Chapter Twenty-six
Arthur stormed over the dark wooden floorboards of the inn. “Have you seen Admiral Fitzroy?”
The other patrons stared at him. Perhaps his question had resembled a shout.
“A man,” he said. “With the most beautiful woman in the world?”
“Was she blonde?” one patron asked.
“With eyes as blue as the Mediterranean,” Arthur said dreamily.
The patron blinked. “Upstairs.” He frowned. “The nicest room is 203. Perhaps try that.”
Arthur shouted a thank you, and barreled up the steps. His heart galloped, his legs burned, and he pounded on the door of 203.
“Madeline? Darling?”
A squeak sounded. It was so faint, the door was thick, but it was the loveliest sound in the world.
“What on earth are you doing?” a voice shouted.
He recognized Admiral Fitzroy’s baritone, and grinned.
This was a start.
He’d found her.
All he had to do was—
The door was bolted, and he grabbed a side table and slammed it against the entrance until the door gave way.
He rushed into the room.
Madeline sat in a chair. Her hands were tied behind her. Her hair was wild, her perfect locks tangled, but she was still the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
He’d been worried she might be transported off to some French prison in some unknown location or to New South Wales.
But she was here. In this room. And soon—in his arms.
He rushed toward her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Admiral Fitzroy shouted.
Arthur didn’t hesitate. He still rushed to Madeline and cut off the ties.
“I’m taking my wife back home,” he said.
“But,” Admiral Fitzroy stammered. “She tricked you. She tricked us all. Didn’t you get my letter?”
“Of course I did,” Arthur said. “That’s how I knew that you’d taken her.”
“Your wife is a criminal.”
“My wife was helping families who’d had their life savings stolen from them. Yes, what she did was illegal in France. But it was very much appreciated by the people she gave their savings back to.”
“Still illegal,” Admiral Fitzroy said.
“You think it was legal for the French to steal prized heirlooms?”
“It was a battle, Carmichael. You know that. The rules are different.”
“And in peacetime you get to make the rules that benefit you. Well I think that’s nonsense. As did Madeline. And I’m proud of Madeline for taking them back.”
Madeline blinked.
“I’m—I’m sorry I never told you that,” Arthur said.
He kneeled beside her, smoothing her wrists. The skin was still red from the rope.
“France expects us to send her to them. She can be tried in a French court, and perhaps if what you say is true—”
Arthur laughed. “Don’t send her. France does not want to admit to anyone that they stole so much. Some stories are in their interest to minimize.”
“But the people she stole from—”
“Were wealthy before, and are still wealthy. They didn’t even pay for the jewels. They were given them.”
“Well,” Admiral Fitzroy frowned. “That might be the case, but for Anglo-French relations.”
“Blast Anglo-French relations,” Arthur said.
Admiral Fitzroy’s eyebrows rose.
Arthur didn’t care if he was shocking the man. He only cared about Madeline.
“You realize you’re ruining any chance of a political career,” the admiral said.
“I don’t care,” Arthur said.
Madeline’s eyes widened. “You mustn’t—”
“It’s fine, darling,” Arthur said quickly. “I think I’ve contributed enough to the British government over the years to earn a favor.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Perhaps the prime minister cares about the man who foiled assassination attempts on him.”
Admiral Fitzroy shifted in his seat. “Well…”
“I thought so,” Arthur said.
“I am offering you the political career you told me you wanted, and you are throwing it away on a criminal,” Admiral Fitzroy said slowly. “You were not having a relationship with her. When you visited her cottage, you were simply following her from the scene of the crime. Do you really want to throw everything away? I am offering you an annulment. I urge you to accept it.”
“I am happily giving it up for the love of my life.” He grasped Madeline’s hands. “Sweetheart, I love you. I—I should have told you before. I was scared. And so foolish. I—” He inhaled. “I understand if you don’t love me back but I just thought you should know.”
Madeline squeezed his hands. “Darling, I love you as well.”
Happiness soared through him.
He pulled her into his arms and marched from the inn.
“You’ll need to pay for the jewels,” the admiral shouted after him.
“Show me their proof of purchase.”
He could pay for them. If it was necessary, he would. Even if he had to give up every material thing in the world to do so.
As long as he had Madeline by his side, in his arms, in his heart—it would all be fine.
Clapping sounded as he descended the steps and the patrons cheered.
“I have her,” he called out, and some of the patrons hollered enthusiasm.
“I have him,” Madeline said, and right then before all of them she reached up and kissed him.
More cheers sounded, and Arthur was consumed with happiness.
*
“You came for me,” Madeline said.
“Naturally.”
“And you gave up everything to do it.”
Arthur stroked her hair, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “The only thing worthwhile for me to ever give up would be you.”
“You have me,” she said again and they kissed.
He lifted her up onto his horse and then he pulled himself up behind her.
The horse trotted away from the public house toward their manor house and all the dreams they would have together.
“I was so worried,” Arthur confessed.
He pulled her toward him, trying to comfort her.
Madeline shivered, even though the rare English sun had finally made an appearance and was beaming down on them in full force.
“They took me,” she said. “Admiral Fitzroy’s men. They grabbed me in the garden and told me they would send me back to France.”
“But I found you,” Arthur said.
“Yes.” Madeline was silent. “When you said—that. Did you mean it?”
Her cheeks flamed. She shouldn’t have asked him. She should have been content with the fact that he’d rescued her.
When he’d come for her in France, he’d kissed her before Admiral Fitzroy and declared his intentions to marry her.
Perhaps this had been the same: something to make the admiral release him, despite the possible fury of France.
Perhaps he would still want to spend long weeks in London by himself, just as Maxwell had.
But she still asked the question. She still asked if the statement that he loved her was true, because if it was—it was the most amazing thing in the world.
And she would risk all sorts of humiliation if there was even a chance that that was correct.
Arthur was silent, and her heart sped up.
Then she noticed that he was stroking her waist. The gesture seemed tender, almost self-conscious, as if he were deep in thought.
“Madeline,” he said finally. “Of course I love you. You are the bravest, most intelligent, most beautiful woman I have ever met.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed,” he said firmly, and this time he pulled her even closer. He flitted kisses over her cheeks and then she turned and he kissed her on her mouth and all was bliss, all was wonderful.
“I love you too,” Madeline murmured. “I think I loved you my first season.”
He stroked her hair. “Then you, my dear, are quite silly to have told your uncle you didn’t want me to court you anymore.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t tell anyone that.”
“But Sir Seymour—”
She closed her eyes. “Never pay attention to anything that man says.”
“He told me you couldn’t bear the thought of telling me yourself—”
“So you left.” Understanding dawned on Madeline. Her heart tumbled downward, and she felt queasy.
“Yes.”
“You truly wanted to—”
“I would have proposed,” Arthur said. “I loved you.”
“To think of the years we wasted,” Madeline said.
Uncle Seymour.
He’d destroyed her growing happiness with his meddling. If only he hadn’t been in London that season. If only Arthur hadn’t taken her uncle seriously. If only she had confronted Arthur, written him, instead of assuming his disappearance could be explained away by his masculinity, as the Matchmaking for Wallflowers articles warned.
An unfamiliar rage coursed through her body, and tears prickled her eyes.
She’d lost so many years with him. She’d spent so long being unhappy.
“I’m so sorry.” Arthur squeezed her more tightly to him.
She inhaled. “Let’s think of the years we have left.”
After all, he loved her.
The sun moved downward, casting everything in delicious pink and lilac light, as if all the world were celebrating with them.