It’s done—after three years of fighting with him and myself. With ink and calmness, Jahleel ends us. But this time no one walks away.
“Mr. Thom and his sons have signed your offer. I’ll give Lord Ashbrook all the pages tonight.”
From his jacket, he pulls out a piece of parchment. “Just awaits your signature.”
“Efficient.” I take up the quill and sign where he points. “Thank you for handling this.”
“Monies have also been transferred. You can legitimately say that Wilcox Coal is no more.”
Those words make my head hurt, but it’s for the best. “Thom-Wilcox Coal has a great lineage.”
“Your money is in my study, in the top drawer on my desk. Where will a free woman of means go?”
Waggling a finger at him, I summon him. “That’s my new deal. I want you to think of having a permanent mistress.”
“Katherine. We don’t—”
“Me. I’m applying. I want you, Jahleel. Titles, court writs, and paper should never come between us. Mr. Steele should remove the locks, maybe the whole door, that separate our chambers.”
I kiss him, and he kisses me back, whispering his love in Russian.
But I tell him with my whole heart, “I love you. I was wrong to leave you, to think of leaving again. Let’s go into the garden and marry like true Cossacks. Let’s be English tomorrow and marry in Anya House.”
“Oh, what a time to realize that we should be together forever, no matter what that means.” His hold fades. “I like the terms of this new offer. I want you with me, but let’s get through the ball. Then we’ll formalize our new deal, giving ourselves a moment to move without haste.”
About to agree, I shiver when I coil my arm about his. “What’s going to happen at the ball? You think something new will make me run?”
He glares at me, the emotions of a moment ago drained away. Then I know that this ball will again change everything between us. “Katia, are we in this together? No matter what?”
I’m scared, but more so of showing doubts. “As you wish. I’m at your side.”
“Then let’s go.” He leads me forward. We move in the same direction, leaving behind our private affairs for a very public ball.
Princess Elizaveta and Lady Lydia lead the way, and we begin our descent of the grand stairs. The tiara the princess wears bears rubies similar in size and facets to my necklace. My notion that this gift is a generous trinket disappears. Jahleel has given me a legacy.
I want to touch the jewels that rest on my throat, make theones on my shoes jiggle; instead, I make a pledge to be worthy of their weight. I focus on the seed pearls woven into Lydia’s braids and how she walks like both her grandmothers with her head lifted high. The muslin gown has smocking on the bodice and sleeves, but her hem is made very much like mine but with pink satin.
Like this, we could be painted and hung next to the other Charles family portrait. Excitement stirs. The crowd swells out of the ballroom into our grand hall. Some clap as they see us.
At the bottom, the princess stops. “Jasha, you have given me the Winter Palace.”
“This is our home, Mamen’ka. Anya would want a house named after her to be the best of St. Petersburg and London.”
“Our home. The Charles home.” Lydia bubbles. “I love it.”
When Jahleel takes the final tread, he looks at his mother. “I hope this convinces you to stay. Your being here has meant everything.”
“You’re persuasive like Andrew. He could always get me with a grand gesture. Hang the demons he couldn’t slay, Jasha. Then you may have a deal.”
Wait. There are more demons? And Jahleel bargains with everyone. He beams as if he’s assured of victory. I take his hand as we’re announced. “Jahleel Andrewovich Charles, the Duke of Torrance.
“Princess Elizaveta Abramovna Gannibal Charles.
“Lady Lydia Jahleelovna Charles.
“Katherine Wilcox Palmers, Lady Hampton.”
As Lydia and the princess enter, I stay at the door.
