Page 26 of Triumph at Pemberley

She lifted her shoulders. “It does not matter, truly. I am alive and my children are with me, and that is all I can ask. You - you hold the King's Bond and could marry any heiress in the land. And so you should, but only from your own free will.”

“Why did you tell me your cousin was from a tiny principality?”

She looked away. “It was easier if no one knew the truth.” But there was a hesitation in her voice. Then she shook her head. “It was to avoid explaining why I did not go to Russia instead of coming here.” She sounded defeated.

“You need not tell me anything you do not wish,” he said instantly. “You must have had your reasons, and I respect that.” Though they must have been very strong motives for her to spend her last pennies coming to a foreign land rather than going to the Russian court.

She ran her fingertip along the back of a chair, gazing down. “They call Talent the Royal Gift there. And I carry it, though not strongly.” Her voice was low. “There are many men in Russia eager to breed the Royal Gift into their families. The czar would have made me marry one of them. I did not want that.”

No wonder she had reacted so strongly when she saw him being pressed into a similar situation, being bred for his King's Bond! “No one wishes to be forced into a marriage.”

Now she raised haunted eyes to him. “It was not just that. I would have lost my children. The kaiser was already preparing to send them back to Napoleon as hostages. Since he was their guardian, through my late husband, he had that right. The French court is not a kind place, and they would have no one to protect them there. I would never have seen them again, living many hundreds of miles away.” Tears shone in her eyes.

He covered her hand with his own. “Of course you could not permit that,” he said warmly. “You did the right thing.”

Chapter 11

The next morning Jack waved away the servants once Mrs. Hartung had filled her plate and sat across from him at the breakfast table. He had been up half the night coming to a decision, but he did not want any witnesses to this discussion.

Especially as he did not know what Mrs. Hartung would say.

He managed to wait until she had a few sips of coffee, but then his impatience broke through. “I had some thoughts about what happened yesterday. You were very brave.”

She did not seem to react, apart from her hand stilling in the process of scooping up some butter for her toast. “I hope I did not make matters worse. Pray tell them it was all a mistake if you like.”

“No, not at all. I appreciated what you said, perhaps more than you can know. In fact…” For a moment, his courage deserted him, and then he ploughed forward. “In fact, I wonder if we should make it the truth. The marriage, that is.”

Now she did go pale. “I hope you know I had no intention of entrapping you, nor would I agree to do so. I just wished to give you a little time.”

He was doing this all wrong. “Not because of that. I am selfishly thinking of the benefits to me, though it could help you, too. You and the children would always have a home here. The protection of my name and a small income should I be killed in battle.”

She seemed to concentrate on buttering her toast. “Forgive me, but how would it benefit you?”

“It would protect me from being forced to marry to serve the crown, to breed children to suffer under this yoke.”

“You would still be marrying because of the King, though,” she said gently. “How is that any different?”

“I…it would be my choice, at least, and I like you. I enjoy your company, and you are not afraid of me. That is rarer than you think.” He did not want to lose her. Even his own family – he had seen the awe on Richard Fitzwilliam’s face when he heard about the rampart he had raised, as if Jack had somehow become a different person. “You would not be trying to use me as a tool.”

“I would be the best of a bad lot, then,” she said lightly.

“No, not that. I have always assumed I would marry someday and make a quiet life at Pemberley with my family.” He had dreamed of it, all those long months when he had been a prisoner in the French Nest. “I feel like that is slipping through my fingers. But I could see you there with me.”

Something shimmered in her eyes. “Mr. Darcy…Jack. I am honored by your suggestion, but I cannot think it fair to you. You have been through so much of late, first as a prisoner, then returning home only to be sent off on a mission, where you discovered the truth of your parentage and the power of the King’s Bond. Your life has changed completely. It is enough to throw the strongest man off balance. This idea of marriage may seem comforting now, but once your normal life returns, you may regret having tied yourself to the first woman who came along. You deserve the chance to meet a woman and fall in love.”

The wave of disappointment shocked him. Somehow he managed to say, “I will honor your wishes, of course. I hope you will remain here at Darcy House in any case.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “You are a good man. We can continue the fiction of our marriage for your protection, naturally. And this is not a refusal. Should you find, some months from now, that your wishes are unchanged, I would happily hear your proposal then.”

Should he believe her, or was she only trying to be kind? “Truly?”

She reached across the table and placed her hand on his. “I entered into an arranged marriage that turned into a love match. I know it can bring joy. From what I have seen of you these past weeks, I think we would have as good a chance of happiness as many. But first you must have time to adjust to all that has happened to you.”

It was something, and at least she was not leaving. How could he face an empty Darcy House without her smiles and the children’s laughter?

When had he gone from thinking this would be the best solution to longing for it?

A tap on the door preceded the appearance of a nervous-looking footman with a salver. “Forgive me, sir, but there is a messenger who requires an immediate response.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “From Carlton House, sir.”