by Nina Rowan
“I’m quite certain my father, the Earl of Rushton”—Talia paused to allow that illustrious title to sink into the officers’ minds—“will be dismayed to learn that his daughter has been accused of something so heinous.”
The officers glanced at each other and shifted with discomfort.
“I am equally certain,” Talia continued, “that my brother, Mr. Nicholas Hall, who is at St. Katharine’s Docks right now settling matters with the foreman, will be happy to compensate you both for treating me with such concern.”
“As will I,” James added.
“Er…just a bit of a mess, you know, milady,” one of the officers muttered.
“Yes, I know.” She blinked at them both. “I’m just so thankful no one was hurt.”
The officers exchanged another glance.
“Er…perhaps we’ll be off then,” the second one said. “You’re certain there’s nothing you…well, if you’ve got anything to convey, you know where to find us.”
“I most certainly do. Thank you so very much.”
She walked them to the door, then called Soames and asked him to ensure that both Peter and Martin had had enough to eat.
“Then please escort Peter back to his father’s house, and Martin to the Brick Street dormitory,” she said. “And tell Miss Colston I will call upon her tomorrow.”
“Yes, milady.”
Talia returned to the drawing room, where James was sitting by the fire. Amusement creased his eyes as he looked at her.
“Well done, my lady.”
Talia sank into the chair opposite him. She allowed her gaze to track over his hard-edged features, washed in firelight, the strands of sun-streaked blond still gleaming in his dark brown hair. An ache pooled in her chest.
“You came to find me,” she whispered.
“Of course.” He stared down at his clasped hands. “For the first time, I needed to run toward you. Not run away.” He lifted his head, his eyes shadowed. “Because I realized I can’t live without you. You’ve been…always, you’ve been a part of me, Talia, the good part. The reminder of family and dedication. Of courage. Everything I never had.”
Talia’s heart tightened. “You’ve always had those things, James. You just didn’t want to admit it.”
“I wanted to escape.” He shook his head, his mouth compressing with self-disgust. “Bloody fool, I’ve been.”
His words should have elicited some hope in Talia, but instead she just felt sad. As many times as she had thought about being with James, marrying him, she’d never been able to find a solution to the stark fact of their very different lives.
“Talia, dear, your bath is ready.” Aunt Sally hurried into the room. “And Nicholas is on his way back.”
Nicholas. Fear curled through her. She hadn’t seen her brother yet, as he’d gone directly to the docks after James informed him of all that had happened.
She lifted her head to look at James, startled to find his gaze on her, somber but without apprehension. With Aunt Sally in the room, she couldn’t bring up her embarrassment over bursting into his study and revealing the truth of their intimacy.
With a murmured excuse, Talia hauled herself upstairs to bathe. She let Lucy help her undress, then sank into the hot water with a sigh of relief. She soaped away all the grime and sweat, scrubbed her hair, and changed into a blue cotton morning dress.
Although she would have liked to sleep for a few hours, she knew she had to speak with her brother first. She returned downstairs, her nerves tensing when she heard Nicholas’s voice coming from the drawing room.
She paused in the doorway. James was standing by the hearth, his feet apart and his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze locked with hers. A tremble swept her from head to toe at the resolute, determined look in his eyes.
“James—”
“I would very much like to marry you, Talia.”
Although such a statement would have once sounded like magical bells to Talia, now they only filled her with dismay. She risked a glance at Nicholas, who was sitting on the sofa, staring down into a glass of brandy.
“Nicholas, I’m sorry. I…” Her voice faltered.
Nicholas set the glass down and rose to approach her. Gentleness softened the lines around his eyes as he settled a hand on her shoulder.
“Far be it from me ever to judge you, sister,” he said.
Talia shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “I’ve done just what she did.”
“And what is that?”
“Disgraced our family. If people begin talking about me, about our family again…it’s entirely my fault.”
“I hardly think either Lady Byron or Sir Henry is apt to run around gossiping about what you have or haven’t done with Lord Castleford,” Nicholas said. “You haven’t disgraced us, Talia, anything but. You’ve only ever been a blessing to this family. The only one, in fact.”
Talia swiped at a stray tear as guilt stabbed through her. “I told myself so many times that I’d never be like her.”
“And why do you think you are? Bastian seems to have concluded that she followed her heart, but at the expense of the rest of us. Have you done that?”
Had she? Talia stared at the knot of his cravat. She had followed her heart all those months ago at Floreston Manor, and she’d ended up hurting both herself and James. And as much as she’d tried to deny she still had strong feelings for him, her heart still pulled in his direction, as if it alone knew the core truth of James Forester.
She looked past her brother’s shoulder to where James stood. His expression was shuttered, but his eyes glittered as he watched her. Warmth spiraled through her.
“He’s got the approval of us all,” Nicholas murmured. “You know that.”
He squeezed her shoulder and moved toward the door. Talia drew in a breath, her heart hammering as James approached. He reached out to touch a lock of her hair that had escaped its pin and curled it around his finger. Even with space still between them, Talia felt the warmth of his body.
“I meant it,” he said. “I do love you, Talia. I’m only sorry it took me so long to understand that. To admit it.” His eyes darkened with self-directed irritation. “I would give anything to keep you from being hurt, yet I’m the one who did just that. I want to make amends, Talia. I want to prove myself to you.”
“You already have.”
Hope sparked like fireflies in his eyes. Talia’s heart ached. She reached up to put her hand on his cheek, rubbing her palm over the rough stubble coating his jaw. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind—all the dreams she’d once had about what their future together could be.
“I know who you are, James. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if I hadn’t. I’ve always trusted you, yes, but I’ve also always trusted myself.”
He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, sending a tingle across her skin. “Is that why you kept all the letters I wrote to you? The mementos? My coat.”
Talia’s throat tightened as she nodded. “I…I’ve thrown it all away, James. Once I realized there was no sense in clinging to the past. To what could never be.”
“It can be, Talia.” He lowered his head and pressed his warm mouth to hers.
“I want to marry you,” he whispered against her lips. “Allow me to do everything in my power to make you happy. I swear upon my soul I will prove myself worthy of you.”
“James, I will always count you as my dearest friend. But you were right when you told me you could never be married. I don’t want to be the reason you’re bound to London. And I don’t want to be left behind while you travel the world.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere without you, Talia. I can’t stand the thought of you in one place and me in another with only letters to bind us.”
“You mustn’t stop your work, James. Even if you said you would, I know you’d still have the urge in your blood. And I never want you to resent me for keeping you in London.”
“I’ve already resigned from the sout
hern Siberia expedition.”
Talia stepped back in shock. “You what?”
“Yesterday. I sent word to the RGS that I’m unable to carry out my duties and they need to find a new commander.”
“But…but that was the whole reason you made the agreement with Alexander. Because you wanted to carry it through.”
James cupped her cheek, his eyes both serious and tender. “Since then, I have come to realize there is something far more important to me than an expedition to Siberia. I don’t want to go any longer, Talia. I want to stay here with you.”
Talia’s heart gave a wild, joyful leap at his words, even as her mind warned caution.
“Are you certain of that?” she whispered.
“More than ever.” James broke away from her suddenly and paced to the middle of the room. “You were right when you said I’m a coward, Talia. I’ve been running away ever since my mother died, ever since I discovered no one would help her. But I don’t want to run anymore.”
“If…” Talia took a breath, not wanting to wish too hard, to hope for too much. “James, if you stay here, what will you do?”
“I’ll work with the RGS from the London offices. Perhaps finally straighten out my father’s estate. Heaven knows I would love to turn over the running of the household to you, both in London and Devon. I can’t remember the last time I visited the manor.”
“And when you get the urge to travel again?” Talia asked. “What then?”
“I’ll ask you what city you want to see, and we’ll go there together.” He turned to face her. “You used to love travel once, didn’t you? Will you come with me?”
Love coiled like an embrace around Talia’s heart at the expectation and hope in his expression. She could imagine without any effort at all a life like the one he described—the two of them spending the season in London and returning to Devon in autumn. She could see them traveling together, to the Continent, to Russia, even America. She could picture herself taking care of the household and perhaps, one day, their children…
She lifted her head to look at him. “And Brick Street, James? The ragged schools? What of them?”
A frown tipped his mouth. “I will not deny the importance of your work, Talia, nor will I prevent you from conducting it. I will, however, ask that you allow me to accompany you when you venture into districts such as Wapping.”
Talia wasn’t foolish enough to ask if he would actually help her, both practically and financially, but there would be time for that. There was still the possibility of Lady Byron’s patronage, and for now that would be more than enough to find a new location for Brick Street and to start furnishing the school properly.
Silence fell as she and James looked at each other. Talia became aware that her heart was beating swiftly, like a wind-whipped leaf.
“Tell me…” He paused, his throat working with a swallow. “Tell me I have not done irreparable damage. Tell me somewhere, somehow, you still have a shred of love for me. Is that true…or false?”
Tears pricked Talia’s eyes. “False.”
He froze, his eyes darkening with despair. Before he could speak, Talia stepped forward and put her hand against his chest. Beneath her palm, his heart thumped.
“I don’t have a shred of love for you, James,” Talia said. “I have a…an abundance of love for you. It’s never gone away, no matter how much I tried to tell myself otherwise. I love you, James Forester. I have always loved you.”
He exhaled hard, relief easing the creases on his face. His eyes softened with tenderness as he slid his hand to the back of Talia’s neck and drew her toward him. Their lips met with a soft, gentle touch brimming with the promise of the future. Talia closed her eyes and sank into the kiss, feeling as if a flower had bloomed open inside her. As if all the dreams she’d ever held for her and James had finally come true.
Lt. George Lawford, governor of Newhall prison, announced that his nephew, Mr. William Lawford, had taken a position with the prison hulks board and departed for New South Wales. The lieutenant further announced that, owing to a newfound “inheritance,” he himself would retire and live out the remainder of his days in the country.
James dictated a letter to the governor of New South Wales, with whom he’d become acquainted during his recent expedition, and requested that he employ Mr. Lawford, who was on board the Warrior. Mr. Lawford would be well suited to overseeing convict labor in the stone quarries, James suggested, as he was unable to return to London owing to the fact that the Home Office would deny any request to return.
Once that matter was dealt with, James and Talia turned their attention to their upcoming wedding. Neither of them wanted to wait. Talia initially thought they should plan the wedding for the end of summer when her father returned, but she felt as if she had waited a lifetime for James already.
And once James set his sights on marriage to her, he immediately began making arrangements for their wedding. Not a week after his proposal, Talia went downstairs one morning to find her brother Sebastian, his wife, and his stepson, Andrew, in the dining room, having breakfast with Nicholas and Aunt Sally.
Talia threw herself into Sebastian’s embrace with a happy laugh. She hugged Andrew and hurried Clara upstairs with her to discuss the wedding gown choices the modiste had sent the previous day.
A flurry of activity took place for the next few days, and then finally Talia woke to the morning she would marry James Forester. Clara and Lucy bustled around helping Talia dress before they went to the nearby church where James was waiting.
Her heart gave a happy leap at the sight of him—tall and handsome in a dark blue morning suit and silk cravat. His sun-streaked hair was brushed away from his forehead, his brown eyes filled with warmth as he watched her approach.
He bent to brush his lips across her cheek. “I love you,” he murmured in her ear as the priest called for everyone to take their places. “And never will I tire of telling you that.”
His hands closed around hers as the priest began the ceremony. She tightened her grip, their gazes locked together. He will not let go. He will never let go.
“I will,” she murmured, when the minister prompted her response to love and cherish James Forester. I always have.
He responded with his own vow, then lowered his head again to give her what was likely a somewhat indecent kiss in front of the spectators.
“He’s lucky another fellow didn’t get to you first.” Sebastian smiled as he enfolded Talia in his arms. “Pater will be delighted. Old bird deserves to be delighted for a change.”
“What do you think Alexander will say?” Talia asked.
“He’s already sent a telegraph.” Sebastian reached into his pocket for a piece of paper, which he gave to her.
Talia unfolded the paper with trembling hands. Most excellent. Agreement settled beyond expectations.
Pleased, Talia tucked the note away to put with her other keepsakes. They returned to King’s Street and went into the dining room for the wedding breakfast before Sebastian and Clara excused themselves to take Andrew to the park for an outing. James left a couple of hours later, telling Talia he wanted to ensure his house was prepared for her arrival, and she spent the rest of the afternoon determining what she wanted to bring with her.
As supper neared, Nicholas strode into the drawing room.
“All right, brat, I’m off then.” He gave her a big, warm embrace.
“You’re really leaving again so soon?” Talia asked.
“Heard tell there’s a ship heading off for a southern Siberia expedition,” Nicholas replied, scooping his hat up from the sofa. “In want of a commander. Thought I might apply.”
He clasped Talia’s hands and bent to kiss her cheek.
“Castle will take care of you,” he said. “We all know that.”
Bittersweet love curled through Talia as she watched him stride toward the door. “Nicholas.”
He turned.
“Visit Darius en route, would you? Tell him I mis
s him.”
A shadow passed across Nicholas’s face, but he gave a swift nod. “Take care, brat. Couldn’t be more pleased about Castle, honestly.”
Then he was gone. Talia stood in the empty room for a moment, remembering when her father’s house had once been filled with her brothers’ raucous shouts and laughter. She pressed a hand to her chest. This was the only house she’d ever known, and now for the first time ever, she was embarking on an entirely new life. With the man she loved.
With a smile, she started upstairs. She’d told James she would be home before supper, as soon as she finished organizing more of her belongings. She went to her bedchamber, where trunks and suitcases lay open and overflowing with dresses, petticoats, and shifts. Talia started toward the wardrobe, then stopped.
An old wooden crate sat on the floor beside her bed. Her heart thumped. She went to pry off the lid, then stared at the contents—James’s letters and mementos. She picked up a seashell, running her thumb over the spiral grooves.
“Talia, did you want me to ask Madame Gaston to send your latest order to James’s house?” Aunt Sally sailed into the room, her blue gown swirling like a whirlpool around her.
Talia straightened. “Aunt Sally, do you know how this came to be here?”
“What is it, dear?” Sally peered into the crate.
“Just some things I’d asked Soames to dispose of. You don’t know why he brought them back here?”
“Why, no. Why should I?” Sally reached into the crate and removed a letter. “Why on earth would you want to throw away letters from James?”
“I was…er, well, I wasn’t very happy with him at the time.”
“Hmm.” Sally dropped the letter back into the crate. “Considering he’s now your husband, I imagine you’re quite relieved to have such treasures back in your possession.”
Talia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her aunt. Seeming oblivious, Sally spun and headed to the door.
“Best get to James soon, dear. I’ll have the rest of your things sent this week.”