Her Highness, My Wife (17 page)

“Your family home is that close?” Tatiana stared in surprise. “Her Grace is right. You cannot possibly let this chance slip by.”

“I most certainly can.” His voice was firm. “There is much about my relationship with my family you are not aware of.”

“Nonsense.” The dowager snorted in a most unladylike manner. “You would be rather shocked, I think, to learn just how much I do know. Old ladies have little else to do with their time than gossip and meddle. I know a great deal about the lives of those who touch my life, because I make it my business to know.

“I know of your wild youth and I know of the trouble between you and your father that led to your departure. Furthermore, I know, as I am confident you do not, that at the end of his life he very much regretted his actions.”

“Did he,” Matthew said softly.

“He did indeed. And your brothers would be most happy to welcome you home.” Her Grace heaved a

heartfelt sigh. “Matthew, you are, what? Six and twenty?”

He nodded.

“You have the luxury of a great portion of your life still ahead of you. Do not waste it.” She shook her head. “Do not get to my years with regrets and no time left to make amends. Go home, Matthew.”

“I…” he heaved a sigh of surrender. “I will consider it.”

“Do you have regrets, Your Grace?” Tatiana said without thinking. The dowager raised a brow. “My dear young woman, that is a most impertinent question.”

Heat flashed up Tatiana’s face. “I am sorry. I did not—”

“Do not apologize.” Her Grace chuckled. “I rather like impertinence. As for regrets…” She folded her hands on her lap and thought for a moment.

“I have known many women through the years who regret that over which they have no control, primarily that they were born women. They long for the public power and authority denied them by virtue of their gender. But I have discovered that in many ways the power of women is far greater than that of men.” She cast Matthew a wry smile. “Do forgive me, my lord, I know how this must shock you.”

“Not at all.” Matthew laughed. “I confess, I expected as much from you, ma’am.”

“As well you should.” The dowager nodded primly, then continued. “It is a private power, a private influence, and a wise woman wields it carefully. My own regrets do not concern that which I could not control. As for that which I could…” She fell silent for a long moment. “There are paths I did not take in my life, choices I did not make that I regretted when I was younger. But I realized with the passage of years the paths I chose and the choices I made were indeed the best ones. So no, my dear Lady Matthew, in truth I have no significant regrets.

“And what of you? Although you are far too young to have any regrets of any consequence.”

“Oh, but I do.” She wasn’t sure if it was the kindliness and candid nature of the elderly woman or simply that Tatiana had never spoken of important matters with a woman of experience, but the words tumbled out of their own accord. “I regret I have spent much of my life doing what was expected of me. It led me to a disastrous marriage with a man who could not be trusted and who, in truth, did not care for me.”

A startled expression crossed Her Grace’s face.

“Oh, not Lord Matthew,” Tatiana said quickly. “I was wed once before, a marriage arranged by my family. I regret I had neither the courage nor the strength to control my own fate and I regret that I failed to see how my husband’s weakness might be the result of my position in life.”

“Oh, my,” the dowager said, her blue eyes bright with interest. “Sometimes it’s a blessing to talk about all those things one never speaks of aloud.” She placed her hand on Tatiana’s. “Do go on, my dear.”

Matthew’s eyes widened and his mouth opened as if he were about to protest, then snapped shut, and he stared with the stunned fascination of one who is watching a house go up in flames or a shipwreck upon a shore. And is helpless to prevent the disaster.

“Very well, I shall.” Tatiana squared her shoulders. “I regret that parts of my life have made me suspicious and unable to fully trust now those people I should. I regret some of the decisions I have made with my head, even if they were rational choices, and not trusting my heart. Always. And I regret the fear that still keeps me from doing those things I should have done long ago. And… and…” She sat back in her chair and blew a long breath. “And I believe that may be it.”

“That may be enough,” Matthew murmured.

“I must say that was quite impressive.” Her Grace smiled knowingly. “You do feel better now, don’t you, my dear?”

“Yes, actually, I do.” Tatiana had been taught from birth, regardless of the circumstances, not to reveal her thoughts and feelings. Now a fresh clean sensation of freedom and relief swept through her. She grinned at the dowager. “In truth, better than I have for a very long time.”

“Excellent.” The dowager beamed.

Matthew smiled in an absent manner. She had no idea what he might be thinking. He should be pleased. After all, everything she had said was true. Still, there was no reading his mind.

“Your Grace, I wonder if we might now discuss the Princess Sophia?” There was no time like the present to begin, and, with Valentina in the country, no time to waste.

“I do hope you do not think it rude of me, Lady Matthew, but the hour is late and I am beginning to feel somewhat fatigued. I should prefer to put off any discussion of the princess until tomorrow, perhaps, or even later in the week.”

“Later in the week?” Tatiana kept her voice level and unconcerned.

“Indeed. Several members of my family were in residence here up until a fortnight ago. Lord Matthew’s presence provides me with the perfect opportunity to call them back. I sent out informal invitations the moment I received your note and I expect the guests nearest to Effington Hall to arrive as early as tomorrow. Why, no one would speak to me again if they knew Lord Matthew and his balloon were here and I had allowed them to miss it. In addition, my grandson and several other relations have recently visited Avalonia. I’m certain they would enjoy the opportunity to discuss their activities there with you.”

“That would be lovely,” Tatiana lied. She would much prefer not to speak with anyone who might recognize her, although she had not been home since shortly after her brother had left Avalonia for England early in the spring.

“I think a ball is in order. Nothing extensive, mind you, a small gathering. No more than fifty guests or so, probably less than a hundred all told, mostly family, could be managed by the end of the week. Oh, say, three days from now. You will stay, of course?”

“Of course,” Matthew said, his polite smile belying the reluctance in his eye.

“Of course.” Tatiana nodded. As much as she did not want to waste the rest of the week, the time would give her the opportunity to fully explore Effington Hall and its grounds. If the Heavens were here, this was her chance to find them.

“Excellent.” The elderly woman beamed. “I do so love impromptu entertainments, and I confess I will use any excuse. I rarely travel to London these days and the country can be frightfully dull. Most of the time, I rather prefer it that way, but at the moment, I am oddly restless.” She pulled her brows together in a considering manner. “I have no idea why, but there you have it.” She squeezed Tatiana’s hand and met her gaze. “It may well be that whole issue of regrets. I shall not live forever and there are any number of things I have yet to do.”

She pulled her hand away and turned toward Matthew. “And I fully expect you to help me accomplish one of them.”

“Me?” Apprehension flickered in Matthew’s eye.

The dowager nodded. “You and your balloon.”

“My balloon?” he said slowly.

“Aerostat,” Tatiana added.

“In your wife’s note I was given to understand you are at a point in your work where it will be necessary to inflate the”—she cast a quick smile at Tatiana—“aerostat. It should be quite exciting. I was hoping you would give me the honor of a ride.” She smiled, and a far-off look appeared in her eye. “I do regret that I have never had the opportunity to fly.”

“The honor would be mine, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. And to seal our bargain, I have something of a treat in store.” She picked up a bell and rang. The butler appeared in the doorway immediately. The dowager nodded and the servant disappeared, to return almost at once bearing a tray with a decanter and three filled glasses. “I have been saving this for years, and tonight is indeed the perfect occasion.”

The butler offered the tray first to the dowager, who selected a glass, then to Tatiana and Matthew in turn. Tatiana had no idea what the beverage might be, although the deep, dark red-brown color looked familiar.

The dowager raised her glass to Matthew. “To family and friends”—then directed her glass to Tatiana—“and to those who have newly joined our company.”

All three brought their glasses to their lips. In that instant before the liquid touched her mouth, Tatiana recognized the sharp, unmistakable scent of Avalonian brandy. At once she realized if she drank it she would soon be asleep and there would be no opportunity for confession to Matthew and no chance of anything much more delightful. But the dowager was offering the brandy in honor of Lord and Lady Matthew, and it would be most impolite not to accept it. Tatiana had little choice. She squinted her eyes closed, held her breath and drained the glass.

“Avalonian brandy,” Matthew said in much the same manner one would say hemlock. As much as Tatiana did not like the drink, it was still not at all pleasant to hear Matthew speak of it as if it were poison.

“Oh, my.” The dowager gasped and held her glass out to study its contents. “I did think brandy got better with age.”

“It’s supposed to,” Matthew muttered.

“Do you think it’s gone bad? The taste is distinctly…” The lady licked her lips and her nose wrinkled.

“Foul?” Matthew said.

“Odd.” Her Grace stared down into her glass. “The princess sent it to me years ago. I understand it’s rather rare.”

“It’s very difficult to get outside of Avalonia,” Tatiana said.

“Thank God,” Matthew said under his breath.

“I rarely drink spirits other than wine or sherry or champagne, of course. Perhaps a cognac on special occasions. The odd glass of whiskey now and then during the winter. A sip of gin…” She held the glass to the light and scrutinized its contents. “But is brandy supposed to taste like this?”

“I believe it is.” Tatiana was beginning to wonder if Avalonian brandy was any good at all. At least as the rest of the world judged brandy.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Matthew said pointedly.

“And no doubt difficult to acquire. This may well explain why after all these years in this house, in which there are a fair amount of spirits regularly imbibed, it has not been drunk.” The dowager leaned toward Matthew. “I believe there are quite a few bottles of the stuff still in the cellar.”

The dowager brightened. “We could serve it at the soiree. In honor of Lady Matthew. It would be perfect.”

“And you would get rid of it.” Matthew grinned.

“Is it really that bad?” Tatiana asked, staring at her empty glass.

“No, my dear.” The dowager rose to her feet, Matthew and Tatiana following suit. “But as Matthew says, it is obviously a taste that must be acquired.”

Tatiana sighed. “And I have never truly acquired it.”

“That is not, necessarily, a bad thing.” Matthew grinned down at her. Something in his look, amusement or perhaps even affection, caught at her heart and her gaze locked with his. The look in his eye changed, deepened, and desire now stared at her. A wonderful, tremulous sense of anticipation settled in her body.

She stifled a yawn.

“I shall bid you both good night,” Her Grace said. “I am more than ready to retire. However, if you are not”—she turned to Matthew—“we have an excellent library and a billiards room. Along with a gentleman’s lounge, those are the only rooms where the smoking of cigars is permitted. Many of the Effington men like the foul-smelling things. Do you, Matthew?”

He shrugged in an offhand manner. “On rare occasions.”

“Well, there are supplies in both rooms if you consider this occasion rare.” The dowager chatted on about the quality of the offerings in the Effington library and the enjoyment of the game of billiards and Tatiana was not certain what else. In a few short minutes, she would have to tell Matthew everything and in many ways she rather welcomed it. He could be of great assistance in her search for the jewels. He would certainly understand her affliction brought on by travel. As for the rest, well, the truth about the state of their marriage could no longer be put off. She should have told him long ago. The dowager turned to Tatiana and took the younger woman’s hands. “I have quite enjoyed this evening, and I do so look forward to speaking with you about the princess.”

“As do I, Your Grace,” Tatiana said.

“I shall see you tomorrow, then.” Her Grace started toward the door and called back over her shoulder.

“And do put that young woman to bed, Matthew, she is falling asleep on her feet.”

Tatiana yawned.

Matthew moved closer and studied her carefully. “You are falling asleep.”

“Not at all.” She forced a bright note to her voice and blinked hard. She had never particularly tried to counteract the effects of the brandy—indeed, she had always welcomed the respite it brought—but tonight she very much wanted to remain awake. She stepped to Matthew, placed her hands on his coat and slid them up and around to the back of his neck. “Besides, I have far too much to accomplish tonight to sleep.”