I brace for the worst, knowing we’ve already survived it. “Tell me, Your Grace.”
“Since coming to London, I’ve loved you, hated you, and again fallen unbelievably in love with you.”
“But if Tavis hadn’t died—”
“Shhh.” Jahleel kisses my lips. “Couples have difficulties. May he finally have rest knowing the full truth is exposed.”
Like the night I bathed him, Jasha and I roll up in sheets, except I’m the one without clothes. He nibbles down my neck. “Thank you for summoning me.”
Actually, Tavis asked me to write to Jahleel. Maybe it was his way of making things right. No need to quibble on this point. “Well, I’m summoning you now, Jasha.”
I work his shirt buttons and undo the pin in his cravat. We take kissing breaks every time an article of his clothing disappears.
Yet I hold onto the pin, his father’s pin. I remember what we’ve lost, the son who’d have inherited this. “We should talk about more children. I’d like to try.”
“Finish your work. Unclothe me, Tigress.”
With a nod, I slip my fingers across the smooth fabric of his shirt. The lawn is soft, good English linen. He helps rip it away. Once it’s freed, who knows where it lands.
The falls flap of his pantaloons tumbles. He stops disrobing, pops his head from the sheets and looks toward the bed table. “Katia …”
“What’s wrong? After bathing you, Jasha, you have no reason to be shy.”
“This is true. No maid has done a better job at restoring me.”
He teases but does nothing more than lie beside me with our hands entwined. He smells of sweet starch and something else. “What is that rich scent?”
“Myrrh. Good for inflammation.”
“And to bury kings.” I start blinking. Tears flow. “The confrontations were too much, too dangerous. Tell me you’re not pretending to be well. Or tell me you aren’t, and we’ll face everything together.”
My brave words drown in sobs.
Jahleel holds me, and I bawl like a babe. “It’s all over, Katia. All done. I did what I had to do. No matter the cost, everyone needed to see that I chose you and we are free.”
I swipe at my eyes. “If Prahmn or Palmers had tried to resist … if they tried …”
His hands find my hips; they fasten to me like I’m the door pull and he tows me atop him. “I’m no weakling. I knew exactly what could occur. I planned this. Fate gave me the order of villains and even absurd moments to rest. But neither man would beat me tonight, not when I fight with you, for you. My love and pride are you. And Lord Ashcroft had the magistrate’s runners everywhere. Things wouldn’t have gotten too out of hand.”
His face lies below me, like the night we fell onto the bed after I bathed him. “I was a mistress to my husband. And you’ve just been my husband this whole time.”
“The idea of this keeps you weeping?”
“No. Maybe.” My hands are wet as I swipe my tears from his chin. “I wanted to be your mistress because part of me didn’t think I deserve to be your wife. You’re a better person than me. I have a bit of a jealous streak.”
“Couples have difficulties.” He chuckles, but his eyes speak to deeper sorrows. There are years we will never get back.
“Katia, it’s been tough being without you. You saw how the ton came after me. I didn’t want this fight to be yours or your father’s, not until I had the power and means to win. I deluded myself into thinking you’d still be waiting for me.”
He kisses my cheek, then my mouth, then that spot along my throat that makes me purr. “You’ll just have to wake me up with love at dawn. Remind me at sunset. And then love me anew at midnight. That’ll make up for lost time.”
He savagely kisses me and loops his fingers into my curls, keeping me close as he ravishes my bosom. It’s topsy-turvy, upside down, spinning. He’s on top. The sheets shift around. Then his arms surround me again, holding me. I’m not concerned with his strength, not anymore. These arms with bloodletting scars keep me close to his heart. The scent of myrrh covers everything. The spice is a blessing, another way to celebrate our love.
He takes a pin from my braids, and curls fall. “I’m grateful for a second or third chance.”
Our hands link, fingers weave together. I prepare to be his and only his, but he rolls to my side.
His passion ceases again.
