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Authors: Jenny Brown

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BOOK: Star Crossed Seduction
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Now it was time for Trev to make his final move. “Your Majesty is too good, but if you would, there is a service you could perform that would cost you nothing and be of infinite value to Miss Smith.”

“It would be my pleasure,” the king said with a smug smile. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Your Majesty,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I am the woman your enemies blamed for the theft of the Jewel of Vadha, though, as you know, it never was stolen. Your enemies have put a price on my head.”

“By gad, Sir Benjamin, I thought you told me this was the Cotton King’s daughter.”

“I did, sir.”

“But I was told the jewel was taken by a pickpocket.”

“A terrible misunderstanding,” Trev interjected. “You see, my intended refused Sir Humphrey’s advances. That’s why he accused her of theft, to get back at her.”

“Cad,” the king said. “But that’s just the sort of behavior I’d expect from the kind of man who would put his influence behind that bitch who pretends to be my queen. If he’s behind this accusation, I shall take even more pleasure in pardoning Miss Smith. See to it, Sir Benjamin. Though, in return for my clemency, I must ask you one indulgence, my dear.” He turned back to Temperance.

Trev braced himself.

“I am a collector, my dear,” the king said, with a sparkle in the eye that, in his youth had been charming enough to win him the sobriquet, Prince Florizel. “As the world knows. I collect fine paintings, statuary, and the exquisite palaces that will remain as a testament of my taste for generations to come. But I have a secret collection from which I take far more delight.” His voice dropped. “My dear, may I ask you to give me a single lock of your lovely hair to add to that collection? I have garnered tresses from every beauty in the kingdom. My collection would be a sorry one if it did not include yours.”

Trev let out his breath. It could have been a lot worse.

Sir Benjamin discreetly withdrew a pair of shears from the royal desk and handed it to the king. With a look at Trev, Temperance unpinned the back of her coiffure. When one long tress came free she held it out toward the king, who snipped it off.

“Beautiful,” their monarch said, stroking it with one pudgy finger before handing it to his private secretary. “I shall treasure it. See to her pardon, Sir Benjamin. We can’t have the hangman’s rope defile such a swanlike neck. Then, thank God I can put the whole pestilent business of that jewel behind me.” He paused, and added, “Sapphire is so much more fitting for a king, don’t you think, Sir Benjamin? And it goes so much better with my eyes.”

And with that, Sir Benjamin motioned to them that their audience was over.

I
t had been too easy. As grateful as he was that the king had pardoned Temperance, Trev knew what must come next. The king might be a fool—but his private secretary was not, and the man’s expressions as they had played out the farce they’d just concluded showed it was only a matter of time until he paid the price for their effrontery.

The department would learn he’d betrayed their plot to His Majesty, and what would follow would be only what he’d expected. But it mattered not. He’d achieved the end for which he’d intended to sacrifice his life. The king had ordered that Temperance be pardoned. Sir Benjamin must honor that command. Whatever happened next, she would be safe.

When they had regained the hallway Sir Benjamin whispered, “I should like one last word with you, Captain, if you would follow me to my office.” He turned toward Temperance, “You, remain here.”

Trev had been right. Sir Benjamin had taken a dim view of their maneuvering. He was glad she wouldn’t have to witness what came next—nor be given a chance to employ some even-more-daring scheme to keep him from suffering the punishment he knew must be his due. From here on in, the blame must fall entirely on himself.

The king’s private secretary ushered him into his office and closed the door behind him. Only then did he fix Trev with an eye accustomed to command, and say, “A clever maneuver, Captain. I must confess I found it entertaining. Never in a thousand years should I have thought of such an original method of ridding the king of his obsession with the jewel.”

Sir Benjamin was playing with him. Now that he’d let him know that he’d seen through his ridiculous ploy, he was delaying the moment when Trev would learn exactly how he’d make him pay for it. But he had expected nothing less, and he would accept his punishment without demure, for he had achieved his objective.

“His Majesty commanded you to give Temperance her pardon,” Trev said. “Once you have done that, I will be content to bear whatever you have in store for me.”

“Have no fear, she’ll get her pardon,” Sir Benjamin replied. “And as far as what I have in store for you, you may be sure I will let Mr. Fanshawe know how deftly you handled the situation.”

He wished Sir Benjamin wouldn’t toy with him like this. There was no need for such heavy irony. He knew what he’d done, and he knew what price he would be made to pay for it. When the king took his vengeance on the department, Fanshawe would learn who had betrayed their secrets to him. Even if Sir Benjamin didn’t punish him for his effrontery in pretending the king had sent the jewel to the Nawab, the department would ensure he paid the ultimate price for his betrayal. But Temperance would go free. She could depart at last, for America, as she had always longed to do, and live out her life there safe from the conniving of these men to whom he’d so mistakenly given his loyalty.

“I had no choice, sir, but to do what I did,” he said stiffly, even though he knew no defense could mitigate his punishment. “My honor required that I save Temperance from what was an unjust accusation. It was my partiality for her that drew her into the department’s plot. She was blameless, and it wasn’t right that she should pay such a heavy price for giving me her heart.”

Still playing his infuriating game, Sir Benjamin nodded. “Quite so, Captain. And after meeting your intended, I can fully understand your dismay. I must apologize for having contributed to it. We didn’t know she was the Cotton King’s daughter, or we should not have involved her in our scheme.”

Our scheme?
Surely the king’s own man couldn’t have been involved in the department’s plotting to keep the jewel from the king.

As if hearing his unasked question, Sir Benjamin added, “It is my task to serve His Majesty’s interests to the best of my ability—even at those times when he may not clearly perceive them. No military man could mistake where they lay in this particular circumstance.

“The nation could not afford a war with the Nawab of Bundilore, but the king’s obsession with the jewel put us in a thorny situation. Your solution, as unconventional as it was, was a stroke of genius. Sir Charles didn’t lie when he told us you were the most brilliant man he’d ever trained. Without your intervention, I fear the king’s obsession with the jewel might have dragged on for many more months.”

It wasn’t his genius but Temperance’s for which they must be grateful. Had he not yielded to her entreaties, his interview with the king would have ended badly. Had he followed his own plan and confessed that the department he served had robbed the king of his jewel, his monarch would have viewed him as a traitor, not a savior. Not to mention how much he owed to Temperance’s ability to reduce any red-blooded male to a helpless slave once she set her mind to it.

“I am glad, sir, to have been able to be of use,” Trev said, trying to keep the irony out of his voice.

“I will commend you to both Mr. Fanshawe and Sir Charles for finding so clever a way to resolve the situation. It caused no one to lose face. You can expect to receive a promotion upon your return to India.”

“I thank you, sir,” he said quietly, as Sir Benjamin seated himself at his desk and began to fill out an elaborately printed document. “But if it is not too much to ask, can I beg you satisfy me on one last particular?”

Sir Benjamin looked up with an expression that flirted with annoyance.

Trev took a deep breath. “Did Major Stanley play a role in your scheme?”

“Why? Do you wish me to reward him, too?” The private secretary’s tone suggested he wished to answer no more questions.

Well, Trev must be grateful that Sir Benjamin had revealed to him as much as he had. That in itself had been a miracle considering the secrecy that surrounded all the department’s operations. But then Sir Benjamin added, “Major Stanley is far too devoted to you for us to have risked involving him in our scheme. He thinks the world of you. We couldn’t trust him not to tip you off if he knew of the role we’d chosen for you to play.”

Trev could not prevent a smile from rising to his lips even if it might further annoy Sir Benjamin. Everything that mattered to him had been preserved, including his most valued friendship.

Sir Benjamin handed him the document. “Here is Miss Smith’s pardon, and here—” He drew out another paper from a drawer in his desk and scribbled on it for a moment before handing it, too, to Trev, “—is a wedding gift from His Majesty, given in appreciation for your service to King and Country.”

Trev glanced at it and his mouth dropped open with surprise. It was a bank draft for a truly eye-popping sum. “I must ask you to thank His Majesty on my behalf for this very generous gift.”

“You earned it,” Sir Benjamin said.

“Yes,” Trev agreed with only a hint of a smile. “I suppose we did.”

Chapter 23

 

T
emperance could barely restrain herself from barging into the office where the king’s private secretary had taken Trev. She had no illusions what must be taking place behind that closed door. The king was a fool, but his private secretary had not been taken in by the way she’d manipulated his master, and now, without doubt, Trev was learning what price he must pay for trying to bamboozle their sovereign. He’d trusted his life to her and allowed her to dictate how they’d make their final desperate bid.

But it had been desperate, and though it might have saved her—it couldn’t save Trev. As much as she might want to burst in and try some new scheme to keep him from making a final, fatal sacrifice, she knew she must not. She had done what she could. They had pitted the strength of what they were together against the forces of the tyrant king. Now she could only honor whatever further sacrifice Trev might make for her by accepting whatever he got for it in return.

She must take the freedom for which he’d given up so much and use it to go to America. Once there, she must rededicate her life to the fight for liberty. It was the least she could do to honor the sacrifice he had made for her.

But she did not look forward to it. Life without him would be filled with dust and ashes. She would have preferred to have joined him in paying that ultimate price, but she couldn’t do that. She must give him this one last pleasure, of knowing he had given his life for hers.

At last, the door cracked open, and he emerged from Sir Benjamin’s office. She arranged her features to give no hint of the anxiety she felt and rose to meet him. His expression was impassive, too. Whatever his fate might be, he would give her no hint of it here, where others might see. He took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze, and led her silently after the flunky who guided them out of the maze of hallways that comprised Carlton House until he deposited them, at last, on the street.

“How bad is it?” she asked, when they stood on the broad avenue of Pall Mall, alone at last.

“You are safe,” he said. “Both from His Majesty’s forces and from those I served.”

“And you. Are you safe?”

The moment stretched out intolerably long as she prepared herself to hear his answer. Then she saw the huge smile that swept over his features and the joy that filled his eyes.

“I am safe,” he said. “As safe as you are. Sir Benjamin was aware of Fanshawe’s plotting all along. He, too, wished to send the jewel back to India to prevent the war, so he was grateful that we found a way to get the king to give up his inconvenient obsession with the jewel.”

“Then the nightmare is finally over, and we are both free?”

He nodded.

“Then nothing stands in the way of our going to India together.”

That wiped the smile off his face. He let out a long slow breath and made no answer to her question.

A cold gust of wind made the leaves scuttle along the pavement. She shivered. His deep-set eyes held that shuttered look again, and in a flash she knew what he would tell her next. He knew as well as she did that the dream they had shared together so briefly must remain only that, a dream. Much as she loved him, she could not go with him to India—not after having come face-to-face with the king he served. Not after learning the true character of the men who were his superiors.

In a level voice, he said, “Sir Benjamin will recommend me to Sir Charles for my service to the nation. He gave me a generous gift—a wedding present for the two of us—from the king.”

He would have to give it back. There would be no wedding. She couldn’t go back to India as the bride of a man who was pledged to serve such men. The week they’d spent together so joyfully had made her think she could give up her dream of dedicating her life to liberty. But she’d been wrong. She couldn’t waste her life serving the venal king they’d just tricked. It would require the sacrifice of everything she really was.

Trev must know that, too. How could he not?

He drew in a deep breath, and said, “When I proposed to you, I asked you to come with me when I rejoined my regiment. But now I know I can’t take you with me to India.”

The words knocked the breath out of her even though he had put into words the same truth that had been so clear to her only a moment before. But she had been fooling herself even then. Only now was she forced to admit to herself how desperately she had hoped he would talk her out of her newfound resolve.

But he had not. He would return to India alone and, with him gone, she would be as bereft as she would have been had Sir Benjamin ordered him hanged. She closed her eyes, willing herself to find the strength to survive it.

She must not blame him. He was doing what he had to do. She could not ask him to give up the life he had chosen. He, too, must be true to what he was, and he had already given her so much. He’d been willing to sacrifice his life for her. She could not be selfish now.

“You are right.” She forced the words out. “As much as I love you, it wouldn’t have worked. I couldn’t have made myself into what the wife of an officer must be. It will be so hard to say farewell, but we have no choice. I wish you success in the future. You deserve it.”

The moment had come that she had promised him, when they would say their farewells and cry the tears they must cry. She hoped she had the strength to give him what he would need, so he could survive their parting and move on.

“No,” he protested. “You don’t understand me.” His indigo eyes glowed beneath the slashes of his brows. “I can’t take you to India because I won’t be returning there myself. I can no longer serve this king of ours. I can’t obey men who are willing to sacrifice the lives of innocent women so casually. They have abused my loyalty long enough. I will resign my commission.”

“And after that, what will you do?”

He reached for her hand. “If you will have me, Tem, I should like to go with you to America. We could both start new lives there. Perhaps we could use what it is that we become when we join together to serve a cause more worthy of our loyalty.” He took a step closer to her. “Would you go to the New World with me and live out your life as plain Mrs. Trevelyan?”

She threw herself into his arms. “Oh yes! Nothing would please me more.” She hugged him more tightly, crying, “I’m so happy, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I know exactly what to do with you, if you will allow me,” he said with a grin. His azure pupils sparkled within their circle of coppery fire as he brought his lips down on hers.

Warmth flowed through her entire body as her heart opened to him. She was filled to bursting with the love that had taken the two of them so far. They stood locked together, their souls joined as one.

After eons had passed, he released her. There remained only one small shadow to cloud their happiness.

“If only I hadn’t thrown away the ring you gave me,” she said, sadly. “I will always reproach myself that I didn’t trust you when it mattered most. I suppose I must accept that its loss is the price that I must pay for that failure.”

He reached into his pocket and fumbled about for a moment before drawing forth a small packet, which he handed to her. She unwrapped it, finding within a ring that looked so much like the one she’d thrown away, she thought for a moment he must have bought her a new one that was the twin of the first. But closer observation revealed the faint scratches and small dent that marred its surface. It was the very ring he’d given her—the one with which they had plighted their troth.

She fought back tears. “You kept it. Despite what I’d done to it—and what you thought I’d done to you.”

“I couldn’t give it up. Just as I couldn’t give you up. Here, give it to me.”

She did, and then held out her left hand so he could slip it on her fourth finger. Healing warmth flooded through her.

She brought the ring closer to her face to inspect it. “It’s sadly scratched,” she said. “How vehement I was.”

“You had ample provocation. But if you like, I will buy you a new ring that won’t bring back such unhappy memories.”

“No. I’d rather keep this one. Its scratches will remind me of the high cost of giving in to suspicion and distrust.”

“Her Ladyship would undoubtedly tell us that distrust is the price we pay for our Scorpionic natures.”

She grinned. “She would, and she would be right. We must not fool ourselves that we will always find it easy to trust each other, even after all we’ve gone through. So though I will treasure your ring as a symbol of our love, I will also wear it to remind me of the trust I must always give you if we are to keep that love alive.”

“We owe so much to Lady Hartwood and her astrological insights,” he said. “And I suspect we will owe her more. For my mother recently informed me of her delight that Her Ladyship had told her she’d found the perfect wife for me. I must assume she meant you. My mother is a great believer in the stars, so that will smooth the path toward our getting her blessing on our union.”

“And my father, did he give you permission to wed me, too?”

“He did, though he vowed in his letter he wouldn’t let you shame him any further by having me marry you in your shift. So you’ll take your inheritance, missy, and there’s an end to it. He’s a hard man, your father, but perhaps when we visit him together, he can be brought to appreciate the real treasure he let slip through his hands.”

She embraced him again. Perhaps, with Trev’s help, she could finally heal that wound, too. When she came up for air, she said, “The least we can do is to ask Her Ladyship to help us set the date for our nuptials. I’m sure her ancestor, Lilly, will have something to say about the matter.”

“Much of it confusing.” He smiled. “But your words remind me of the one thing that puzzled me when we faced the king. How did you know that the topaz’s astrological power would strengthen Queen Caroline? Lady Hartwood had said nothing about that. Did she tell it to you in private?”

“Oh no. I made that up. It didn’t take knowledge of the king’s chart to know that his hatred of the queen was the key to getting power over him. As you say, even love cannot completely free me of my Scorpionic tendencies though I shall take care not to employ them on you.”

“Some of those tendencies I should want you to employ,” he said with a grin. “The famous Scorpio lust, for example. You may indulge in it all you wish. And that thing you do when you flutter your lashes that is so ruthlessly enchanting—I shouldn’t wish you to give that up, either. Though in the future, I humbly implore that you use it only on me.”

BOOK: Star Crossed Seduction
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