is madness.”
“Aye, it is. But think of the stories we will tell our children.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. A long, deep kiss. He tried to infuse her with as much hope as he could, to give her an unspoken promise that he would find a way.
He didn’t know how in God’s name they would find a way, but he was willing to die trying.
He finally let her go, stroked her cheek and pressed his hand to her neck before he walked out.
WHENHE’DGONEJustine moved restlessly about the receiving room, Dodi following her every step, and finally came to stand behind the settee. She gripped the back of it and sank down, crouching, trying not to vomit. As it was, she could hardly breathe. She had a terrible sense of doom, as if this was the last time she would ever see him. No one ever removed a scandal from their name—she knew that better than most. She would not be allowed to marry him. She would be forced instead to marry a man she could not bear to touch and would think of William always.Always.
She heard someone come in and tried to swallow down her grief and her nausea.
“Jussie? What are you doing?”
Amelia’s feet appeared beside her. “I am trying desperately not to wail.”
“Oh, darling,” Amelia said. She slid down to the floor beside her and wrapped her arms around her. “You reallydolove him.”
She really did.
They remained like that, Amelia holding Justine and Dodi until Justine could breathe again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MR. PAULBARTHOLOMEWinsisted on learning his role in this caper on the long, twelve-hour trip to Glasgow. William had put them all in the first-class car on the train, which Mr. Bartholomew had inspected, and had declared, in spite of its small size and hard seating, was appropriate for his rehearsal.
He spent the first hour peppering William with questions about Miss Althea Simpson. He began with the obvious questions, such as her height, the color of her hair and eyes. He asked about her disposition, whether or not she was demur or if she commanded a room. And then proceeded to ask head-scratching questions about the sound of her laugh, and the size of her feet.
William tried to explain that he really didn’t know her well at all, had only met her a few times before the day in question. But he gave Mr. Bartholomew as much information as he could.
