Natalya (44 page)

"And what of the life
you
returned to?"

He shook his head. "Everything had changed, just as you warned me it might. "My closest friend was left to me, but nothing else was the same. Also, discovering that Francesca had made off with Mother's jewels didn't improve my spirits." Shivering slightly in the breeze, he turned on his side and pressed the length of his strong body against Natalya's welcoming softness. "This is a devil of a conversation for us to be having. Let me close by saying that whatever regrets I had about my return to London were dispelled after I arrived here. When I met your family and entered their home, I realized that nothing had been real before. My past had been a maze of smoke and mirrors." He kissed her deeply, his passion mounting.
"This,
my darling, is life as it is meant to be."

* * *

During the hours when the sun mellowed before accepting the twilight, Natalya lay safe in Grey's arms, napping peacefully. He awoke first, almost surprised to find that she was not a dream—and even more surprised to realize that he had no regrets about all that had transpired between them. She fit against him as naturally as their thoughts and conversation flowed together. Natalya was right: God had created her as his mate.

"I feel
wonderful
," she said suddenly.

Grey saw that she was looking at him with alert turquoise eyes, a smile playing over her mouth. When she began to stretch, still in the circle of his arms, he bent to trail kisses from the hollow of her belly to the pink crests of each beautiful breast. "I could make love to you forever and still crave more," he said huskily, his fingers straying lower to caress her intimately.

Later, Natalya bounded out of bed and ran to the garden windows. "Oh, Grey, look what a beautiful evening it's going to be! Let's go outside for a walk. I've been wanting to give you a proper tour of Society Hill, and I have so much energy!"

"But—"

"Have no fear, my love, I shall not be recognized." Her face shone with an impudent smile. "I'll disguise myself. No one will know me. I'll borrow clothes from—Fedbusk!"

Grey fell back on the pillows, laughing. "
Fedbusk!
You're outrageous!"

"Perhaps, but you must admit it is an inspired notion."

Half an hour later they were standing in the stair hall. Grey was drawing on his gloves, and Fedbusk himself was glowering at Natalya, apparently unamused by her comical appearance. Since they were nearly the same height, she fit easily into one of Fedbusk's butler costumes. The length of the black coat and breeches was nearly perfect, but Natalya had tied a black cravat around the waistband of the breeches, which ballooned around her thighs. Grey had helped her tie a white stock, which looked charming against her delicate face. She wore her own white stockings, handkerchiefs stuffed into Fedbusk's buckled shoes, and a wide-brimmed black hat in the Quaker style that covered her hair and the upper part of her face.

"'Tis bad enough that
I'm
forced to wear those clothes, but when you give them to a woman, I cannot approve," Fedbusk grumbled. "And, I'd like to know, sir, why it is that I am locked in this bleedin' house when
she's
allowed to parade around town with you in
my
clothes!"

Grey calmly raised his eyebrows. "Hold your temper, old fellow. Miss Beauvisage is wearing these clothes because they render her unrecognizable. Perhaps if you were to don
her
garments, I could permit you to roam at liberty."

"Have you taken leave of your senses... sir?" Fedbusk spluttered.

"A jest, old chap," Grey reassured him, biting back a smile. "Try to be patient for one more day. After I recover the jewels from Lady Altburne tomorrow night, it won't matter if she knows that you're in Philadelphia. Until then I'd rather not take unnecessary risks. I simply don't trust the woman, and the less she knows, the better I'll feel."

"It's a mighty queer arrangement, if you ask me," declared the grizzled seaman.

"I believe you've previously registered that opinion," Grey observed dryly.

Speed came out of the kitchen then, hurrying down the hall with a piece of spiced honey bread in one hand and a folded note in the other. "There you are, sir. I've been waiting to give this to you." He turned over the paper to his employer, then glanced at Natalya, widened his eyes, and grinned. "I say! You're quite a sight, Miss Beauvisage. May I remark that you look much more attractive in those clothes than Fedbusk?"

"You're too kind, Mr. Speed," she replied, smiling at him under her lashes and sketching a curtsy.

"Humdudgeon," Fedbusk grunted.

Grey, having read the note, folded it and handed it back to Speed. "Excellent. Our appointment is fixed for tomorrow at five o'clock."

"Lady Altburne conveyed the reply to me personally, sir, and said to tell you that she is looking forward to your visit with great pleasure."

"I don't doubt it one bit," Natalya said, frowning under the wide brim of her Quaker hat.

Fedbusk threw open the door. " Are you two going or not?"

"Don't be jealous, minx," Grey whispered as they stepped outside. "It doesn't suit you."

"Oh, I'm not jealous. I trust you implicitly. I just don't trust
her."

Then Francesca was forgotten. Strolling down Spruce Street next to Grey, she felt positively frolicsome. Passing carriages held occupants who had fawned over Natalya and her book at the Hampshires' party and now only glanced quizzically at the odd little black-clad Quaker man with the spring in his step.

"Isn't this fun!" she exclaimed to Grey. "I only wish I could hold your arm. I want to touch you all the time."

He gave her an affectionate smile and caught himself before he reached out to caress her cheek. Walking down the wide, straight street lined with horse chestnut, lime, and maple trees, Natalya pointed out residences of friends and famous Americans. Society Hill, with its beautiful mansions and quaint row houses, had been the home at various times of Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and such illustrious Philadelphia family names as Willing, Powel, Chew, Bingham, Biddle, and Penn.

"You know," Natalya explained, "Society Hill didn't get its name because it's a wealthy neighborhood. It comes from the Free Society of Traders, which was granted a charter by William Penn around 1680 and set up a warehouse near the waterfront." She continued to instruct him as they walked along the river, peeked at the
Wild Rover,
then started west on Pine Street.

Noting a street sign, Grey remarked, "This is the street where Francesca lives. Perhaps we ought to walk in a different direction."

They had just turned north on Third Street when a plain hired carriage passed by. Natalya noticed the occupant, who was craning his neck to stare at them. "Grey, do you know a thin man with gray hair and gold spectacles?"

"I don't believe so. Why do you ask?"

"Well, the man in that carriage going down Pine Street was staring at us as if he'd seen a ghost. Assuming that I am unrecognizable, I would deduce that he was looking at you."

Grey shrugged, remembering the description Stringfellow had given of Francesca's gentleman friend. There was no point in worrying Natalya, so he merely said, "Perhaps I reminded him of someone else."

They were approaching a huge mansion set back from the street behind a high fence. "This is the Washington Benevolent Society now, I'm told, but when I left for France William Bingham still lived there. He's moved to France now himself; apparently he's never fully recovered from the death of his wife, Anne. The Mansion House was the centerpiece of President Washington's Republican Court when Philadelphia was America's capital, and Anne Bingham was an elegant and lovely hostess. Don't you find it rather sad that everything could change so quickly? Twenty years ago all of American society vied for invitations to the Binghams' lavish parties, and Anne and William had power, beauty, wealth, and influence. Now... it's all over, and they are both gone." Natalya paused, gazing pensively at the Mansion House. "Of course, Meagan Hampshire knew them rather well and says that Anne's beauty was superficial. Perhaps that was their undoing."

"Unfortunately I am all too familiar with people of that sort," Grey said. "They rarely come to happy ends." He pointed up the street, glad of a distraction. "Isn't that your grandmother's house?"

" Yes. Might we visit her for a few minutes? I've been thinking of Grandmama a great deal these past two days, and there is something I need to say to her."

They strolled up the neat brick footpath to the home of Antonia Beauvisage, and Grey stood back as Natalya knocked. This time Mrs. Reeves answered the door. The pink-cheeked cook was nearly as old as her mistress and provided Antonia with welcome companionship. "Ah, Miss Natalya!" she exclaimed, as if the young woman's appearance were perfectly commonplace. "It's lovely to see you, and you, too, Mr. St. James. Mrs. Beauvisage is in the library."

Antonia, having overheard, met them in the hallway. She was looking especially pretty in an old-fashioned gown of azure blue silk trimmed with Alencon lace. Her expression, however, was apprehensive as she regarded her granddaughter through her tiny spectacles. After greetings were exchanged, she said in hushed tones, "I would invite you inside, but Mr. Saunders is here. We have been enjoying a lively game of backgammon. I must tell you frankly, my dear, that I was rather disappointed in your behavior when we encountered you at the garden party. I will not bring you into the same room with Barton if you are going to stare at him as if—"

"Grandmama, please don't go on," Natalya said, looking distraught. "That's why I've come... to speak to you about Mr. Saunders, and then, I hope, to speak to him."

"Perhaps I should join Mr. Saunders and allow you both some privacy," Grey interjected. He went into the library and took Antonia's chair at the game table.

"This won't take long, Grandmama, and I can say it standing right here. It was horrid of me to behave as I did when you introduced me to Mr. Saunders. I may have
said
nothing uncivil, but I am perfectly aware that my feelings were written on my face."

"Barton is a very kind and sensitive man, Talya. He has been so good to me—" Antonia's voice caught as tears pricked her eyes. "I understand that you were accustomed to thinking of me only with your grandfather, and, of course, so was I. When he died, there was a tremendous void in my life. God was generous enough to bring Barton, a man whom I could never compare to my Jean-Philippe. I have a great deal of love in my heart, nurtured during more than sixty years of marriage, and it makes me happy to have someone to care for again. It's true that I have a loving family, but all of you have lives of your own...."

Natalya put her arms around her grandmother. "I understand! Oh, Grandmama, I beg your pardon for my selfishness, and I want you to know that I have only good wishes for you and Mr. Saunders. You see, I have finally opened my own heart to love, and I understand many things now that confused me before."

"Is it Mr. St. James?" Antonia smiled in delight, her green eyes sparkling. "Aha! I sensed as much the moment I first saw the two of you together. Now then, Talya, what on earth possessed you to put on that ridiculous costume? The hat, in particular, is singularly unflattering."

Laughing, Natalya kept an arm around her grandmother's waist and steered her toward the library. "I fear that you are correct as usual, Grandmama. Why don't we join the gentlemen so that we can all become better acquainted?"

"Nothing could please me more, my darling girl."

Chapter 28

May
17-18, 1814

Francesca sat at her dressing table, the box containing the Hartford jewels open before her. She touched each priceless piece, gazing into the glittering depths of the gems and holding them against her cheek. Beautifully crafted gold, flawlessly cut diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, rubies, amethysts, warm and luminous pearls; all were here, and they belonged to her. It was more difficult for Francesca to part with these treasures than any human being. Promising that they would soon be back safely in her care, she reluctantly closed the box, locked it, and returned the key to its hiding place.

Francesca had mixed emotions about giving the jewels to David, even for a day. She had made the suggestion so that he would feel more secure and believe that they truly were operating as partners in this scheme. In fact, David could scarcely have been more in the dark, and Francesca intended that he stay there. Her real reason for sending him to Belle Maison had more to do with keeping him well out of the way during her meeting with Grey than with any notion that David's "wooing" might induce Natalya Beauvisage to forget his quite unforgettable brother. Of course, Francesca's schemes invariably were multilayered, and this was no exception. Grudgingly realistic, she had to consider the possibility that her own plan for tomorrow evening's assignation with Grey might go awry, in which case she would be glad that the jewels were hidden outside of this house.