Chapter 33
Greg and Arnold had taken the horses back to London in a haste, while Hermy took the carriage back with Hannah and the children. The way back was agony, hoping Greg could execute the last move—that he even wanted to in light of the coup List had landed.
Hannah brought Hermy home with her and told Rachel and Lizzie about the events, but Fave had been called to an audience.
The sun had just gone down, but Hermy felt as though she hadn’t seen Greg in hours. Days.
When Greg, Arnold, Fave, and Gustav returned from St. James, she rushed to the door at the Pearlers’ to hear what had happened. “The Prince?”
“He knew I didn’t lose the game, so there was no abeyance under the will.” Greg put his hands on Hermy’s upper arms. “The earldom reverted to the Crown.”
Hermy’s breath hitched, or perhaps she had lost the ability to breathe, but the pesky butterfly in her chest had woken up and seemed to have a mind of its own.
“I lost the earldom?” She looked into the round of faces. Rachel and Hannah mirrored her confusion. Gustav came to Eve’s side and looked at Hermy tenderly.
“Yes, the earldom reverted to the Crown and is no longer in the Ellsworth name,” Arnold said. “My guardianship was invalidated because of the Jewish Disabilities Act.”
Hermy’s heart throbbed in her chest. So she was going to a convent? Locked up again and away from Greg? Air failed to enter her lungs, and the room started spinning. Her vision blurred and her eyes burned with the heat of tears.
Her hands fluttered as aimlessly as the butterfly in her chest. “But I thought … if the queen steps away and there’s a discovered attack…” She searched Arnold’s eyes, and he gave an odd smile. Had he lost his mind?
Then she looked at Greg, who was holding her tightly and beaming. “You are brilliant. It was the only move left, the best move, and you saved everything.” Hermy heard Greg’s words, but she didn’t understand. “The earldom will return to your line as soon as you marry me.”
“With this special license and the Crown’s blessings.” Fave handed her the document with the Archbishop’s signature.
Hermy’s hands trembled as she blinked. Greg’s name had been crossed out.
No, only his title.
And it was written over, marked with red wax … she heaved for air, with a royal seal.
…hereby grant our Special License to Gregory Stone, Earl of Ashby of Westminster and Lady Hermione Alexandra Ellsworth of Kent, declaring them free to contract matrimony, without proclamation of Banns, at any time of day, and solemnized by any lawful minister.
“The earldom reverted to the Crown, not to List. Steven had nothing to pass on, and, Nagy had no footing to withdraw the funds and pay off the entailed debts. So we have to pay them off ourselves if you’ll be my Countess?” Greg beamed.
Hermy blinked. “Pay them off?”
“Yes, I have enough money.”
“Ourselves?”
“Yes, as Earl and Countess of Ashby. If you’ll still have me.”
Hermy’s trembling hands grew moist as they clasped around Greg”s as she looked into his eyes, the depth of her love reflected in his unwavering gaze. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision but not dimming the brilliance of this moment. She had fought against despair, navigated through a maze of treachery, and now stood victorious, her heart full to bursting with joy. The echoes of past struggles seemed to fade into insignificance as she felt the warmth of Greg”s presence before her.
“And your efforts in Parliament?” Hermy asked.
“I’ve thought about that.” Greg said solemnly. ”Hermy,” he began, his voice steady and filled with conviction, ”we”ve faced so many battles apart, but now it”s time we fight them together. I need my queen by my side—the strongest piece on the board.”
She formed an “o” with her lips but no question grasped the whirlwind in her mind.
“Women don’t have a voice in parliament, not even a Duchess.” He quirked a brow. “So how would you like to have your words spoken in the House of Lords despite?—”
“It’s impossible,” Hermy reckoned.
“Unless you write my speeches. May your words be spoken, even if it’s only by me.”
And that left her breathless.