Chapter 14
Elise woke the morning following the ball with a pain somewhere deep in her chest. But that ache was lessened a little by something warm and hard pressed against her body. A heavy weight was settled over her waist, and when she explored it, she realized it was Prospero’s arm draped over her body as he lay in bed beside her. All the pain buried deep in her chest from last night made it hard to breathe.
Her father was dying, and his last wish was to see her married to Prospero. It was hard to fully comprehend. She had never allowed herself to picture life without her father. He had been such a solid presence, like an old fortress bowing to neither invading armies nor the elements of nature. He was supposed to be here for a thousand years. She was not supposed to live one day without him. Thick tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, and her body trembled.
Prospero’s arm tightened around her, and his head moved closer until he was pressing his lips into her hair. Overcome with the need to be held, to be comforted, she rolled over and burrowed against his chest, seeking the warmth and shelter that he offered without words. She lay in his arms like this a long while before she spoke.
“Can we do this? Can we marry and survive whatever that means for us?”
Prospero stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Honestly, I had no idea what I would do once I returned to England. But from the moment I met you at your society, I felt as if I’d found a star to follow in the night sky.” His words lifted the heaviness in her soul so much that she felt she could breathe again. “I would marry you, Elise. And I would do my damnedest to make you happy, just as your father hopes. I believe that we can weather this storm, so long as you believe in us as well.”
The piercing blue of his eyes pinned her in place and held her steady. Prospero’s words offered her the one thing she needed most: hope. As a woman who’d rebelled her entire life against a world that sought to drown her, hope was everything.
“Married...” She sighed the word, unable to hide her dread. “I don’t even know what being married means... except that I would be your property.” She couldn’t hide the loathing in the last word.
“To many, marriage is simply a piece of paper,” Prospero said. “What our union will mean is whatever you wish it to mean. I will not suddenly become a tyrannical lord over you. You will do as you please every day. Nothing has to change.”
“And would we be... ?” She wasn’t quite sure how to ask him what was on her mind. Her usual blunt honesty didn’t make much sense in this delicate conversation.
“We would be intimate, if you wish. I would make no demands of you to satisfy my needs, but for the sake of honesty, I would like for us to be lovers, and to be loyal to each other, and maybe someday, if you desire, to have children.”
Children. She’d never imagined she would be discussing future children, let alone with the Earl of March.
“I never thought I would have children. I don’t want to be treated like a...” She swallowed the words that would’ve sounded course upon her tongue.
“A broodmare?” He quirked a brow, but his lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “I would never treat you as such, nor would I wish to be treated like a stud stallion. If we choose to have children, we can make that decision together.”
She nodded. A dull throb began in her temples. She closed her eyes.
“You should have something to eat,” he said. “I’ll leave you to Mary’s tender care, and I will see to myself, and I’ll meet you in the dining room for breakfast. Then I suggest, if you are amenable to it, that we should discuss wedding plans later today. I believe it would be better to face the issue head-on rather than delay things.”
“Oh, all right, damn you,” she muttered, but she wasn’t angry with him. She was glad one of them still had the good sense to think rationally.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and after a long searching look, he kissed her lips and she shifted closer, kissing him back. His mouth was warm and his lips soft and entreating. His kiss made something warm blossom in her chest and spread out until the coldness of her pain had completely faded away.
One of the things Prospero had taught her was that kisses could arouse and excite, but they could also heal. As hard as it was to imagine, she felt that if she trusted herself with this man, the pain of losing her father would heal in time. What was it her father had said about scars? No matter how hard or soft, old or new, a scar meant a wound was healing. Wounds of the heart, like the body, weren’t meant to bleed forever. Blood clotted, skin knit itself back together stronger than before with the presence of the scar. Scars personified strength and were nothing to be ashamed of. They meant you had survived.
“Will you be all right?” Prospero asked, his voice low and husky as he continued to gaze at her. She still lay in his arms, lost in the swirl of her own melancholic thoughts. He hadn’t abandoned her.
“I will be someday.” She burrowed closer, taking in the heat of his body once again. Was this what it would be like as his wife? Would she always have the right to curl into his arms and warm herself at the fires of this man’s heart?
Prospero rubbed his cheek on the top of her head, pulling her even closer as if he sensed she needed to feel his desire to keep her close too. Then after a long moment, he spoke.
“We should go riding in Hyde Park today.”
Her heart leapt with a fleeting joy, but just as quickly her hopes of an enjoyable day were blown away like clouds during a westerly storm swept out to sea.
“Do you suppose we shall have to spend the entire day planning our wedding?”
“I had a thought...,” Prospero began. “Perhaps someone like Edwina could plan it for you. She seems like she might be up to the task. Unless, of course, you wish to be more involved in the decisions.”
Elise wrinkled her nose. “I don’t particularly wish to be involved. I really don’t find weddings that interesting.”
“I can’t say I’m all that surprised,” said Prospero.
“I suppose you wanted me to say something more feminine and romantic, but I’d rather look at species of beetles all day than plan a wedding. But Edwina does enjoy such things.”
Prospero stroked a fingertip down her nose, and that feeling of wonderful warmth inside her grew. “Well, I’d rather look at beetles as well, fascinating little fellows. So many shapes and sizes and colors. Those iridescent-shelled ones you showed me at the museum were simply wonderful.” He spoke about beetles for a time, and she felt herself drowning in his beautiful blue eyes. “But yes, back to Edwina. We ought to send her and Cinna a message to request their help. They are your dearest friends, and it would hurt them if you did not tell them.”
“Why am I beginning to suspect that you will be the voice of reason in our marriage?” Oddly, when she thought of him as her husband now, the idea was a little less frightening than before.
“Because I’m the boring one. You will have to be our dreamer, our visionary in this marriage.”
“Visionary. I like that.”
“Good.” He gave her one more soft, lingering kiss before he left the bed, his suit from last night rumpled and his hair mussed. He paused in the doorway and looked back at her.
“Everything will be all right,” he said. “We must give it time.”
She sighed and lay on her back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Time...”
Her entire life had changed in a matter of days. She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she had never tried to stop Mr. Holmes from playing his damned violin. She never would have met Prospero. She might never have learned of her father’s illness until it was too late. Strange how one poorly played violin could have made such a difference.
* * *
“How is she?” John asked as Prospero joined him in the dining room for breakfast.
Prospero examined Elise’s father with concern. It was as though by sharing the news with his daughter last night, a great bit of John’s life and vigor had deserted him. He looked drained, pale... older.
“She’s hurting,” Prospero said after a moment. “I suggested she let Cinna and Edwina assist in planning the wedding. I will take her riding today. I believe she needs a distraction after everything that happened last evening.”
“That is very wise of you. I was also thinking that after you wed, you should take her on a honeymoon. She needs something not too far away but with plenty of diversions. Brighton or the Isle of Wight, perhaps? She’s always wanted to dig for fossils on the beaches there. And another thing.” He paused a moment, reflecting. “I’ve always detested those blasted rituals of mourning. I don’t care what society expects—do not let her wear black for too long. Burn her black gowns in the fireplace if you must, but keep her in colors. I want my child to remember me by living in a world of light, not shadows.”
Prospero nodded, feeling his throat tighten. “I will do as you wish, John.” He turned away to prepare breakfast plates for himself and Elise.
“If I don’t have a chance to thank you, you have my thanks now, March,” John said.
Prospero faced John as he set the two plates down. “I’ve only done what any man would do.”
“What any good man would do,” John corrected. “You really are the only one I would trust with her.” He left his chair and came around the dining table to place a hand on Prospero’s shoulder. “Someday, when you have a daughter of your own, you’ll know what this means to me.” He squeezed Prospero’s shoulder and then left the room.
Prospero sat down, staring at the food in front of him. His appetite, what little there had been, was gone. Knowing he had to take his own advice, he forced his breakfast down and was halfway done when Elise came into the room, wearing her wig and trousers, as well as her slender mustache. She looked every bit the handsome dandy she was pretending to be rather than a fine lady. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Nothing would ever be dull with her, and he delighted in knowing that.
“Today we’ll see how well my Gypsy pony performs,” he said with a smirk.
She shot him a challenging look. “You mean your Romani horse,” she corrected.
“Yes, of course,” he chuckled. “But Gypsy has a rather romantic sound to it, don’t you think?” He winked at her. “Supposedly, I have Gypsy heritage in my blood, many ancestors back, of course, but I suppose that does make me part Gypsy... er, Romani.”
“Really? I wonder if that explains the dark gleam of your hair. It’s so...” Elise swallowed a bit of food, her face reddening. “You and Anthony could be cousins.”
Pleased that his method of distraction was working, he pushed on. “So, how did you and Anthony meet?”
“I met him a year ago when I started looking into racing fillies. He taught me so much about horses that I never would have learned on my own. I just recently bought a new racehorse from him,” Elise said. “It was only a few days before I met you, actually.”
“Oh?”
“She’s young, but she should be excellent in some of the filly races. She is splendidly fast and utterly determined to win, no matter how fast her opponent is. I want to take her riding in the park today.”
“You ride your racehorse in the park?” Most men who owned racehorses treated them better than their own wives and children. To ride a racer in the parks for simple recreation was unheard of.
Elise shot him a smug look. “And that is why she races so well. I’ve tested my theory on my previous horses over the last two years. When they get out in the various paths, they see all sorts of distractions and experience different terrains. It’s good practice. And when you add in their need to be unbeaten, you can have a winning horse.”
Prospero watched Elise eat as they talked, wanting to make sure she ate enough before they left. “I would’ve imagined you would be invested in bloodlines, such as the strongest Thoroughbreds, the horses that have history of winning in their blood. Wouldn’t that be of more interest to you?”
“That is an easy thing to assume, but a horse’s heart is always more telling than its breeding. I believe men and women are the same. I’m sure you’ve heard stories from wars where men encountered unthinkable odds and yet managed to survive.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that is true.” He liked that he couldn’t always predict what Elise would say or do next. She was incredibly original in her thoughts and observations, and it was endlessly fascinating to be around her.
“So, tell me about your new filly,” he encouraged.
“Oh, she’s positively beautiful. The color of champagne. I’ve named her Honey, and she’s smart as a whip. She has a sweet temperament unless she senses an unfit rider sitting on top of her. Anthony told me that she watches the way a man wields his crop. If he acts impatient or temperamental, he doesn’t stand a chance on her. But she’s wonderful with women and children. When she hits an open path, she’ll outrun lightning itself.”
There was such love and adoration in her voice for Honey that Prospero was amused at the fact that he was jealous of a horse. He supposed some people might find it unusual for someone with an analytical and scientific mind to feel so deeply emotional for a creature, but to him it was logical. Elise loved everything about the natural world, and it only made sense for her to love the creatures in it.
By the time Prospero was satisfied she’d eaten enough, the grooms had prepared their horses and were waiting outside for them.
As Prospero studied his new horse, he realized he was excited to be back in the saddle. In Paris he’d had horses, but they’d always belonged to his paramours, and once he moved on the horses were always returned. Now he was to have his own horse again. Yes, it was a horse Elise’s money had bought, but it was money he had earned from her. That was the only way he could accept it. To remind himself that he was showing her a part of life she wanted to study. He was stoutly refusing to think about what her father had offered him as part of the marriage contract, and how he hated feeling like he’d just been given money without having earned it honestly. He’d face that later, when he was ready to ruin his good mood.
He followed Elise to her lovely horse. “Do you need assistance?” The filly danced in excitement at Elise’s approach, clearly recognizing her despite her masculine disguise.
“No, I’m quite capable.” She pulled herself up in the saddle with an adorable, cocky grin. Lord, he loved seeing her beam with confidence. She rode astride like a man and seemed completely comfortable with it. He imagined that her trousers helped quite a bit in that regard.
“Excellent.” He nodded to the groom who held Raider’s reins and then mounted up.
They set off toward the park. Elise watched him closely as he nodded to the gentlemen as they passed, and she did the same in imitation. For having little practice pretending to be a gentleman, she was surprisingly good at it.
“Have you ever played this role before?” She seemed so at ease in her costume that it did make him wonder.
“I have. To attend meetings where ladies are not permitted. I presented a paper at an ornithological society about patterns of bird migration, but I was so nervous my mustache fell off. I later discovered that the adhesive I used was not resistant to perspiration.” She casually reached up and touched her mustache, as though checking to make sure it was firmly affixed to her upper lip.
“I imagine the men were not amused.”
“They certainly weren’t. Thankfully, Lord Rochester was in attendance at the meeting. He applauded me, even after my mustache fell off, and not in a mocking way. He chided those around him who were crying for me to be pulled off the stage and thrown outside after my ruse was discovered.”
“Ah, that explains his words last night. I believe he called you a brilliant mind. I quite agree with the statement. I would have done the same had I been there.”
“You won’t mind if I continue my pursuits once we’re married? I know my father said you wouldn’t, but...” She adjusted her hands on her reins as they entered Hyde Park.
“You need to hear it from me,” he confirmed in understanding. “Yes, I want nothing of your life to change, except that I am to be a part of it. What about you? What do you wish for me to do once we are married?”
Prospero was getting accustomed to the idea that soon he and Elise would be wed. Elise’s father could not force him to accept the situation, of course, but he wanted to. Yes, he’d only known her for a handful of days, but his instincts had never been wrong before. After more than a decade of feeling like he had no future, he saw quite clearly what this new path meant for him.
“What do I wish for you to do?” Elise asked, as if unsure of his question.
“What I mean is... Do you want me in all ways? As a husband? A man? A lover?” He kept his tone quiet. They were too far away from anyone to be overheard, but one couldn’t be too careful, and this was a much-needed discussion.
“You meant what you said about giving me a choice?” Her surprise was so clear, but it wounded him. She honestly thought he wouldn’t?
“Of course. I like you, Elise. I admire you. I daresay I will fall in love with you. But I respect you, and that respect has given me a clarity of thought that other men might not have. I don’t want to force you to do anything. We can be married on paper only, or we can be married in truth.”
She seemed to consider the matter for a long moment as they rode along the park’s dirt paths, avoiding the more well-traveled routes.
“What do you want, Prospero? Forget for the moment any decision I might make. What is it you truly wish for?”
He stroked Raider’s neck, and they slowed their horses to a stop on a grassy path that led to an open field. He’d mentioned before what he wished, but he could understand her need to hear it again, to reconfirm what he desired so that they were certain they understood each other.
“I would want everything with you. The passion, the contentment, the adventure. Children, if we are blessed with any. I would want it all with you.”
“You wouldn’t expect to have mistresses? Most men seem to think it a God-given right that they do as they please.” The thought seemed to truly upset her.
“Even when I lived in Paris as a... companion, I never once strayed from the woman I was currently acting as a companion to. I am a loyal man. And I would be loyal to you.” He didn’t ask her to promise her loyalty in return. He didn’t need to. Elise was the type of woman who was loyal by nature.
Her eyes suddenly brightened with tears. “Why?” she snapped, trying to ignore them. “Why are you content to marry me? Despite the scandal of your past, you could still have your choice of the finest ladies in England.”
“Why?” Prospero’s brows rose. “Do you truly not see yourself?” he asked, guiding his horse closer. Her filly playfully nudged the larger horse, and Raider accepted the filly’s affections.
Her brows knitted together in confusion. “See myself?”
She truly had no idea? Lord, this woman had so much confidence, save in this. How could she not see why any decent man could fall madly in love with her? It was a damned travesty to witness, and he wouldn’t let her suffer with such doubts a moment longer. She deserved to hear the truth.
“Oh, my little naturalist.” He sighed and smiled. “You are fierce: fiercely beautiful, fiercely intelligent, fiercely passionate, fiercely amusing, and real. You are genuine in a way so many others are afraid to be. You make me feel the way I used to feel before Jackson’s death.”
They slowed their horses once more, this time leaving the path. She met his eyes again.
“Very well, we shall be in this mess together, and always.” Then, with a sly look as his only warning, she added, “Now, shall we see what your new horse is capable of?”
Before he could fully process that she had just agreed to be his wife, she spurred her filly and took off at a mad gallop across the open field of the park.
“Yah!” he cried out and kicked his heels into Raider’s sides.
The Romani stallion took off. Raider’s head bobbed as he made up for lost ground behind the champagne-colored filly. Prospero laughed as they gave chase to their wild females. Honey truly could fly. Her hooves barely touched the ground. Elise kept her head bent low so she would not lose her hat.
The filly shot across paths and leapt over hedges. It was as though the horse had learned the falcon’s secret to flight, and it was one of the most beautiful sights Prospero had ever seen—woman and horse so completely in tune with each other that they rode as one.
Raider took each leap in their wake and sprinted with ease after the filly. Elise was right—her filly was fast, too fast. Even Raider couldn’t quite catch up. After a short while, Elise slowed Honey and with a lazy smile ran the horse in a small circle before slowing her down to an easy walk, coming toward them.
“Honey is like lightning,” he told Elise. “I believe Raider enjoyed the challenge, even if he did lose.” Prospero smacked the horse’s neck lightly. “Didn’t you, old boy?”
“I told you Anthony knows his horses.” Elise chuckled.
“He does indeed. I bow before him, and you, in all future equine decisions.” He removed his hat and gave a half bow from his saddle.
Elise nodded imperiously, as though she were Queen Victoria. “As you should.”
“Shall we take a tour of the more well-traveled paths in order for you to observe gentlemen on horseback?” He gestured with his crop to a path up ahead where people were promenading on foot and horseback.
They had been on the path for only a few minutes when Lady Cinna and Miss Tewksbury appeared, riding ahead of them. Prospero glanced around and saw two familiar gentlemen farther back on the path, also riding.
“Go on. I’ve spotted Nicholas and Guy just behind us.”
Elise nodded her agreement and urged her filly into a trot to catch up to her two companions. Prospero steered Raider around to return to his old friends.
“Ah, Pross, what are you up to?” Guy asked as Prospero turned Raider to walk alongside his horse.
“Just putting my new horse through his paces,” he replied. “You aren’t stalking those two young ladies, are you?” He nodded toward Cinna and Edwina.
Guy grinned. “Nick is. I am simply here to tease him.” He pointed his crop toward Raider. “Beautiful beast, by the way. Where did you find him?”
“The Barnet Fair, if you can believe it,” Prospero said.
Guy’s brows rose. “You don’t say. Gypsy horses, eh?”
“I am told they prefer to be called Romani,” Prospero said without thinking.
His friend chuckled. “Really? That?—”
“Hold on,” Nicholas said, interrupting Guy. “Who the devil is that fellow?”
“Who is what fellow?” Guy asked.
“That man riding between Lady Cinna and Miss Tewksbury,” Nicholas pointed out. “He was with you a moment ago, Pross. Who the devil is he?” Nicholas scowled at the trio ahead of them, unaware that he was looking at Elise in disguise.
Before Prospero could respond, Guy shot Prospero a sly grin and a knowing wink. “Oh, him? That’s Elliott, Prospero’s cousin.”
“Cousin? Prospero, you don’t have any cousins in London. I had better go see to Miss Tewksbury before...” Nicholas started forward, but Prospero caught his arm as he rode past.
“There’s no need. It’s just my fiancée.”
Nicholas’s face paled. “Did you just say Miss Tewksbury is your fiancée? When did this happen?”
Prospero couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no, old friend, not her.”
“Cinna, then?” Guy cut in, his eyes suddenly hard and cold.
Prospero choked on a chuckle. Lord, his friends were so clearly besotted with Elise’s friends that neither could jump to the most obvious conclusion. “It’s Elise. Elise and I are engaged. It is her that you see between Cinna and Edwina. She’s dressed as a man in order to study male behavior in the park.”
His friends relaxed, though confusion now replaced the concern on their faces.
“I will come back to the fact that she is dressed like a man,” said Nicholas. “But first you must explain how you became engaged to Miss Hamblin in less than a week.”
“’Tis not a short story,” Prospero warned.
“’Tis not a small park,” Nicholas countered.
And so Prospero told his friends how he ended up being engaged to the little naturalist. Guy crowed in triumph as he announced that he’d wagered this would happen in the betting book at Berkeley’s, to which Prospero only laughed and Nicholas rolled his eyes. It was good to be with his two dearest friends again after all these years. He and Guy had missed Nicholas dearly while they’d been in Paris.
* * *
“Oh, I do love weddings,” Edwina said. “And yes, Cinna, before you chastise me, I am fully aware of how you hate them.”
“I hate what they represent. They are barbaric rituals.” Cinna looked toward Edwina, and her gaze turned serious. “Are you truly marrying this man because you want to?”
Elise nodded. “My father wishes it, but he knows better than to give orders, so he has made it his last request. In truth, I agreed because I like him.”
“Of course you like your father.” Cinna nodded in understanding. “But that’s no reason to?—”
“No, I mean because I like Prospero.” Her face felt flushed, but she didn’t want to lie to her friends about how she was falling under the spell of the infamous Earl of March.
“You do?” Cinna glanced over her shoulder at the three men following them at a polite, discreet distance.
“So you like him. But does he like you?” Edwina asked, hope shining in her eyes.
“Yes, he does. That is why he agreed to my father’s request.”
“Does this mean we get to help you plan your wedding?” Edwina asked. “Please say we can.”
“I was hoping you would. It must be done in a few days. My father—” She halted as a lump formed in her throat. She’d tried so hard not to think about his condition over the last few hours. “We don’t know how long he has.”
“Then we will do whatever you need, won’t we?” Cinna said, and she was met with a nod of agreement from Edwina.
“Thank you.” Elise felt that knot of dread loosen a little. Prospero was right. She had two friends who wanted to help. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she leaned on them just a little.
Edwina took control like a general rallying her troops. “If we have only a few days to plan a wedding, we shouldn’t be wasting time in the park. We need to organize. Cinna, you will help Elise find a gown and prepare her trousseau. I will handle the wedding breakfast preparations and the flowers at St. George’s. We mustn’t forget the invitations.”
“You’ve made her very happy,” Cinna whispered to Elise. “She’ll be singing wedding marches for the rest of the year.”
Elise sighed. “I know.” Despite the lump of pain in her heart, she felt a stirring of quiet hope that she’d never felt before.
“Oh my... I’ve only just remembered your wager with our surly neighbor. What will you tell Mr. Holmes?” Cinna asked suddenly.
“Oh heavens,” Elise gasped, startling all three horses. “What will I tell him?”
Edwina tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I rather think that when a woman agrees to marry a man, she must know him and understand him, so doesn’t that mean you win?”
“Not all people know or understand each other when they marry,” Cinna interjected. “Plenty of people marry strangers for money or other reasons. Or they do so in haste, fueled by their fleeting feelings of the moment. At least, I expect that is what Mr. Holmes would say.”
“True, but women like us... we wouldn’t do that,” Edwina argued.
Elise frowned. “No, we wouldn’t, but Cinna is right. Holmes might very well argue any of her points, so it is up to us to convince him otherwise. I shall present my case, offer him my scientific findings. I won’t lose this wager without a fight. I think we had better send an invitation to Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson and tell them to bring that blasted violin to the wedding breakfast.”