Rules of Surrender (34 page)

Absurdly, she thrilled to his words.

”I am happy, and you are happy. When I have recovered, and this may be“—he lifted his hand, fingers spread—”a year from now, I will wake you, and we will again take each other. Now, sleep, Charlotte, my wife.“

They settled together, shoulder to shoulder.

He thought he’d won.

She knew he had.

CHAPTER 30

The wedding a month ago had been a resounding success, and everyone in the
ton
was obsequiously mindful that Adorna had made it so.

The ceremony had been poignant, the food and drink had received high praise, the orchestra had played the night away, Wynter’s departure with Charlotte had caused an immense amount of satisfying gossip and the
ton
now waited anxiously to see how Adorna would top that on the morrow during the Sereminian reception. Adorna smiled as she walked toward the stairway. As if there could be doubt.

”M’lady, m’lady!“ The poor dear footman Harris rushed toward her. ”Cook says th‘ ducks haven’t arrived from London yet.“ He looked absolutely beleaguered with his hair standing on end.

Adorna patted his arm soothingly. ”If there are no ducks for the dinner, then Cook shall dig a pit and roast an oxen. I’m sure the Sereminian delegation will enjoy it.“

Harris nodded, bowed and rushed back toward the kitchens.

Adorna climbed the steps.

The skeptics didn’t know her. When the Sereminian royal family left Austinpark Manor, they would be charmed and entertained, Queen Victoria would be gratified and Adorna would be the most celebrated hostess in England.

Adorna quite looked forward to that.

”My lady!“ Miss Symes hurried down the corridor toward her. ”Someone at the wedding stole the linens in the west wing and we can’t make up all the beds.“

”At least this time they didn’t steal the silver.“ Adorna put her arm around the housekeeper. ”Queen Victoria’s whole idea is to give the Sereminian delegation a short tour of the English countryside and entertainment in a casual setting. Her Majesty, Prince Albert, the court and the Sereminians are coming in the morning and returning to London late in the afternoon. We don’t need beds made up.“

Miss Symes pulled a disgusted face. ”You know some of them will get tiddly and they’ll have to stay over.“

”But not all, dear, and we have enough linens for the east wing, don’t we?“

”Yes.“

”There. You see. We shall be fine.“

Miss Symes wasn’t happy; she hated to be in any way unprepared. ”Thank you, my lady. I’ll make up every chamber in the east wing at once.“ But she didn’t curtsy. Instead, she looked off to the side as if she were embarrassed. ”Have you… given thought about what to do about the ghost?“

”Oh, yes.“ Adorna touched her finger to her cheek. ”I suppose when the Sereminians are gone, I will have to do something about our little spook, won’t I?“

”If you want to have any upstairs maids left, you will, my lady.“

”I’ll take care of it, Miss Symes.“ Adorna sent her on her way. Miss Symes was a dear to worry so. Too bad that all of Adorna’s reassurances that some grand merriment would arise had not reassured her.

Of course, Adorna
would
think of something special to entertain the delegation, and if she didn’t, without a doubt some bit of excitement
would
turn up. After all, she hadn’t actually
planned
for Wynter to blow the lock off Charlotte’s door. That had been pure serendipity. Adorna always had been lucky that way.

Except with Lord Bucknell. She set her teeth and walked more quickly. He had disappeared during the wedding reception and never returned. She’d not heard one word from him, not even when she sent around a little note inquiring with the greatest delicacy about his health. Vile man. She didn’t know how she had ever thought she liked him. She certainly didn’t understand why she missed him.

The door of the nursery stood open, and from inside Adorna could hear Charlotte speaking. The sweet girl insisted on working with Robbie and Leila on their manners every day, ignoring Adorna’s reassurances that the children had been exemplary at the wedding.

Charlotte was a dear, but subdued since she’d returned from the hunting lodge with Wynter.

If Wynter would only stop searching for the embezzler! He went to London every day. He was there now. Adorna had thought his marriage would keep him home, but he matter-of-factly kissed Charlotte every morning and rode off to the city. Why, when Adorna had married Henry, he hadn’t been able to stay away for more than two hours at a time, and he’d been in his seventies!

Young people just didn’t have that spark anymore.

Pausing in the doorway, Adorna saw that Charlotte read from that book the children adored so—
The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments,
it was called, and they seemed to be in quite an exciting part. At least, it appeared to be exciting to Charlotte and Robbie. They sat side by side in chairs, hunched over the book, as Charlotte read faster and faster.

Leila, on the other hand, sat droopy-eyed on the floor, tracing the pattern in the carpet. Suddenly lifting her head, she said, ”Lady Miss Charlotte, can we call you
Mama
now?“

Robbie turned on his little sister. ”Leila. For the last time, be quiet! I want to know what happens.“

Leila flopped back on the floor in a huff.

Charlotte looked at a loss. ”Of course you may call me
Mama.
That would make me very happy.“

Adorna moved then, and Charlotte noticed her.

Robbie noticed her, too, and in obvious disgust tumbled to the floor beside Leila.

Leila grinned, lay down and drummed her heels on the carpet.

”May I come in and listen?“ Adorna hadn’t planned to attend them, but the household could run without her for a few minutes, and she sympathized with her grandson’s impatience.

Charlotte accepted her presence calmly, but then Charlotte accepted everything calmly these days. It was as if the tumult before the wedding had never occurred, and without a murmur of protest she had settled into being the wife Wynter had wanted. ”Of course, Mother, we’d be glad to have you join us. Robbie“—Charlotte touched his shoulder—”set a chair for your grandmama. She wants to hear the rest of the story.“

Robbie flashed Adorna a smile as he placed a chair on the other side of Charlotte. Since the wedding, she and her grandson had come to an accord of sorts. He didn’t throw his knife at her wallpaper, and she pretended not to notice when he sneaked out to play with his new friends. That included a rather subdued vicar’s son, who apparently made no more slurs about people’s accents or backgrounds.

A valuable lesson for both the lads, but the turn of events left Leila alone again.

Adorna seated herself and pretended to listen while Charlotte took up the thread of the story. In actuality, she watched Leila. Leila, who made a production of not listening. Leila, who played with the wooden horse Charlotte had given her, yet never complained that her riding lessons had been set back once again.

Leila. Adorna seldom found herself at a loss with other people, but Leila puzzled her. She was hiding something, of that Adorna was certain. But what? What secret could a child of Leila’s age keep from every loving adult? Why did Leila smile slyly when she thought herself unwatched? Why, when she talked about El Bahar, did she call it
home!
And why had Adorna once seen her helping herself to Cook’s homemade rolls, tying them into a handkerchief and sneaking them upstairs?

Adorna intended to find out—after the Sereminian reception.

Adorna realized the story had ended while she contemplated the enigma of her granddaughter, and Robbie watched her expectantly. ”Very good,“ she exclaimed. ”If every tale is as exciting as that one, I will have to read the whole book myself.“

”I want to,“ Robbie said. ”But I don’t. I like to hear M-mama read them.“

Charlotte’s face lit up in tangible pleasure, and she embraced Robbie.

Leila sat up. ”I wanted to call her that!“

Charlotte opened her other arm to Leila. ”I’ll be
Mama
to both of you.“

Leila came to Charlotte’s side and accepted the hug, but all the while she moved nervously as if she were a thoroughbred waiting for the start of a race.

”Charlotte, dear, do you know anything about Sereminia?“ Adorna asked brightly.

”Why, yes, we all do.“ Charlotte put on her governess face. ”When we studied Europe, we discovered that Sereminia is a small country in the Pyrenees on the border between France and Spain. What is their official language, Leila?“

Leila sniffed, but obediently answered, ”Their official language is Baminian.“

”Robbie, what are the names of their rulers?“

’They are ruled by King Danior and Queen Evangeline, and—”

Leila interrupted. “Why can’t
you
still be our governess? I don’t want a new governess.”

Looking troubled, Charlotte took a deep breath. “I’ll still supervise your lessons.”

“Why can’t
you
teach us?”

Robbie couldn’t stand his sister’s badgering anymore. “Because she’ll be having a baby, dunderhead.”

“No…” Charlotte said.

“I want to be the youngest.” Leila’s lower lip trembled.

Charlotte was blushing. “I’m not…”

As a tear trickled down Leila’s cheek, she turned to Robbie. “Will she have a baby
soon?”

“Real soon,” Robbie confirmed. “Papa is potent!”

Even the tip of Charlotte’s nose blushed. Adorna had to walk to the window to hide her irrepressible laughter, but when she turned back, she clearly saw the expression on Charlotte’s face. What she had previously suspected was confirmed. Charlotte was unhappy. Unhappy and determined to endure.

No unruly child ever put that sorrow on a woman’s face. This was Wynter’s fault.

Adorna sighed. She didn’t want to interfere, but if her son was as oblivious and complacent as he appeared, she would be forced to—after the Sereminian reception.

The thought recalled Adorna to the reason she had come. “Do you scholars know anything about Sereminian traditions? I wish to arrange some appropriate entertainment for them.”

Charlotte was patting Leila on the back, even though Charlotte looked as if she badly needed her own back patted. “Sereminian women are known for being adventurous. In her youth Queen Evangeline was quite a daring woman, given to rowing on rough rivers and climbing steep mountains.”

Adorna covered her cheeks. “That doesn’t help.”

“Queen Evangeline is also known throughout Europe as a gourmet,” Charlotte offered.

“What about King Danior? Hopefully he’s as dull as Prince Albert.”

Regretfully, Charlotte shook her head. “That is not his reputation. I’m sorry I can’t help you more, Mother.”

“Actually…” Adorna thought about what she’d learned and smiled. “You helped me quite a lot.”

CHAPTER 31

Wynter stood in his traveling garments and watched as an army of house servants placed chairs and tables in comfortable groupings on the wide portico. Workmen spread a golden awning over a wooden frame to provide shade and protect the royal parties from sun or rain. Inside, he knew, local help was cleaning and scrubbing until everything gleamed in sparkling perfection.

A wise man would stay far, far away. Barakah would have stayed far, far away.

Wynter wasn’t Barakah.

His mother stepped out the door, a sheaf of papers in hand, looking bright and summery in a grass-green dress few women could have worn. He told himself he should be grateful he had a youthful mother he could apply to in her wisdom. Yet he didn’t feel grateful. He just felt disoriented, like a man whose shelter was disappearing in a great, irrevocable sandstorm.

Adorna stopped, clearly startled to see him. “Wynter. Dear. I thought you’d gone to London for the day.”

“I did.”

She glanced toward the sun. “But it can’t be more than one o’clock. It’s a two-hour ride.”

“I can make it in an hour and a half.” Galloping and with a change of horses, but he didn’t have to tell her that.

“But an hour and a half there, an hour and a half back—you can’t have spent more than two hours there.” She brightened. “You didn’t go to the office, did you?”

“I did.”

Her face fell.

“I couldn’t concentrate.” He hated to do this. Hated it so much, he almost changed his mind. But he’d searched for other options, and he couldn’t come up with any. “Mother, I want to talk to you.”

Adorna’s hand went to her chest and clutched the stretch of smooth material in her fist. “Dear, what I did was necessary.”

“What you did?” Why was she talking about
her!
“What did you do?”

She stared at him, wide-eyed, then took great pains to smooth the wrinkles out of her gown. “I spent over four thousand pounds on this reception.”

Why was she babbling about the reception? “Fine. That’s fine.” He glanced around the portico, which was teaming with workers. “Could we go somewhere private?”

“Of course.” Adorna indicated he should walk into the house ahead of her. “I think my study is probably the only place where we can be alone today.”

As they passed a mirror, he glanced to one side and caught her dabbing her brow with her handkerchief. “Did you really think I would care?” he asked, trying to give heed to her concerns when he wanted only to talk about his own.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” Her voice quavered.

“The money from the business is your money.”

Taking her arm, he led her around the kneeling forms of two housemaids, both polishing the lowest step until it shone. “I am not your husband to check your accounts. I am your son. And not a good son, either. If I were, I would have been here for you after Father’s death. You would not have had to work so hard to run the business. We would not now be searching for the identity of an embezzler.”

She gripped his hand as they climbed the stairs. “Dear, you can’t be serious! You don’t really think that. Why, you’re the best son any woman could ask for! Interesting, exotic, masterful—a man in fulfillment of his destiny. I don’t want you to be anything but what you are. I might have wished for you to come home sooner, but… you don’t really think you have anything to make up to me, do you?”