SILK AND SECRETS (52 page)

Her mouth twisted. “You said that I was like Lady Hester Stanhope, and it’s true, for the people who most deserved my love and loyalty are the ones I hurt most. You, my family, the child I might have had if not for my own wicked mistakes.”

He shook his head. “I was wrong, for you are not like Lady Hester in the ways that count most. You have her courage, but where she was arrogant, you are loving. You judge yourself far too harshly, for your errors were those of youth and confusion, not malice or pettiness.”

Her expression showed that she was unconvinced, so he said in a conversational tone, “My outspoken mother always did her best to educate me about women, for she believed men and women should understand each other better. Once she told me that the early months of pregnancy can bring wild, unpredictable mood swings; surely that had something to do with the irrational panic you felt when you discovered you were with child.”

He began chafing Juliet’s hand between his, trying to restore warmth to her chilled fingers. “Perhaps you would have had the miscarriage even if you had stayed home—many pregnancies end in the first two or three months. In fact, if the pregnancy was going badly, it might have affected how you were feeling. That happened to the wife of a friend of mine. She ran away too, but being much less adventurous than you, she only made it as far as her mother’s house, where she miscarried in more comfort than you did. She’s had two children since, without problems.”

There was a long silence before Juliet said wearily, “If that was also true of me, it would explain a great deal, but nothing can really absolve me of responsibility for my actions. I showed every variety of bad judgment.”

“If one can’t show bad judgment at eighteen, when can one do it?” He opened her hand and began tracing the lines of the palm. “Being right is all very well, but it is through our errors that we grow. You made mistakes, but you have also punished yourself greatly for them. Don’t you think you’ve suffered enough?”

“But you suffered as much or more for my mistakes,” Juliet said sorrowfully. “How can I ever make that up to you?”

He smiled a little. “That’s easy—the way to make amends is by being my wife, not by condemning me to a lifetime of loneliness.”

Her fingers curled around his. A little desperately, she said, “I don’t understand how you can still want me.”

For a baffled moment he wondered what more he could do, for he had already said as clearly as possible that he loved and wanted her. Then he thought of the storytellers he had heard through the East, who knew how to multiply the power of words. It was worth a try. “Let me tell you a fairy tale.”

She gave him a puzzled glance, so he tugged on her hand. After momentary resistance she allowed herself to be extricated from her corner. When she was seated on the cushions beside him, he began, “Long ago, in a far green country, there was a young man called Ross. Although he was reliable, serious, intelligent, and honorable, he was not very interesting.” Ross thought a moment. “Probably all of those boring virtues are the reasons he was dull.”

Juliet opened her mouth to protest, but he said firmly, “Silence. This is my fairy tale and I get to tell it my way.”

In a lilting voice he continued, “The fellow had romantic dreams about visiting distant lands and having adventures, but being sober, more of an observer than a doer, and, as I said, more than a little dull, he might never have tried to make his dreams come true.

“He wasn’t a prince, not even a lord except by courtesy title, but one day he did meet a princess named Juliet. Not only was she the most beautiful girl in the world, but she actually had lived in foreign lands and had had adventures, not just dreamed about them. When he was with her, everything seemed possible, the sun shone more brightly, and she made him laugh. With her he was immersed in life, not just an observer, for she brought out a passionate side of his nature that he had not known he possessed. Not just passion of the body, but of the spirit.”

Ross raised her hand and kissed the palm, pressing his lips against the heart line. “He hadn’t known what he was missing until he met her. Being no fool and quite madly in love, our hero persuaded his very young princess to marry him before she had time to have second thoughts. At first he was sure that, as in all fairy tales, they would live happily ever after.

“But any story worth telling needs conflict, and this conflict began when a dragon of dubious nature carried off the princess. Or perhaps she ran away with the dragon voluntarily—that part of the story is a little unclear and not really important. What did matter is that when she left, she took the sunshine away, and all the laughter died.”

Ross could feel Juliet shrinking away from him, so he put his arm around her shoulders to keep her near. “Don’t worry, the story isn’t over. For the next dozen years, our hero did proper heroic things. He visited exotic lands, had adventures, saw wonderful sights, and met fascinating people. Sometimes he went home and wrote books and gave a few lectures and was told what a fine, brave fellow he was. Sometimes—not very often— he met another lady he liked, but he never found one who could make him forget his lost princess, or who could touch his deepest emotions. It was quite a decent life, for he achieved many of his dreams, and somewhere along the way he became much more interesting. But he never achieved the deepest, most secret dream of all, which was to find his long-lost princess.

“Then, just before his traveling days were done, he went on one last quest. And when he did, he found Juliet again and learned that she was not just the most beautiful woman in the world, but also the bravest. Occasionally he wanted to turn her over his knee and paddle her lovely derriere. More often he wanted to make love to her. And when he finally did so, he realized that he loved her as much as he had when he was twenty-one.”

Ross turned on the divan so that he was facing Juliet. Her body was less taut now, and when he pulled her closer, she slid her arm around his waist and let her head rest against his shoulder. Softly he continued, “His princess felt that she had betrayed him, but he knew that he could trust her with his life, and he did. Together they were able to achieve the impossible. She even saved his life by slaying a very ugly monster, which was not a very ladylike thing to do, but vastly useful.”

He began stroking her hair, letting the bright spun-silk strands drift between his fingers. “By the time the quest had ended, our hero loved his princess more than ever, and he knew that if he couldn’t persuade her to come home, he would never have sunshine, or laughter, or passion again.”

No longer a storyteller, Ross whispered, “Believe that I love you, Juliet. Then let us begin a life together again.”

She caught his hand and held it against her cheek, not looking in his eyes. “It’s strange,” she said, her voice haunted. “More than anything on earth, I want to please you. I used to have fantasies that I would sacrifice my life for yours, and just before I died, you would forgive me. But while it would be easy to suffer for your sake, it is hard, so hard, to do something that will make me happy when I don’t deserve it.”

“If you want to please me, you have no choice but to be happy yourself, for when you are miserable, so am I.” Ross’s fingers tightened around hers. “Separately, we are two restless, lonely people, but together we can make each other whole. There has been enough pain, my love. It’s time for joy.”

Juliet felt as if her heart was breaking. She did not deserve such love and loyalty, yet Ross was right. They were bound together for life; nothing in the past had severed that bond, and she knew intuitively that nothing in the future would either. Ross had also been right to say that it was not his forgiveness that she needed, but her own.

It was time to forgive herself, for both their sakes.

She inhaled deeply, than raised her head and looked into his dark eyes. “I often wondered why I didn’t die in Malta. Perhaps… perhaps it was to give me a chance to make everything up to you.” Forcing her tears to remain unshed, she gave her husband a tremulous smile. “If you’re sure you need me to be happy, I love you too much to say no.”

There was a still moment when nothing more was said because nothing needed to be. Then Ross reached out and opened Juliet’s silk caftan to find the ring suspended around her throat. Taking the chain in his hands, he broke it with one quick movement, the links biting into his palms, then took the ring and dropped the chain on the divan.

Slipping the gold band onto the first knuckle of her third finger, left hand, he caught her gaze with his and said solemnly, “I, Ross, take thee, Juliet, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, forsaking all others, till death do us part.” Sliding the ring all the way onto her finger, he finished, “With this ring I thee rewed.” Then he raised her hand and pressed his lips to her taut fingers.

The tears she had tried to suppress began slipping down Juliet’s cheeks as she lifted his left hand and clasped it tightly against her heart. Phrase by phrase, she repeated the vows, then finished, “Whither thou goest, I shall go, beloved husband, for I am yours, body, mind, and soul.” Leaning forward, she kissed him, her touch both thanks and promise.

As breath and heartbeats quickened, Ross swept Juliet into his arms and carried her to his bed, and there they reconsecrated their marriage. For the first time since they had met again, there were no shadows or unanswered questions between them; the worst had been revealed and it had not destroyed their marriage, but made it stronger. They made love with passion and tenderness and a depth of tempered emotion more profound than anything their youthful selves had been capable of.

Afterward they lay in each other’s arms and talked of a future that was no longer forbidden ground. Finally their voices slowed, but before they drifted into sleep, Juliet dared to ask a question that would have been unthinkable before. “If I had learned that you were in Malta and gone to you instead of the sea,” she said hesitantly, “would you ever have been able to forgive my unfaithfulness?”

His brows drew together as he gave her question serious thought. “I would have taken you back because I loved you, and because you were my wife,” he said slowly. “And I think we could have been happy again, but I would never have forgotten, and what you had done would have always been between us, like an indelible stain. But I feel as if we have spent the last four months forged by fires that have burned away everything unessential. Malta seems so distant, so unimportant, that forgiveness is not even an issue, because what we have endured has melded us together so closely that there is no room for shadows. For me, the past truly does not matter. What does matter is now, and that we love each other.”

Content, Juliet rested her head on his shoulder and prepared to sleep in his arms. In a voice meant more for herself than Ross she whispered, “Now and forever, amen.”

Southhampton Harbor October 1841

As porters carried their luggage from the stateroom, Juliet lay back against the sofa pillows and watched dreamily. She had done quite a lot of that lately, as she and Ross had slipped seamlessly into a marriage that combined the comfort of long acquaintance with the passion and wonder of first love.

It had taken a month to wind up her affairs at Serevan, though they had sent an immediate message to Lady Cameron in Constantinople, to end her uncertainty. As Ross had suggested, Juliet transferred ownership of the fortress to Saleh. They left Serevan the same day as Ian, she and Ross heading west and her brother, still thin but now tanned and fit, going south to the Persian Gulf.

The journey to Constantinople had been a leisurely one. In Meshed they called on Reza to assure themselves that he was well. His grateful family’s hospitality was so pressing that they could have spent the rest of their lives if they had wished to. In Teheran they said farewell to Murad, leaving him with such a large bonus that he was, very briefly, speechless.

In Constantinople Juliet had had an emotional reunion with her mother, who was more than a little smug over the accuracy of her maternal instinct; not only had she been right about Ian, but her long-held belief that Juliet and Ross belonged together had been spectacularly confirmed. Her vigil over, Lady Cameron traveled with her daughter and son-in-law the length of the Mediterranean, leaving them in Gibraltar when she decided to spend a sunny winter with friends.

And now, finally, they were back in England. Juliet’s musings were interrupted when Ross returned to the stateroom and perched on the edge of the sofa. “Ready to go ashore?”

“Yes, but I’m going to miss making love on the water. There’s something very nice about the way the ship rolls.”

He chuckled. “Remember the little river at Chapelgate? If you miss the water, we can put blankets on the floor of a punt.”

“Sounds worth trying.” Juliet gazed at him in admiration. “You really are the handsomest man in the world, all cool English elegance.” Then the curve of her mouth became wicked. “Who would believe what a splendid
bozkashi
barbarian you were?”

“I will remind you what a barbarian I can be tonight.” He laid a gentle hand on her stomach, getting a kick in return. “Hmm, the heir is restless today.”

Juliet laid her hand over his. “He knows he’s coming home.”

“If it is a he, think of how much he will impress the other schoolboys when he tells them he was conceived in Bokhara.” Ross stood and took her hand to help her up. “Time to go. I’m looking forward to getting home to Chapelgate. Tomorrow we can call on Sara and Mikahl and meet my new goddaughter.”

Juliet was glad to have his help in rising, since she was not as nimble as usual. She had been slow to realize that she was pregnant, because she had felt wonderful, entirely different from the first time. Perhaps Ross’s speculation was correct and there had been a physical problem before, or perhaps the difference was that now she was ready to be a mother. Either way, being with child again had mysteriously healed much of her grief and guilt about what had happened before. Perhaps she was too full of happiness to have room for guilt.