“I can save you.”He sounded savage to his own ears.
“Go and see the king, Temple.Tell him about us.”
“I’ll explain it must be a secret.”
“You can try, but… I cannot live my entire life in Bloomsbury Square.”
“You have Nickleby House.And Lady Guinevere’s.And once we are sure his maid and cook are to be trusted, I can take you to visit Nico and his wife.When in London, they live nearby.Or we can visit their home in Bristol.There are fewer to recognize you there.And?—”
“No.”She broke the distance between them, unwinding her arms then winding them again.Around him.“You have no use for a secret wife.Your family has no use for one.Your allies have become your tormenters.You have allied yourself with those your former friends consider only with acrimony.The king wanted you to take a wife from the ton to give you entrance there, and you marriedme.”
“A woman from the transcendent class.”
“A woman in hiding.”She took a breath so big it seemed to rustle the tree leaves.“But I do not have to be in hiding.I can confront my fears.I can confront Apollo.”
“You do not have to.”
Was she nodding?Or lifting her face oh so gently to the sky on a lavender-scented breeze.But her smile was soft.Sure.“Go and tell him about us.”
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and the stone burned a hole in his pocket.At the beginning of the Season, he would have given his life to ease his family’s troubles.But Diana was his family now, too.Protecting her hurt them.
“Fuck.”
She laughed and pushed away enough to kiss his lips.“Go now.Your father or brother will escort me home.And I’ll be waiting for you when you return.In our bed.”Her moon eyes made promises that pulled strings around his heart, pooled molten need lower in his belly.
“Rest,” he said, voice rough and raw.“After I return home, I plan to keep you awake for the rest of the night.”
“I can sleep when the sun rises.”
He groaned, taking another kiss before sitting her back in the parlor with his family.He’d barely left her side since their wedding, and now he was rumbling off into the dark London night to shatter their peace.By the time he arrived at St.James Palace, he’d still not convinced himself this was the right thing to do.
The red brick of the old Tudor building cloaked itself in darkness.Ominous.More ominous still, a guard waited for him, led him silently to the State Apartments.
The king waited as he usually did by a window, arms crossed behind his back.His glamour seemed threadbare.Was it the late hour or something else that made it tremble?Strong and stout on the outside—the Sailor King.Worn and pale beneath, a figure curved and crumbling.God, how much time did the man have?Who was the heir?He should probably know that.Diana had said a princess was, hadn’t she?He’d ask Diana when he returned home.In the morning, after he’d spent the rest of the night with her little sounds of pleasure in his ears.
“Finally, you come,” the king said.More quickly than usual, he abandoned the window for his usual chair.
Temple sat across from him.“My apologies.As I told you, I was out of reach.”
The king opened his hand.The stone rested there, warm and glowing.“What good is this if I cannot bring you to me when I’d like?”His voice was so low, so weak.Somehow Temple knew the king did not speak to him.But then he did, his gaze sharp even if the rest of him was not.“How are you faring on your little projects.”
A stone to speak with the dead, a charlatan’s trick.And a wife.
“Well on the one, Your Majesty, and hopeless on the other.”
“Do I dare guess which is which?”he grumbled.
Temple inhaled, deeply, steadied his heartbeat.God, I am so sorry, Diana.She’d told him to do this, but it still felt like ripping out a vital organ with his bare hands.
“No, Your Majesty,” he managed to say.“I will speak for my victories and my shortcomings.I have not been available for the last fortnight because I’ve been… on my honeymoon.”
The king snorted.Or did he choke?It was kind of a chortling sound.He wouldn’t appreciate Temple asking about it, so Temple folded his hands in his lap and waited for the man to catch his breath and his wits.
“Honeymoon?”the king bellowed once he had.
“Yes.”
“You cannot have a honeymoon if you are not married, and you are not married because I have not given my permission.At least say your bride possesses the correct lineage.”
