The Wild Princess

Forty-nine



“Stop, Louise. Stop!”

Louise knew it was Stephen, but she couldn’t bear to face him. Her mother had humiliated the man, tossed him out of the palace and her daughter’s life. Furthermore, she’d acknowledged their affair—if not in so many words, at least by her dismissal of Byrne and elevation of Lorne to provincial governor. Victoria had more than enough spies within her court and staff to have had people watching Louise. Did her mother even know about their night in the servants’ quarters?

Why hadn’t she been more careful?

Because, Louise thought, I’m in love. And when you were in love you were blind to all else but that one person who meant everything to you.

Now nothing mattered.

Stephen would return to America. They wouldn’t even share a few precious weeks together before she and Lorne left for Canada. There was no possibility of Stephen remaining in London, disgraced as he was, unable to work at his profession. The Secret Service couldn’t keep him on after the queen’s dismissal. Scotland Yard certainly wouldn’t hire him and risk her displeasure. No member of Parliament, or even the minor nobility, would think of using him for private security for fear of turning Victoria against them.

Her heart broken, Louise ignored Stephen’s shouts and ran the length of the Queen’s Gallery, until her breath caught and ached inside her chest, like a bone lodged halfway down her throat. What must the man think of her? What could she possibly say to him now that her mother had mortified him and ruined his career?

By the time Byrne caught up with her, he nearly had to tackle her to bring her to a halt. She felt his hands come down and clamp both of her shoulders. He dragged her to a stop and pulled her in to his chest.

Gasping and spent, she sagged against him.

“What are you doing?” he said, sounding far less winded than she, though his knee must have slowed him down.

“I-I h-hate her,” she choked out. She refused to cry although her eyes burned. Damn, damn, damn her horrid family!

He laughed. “Does that mean you hate me as well?”

She turned in his arms. “How can you act as if this were a joke? As if I could have been with you the way we were, but feel nothing for you less than twenty-four hours later?”

“I know. I’m an insensitive cad.”

She smacked him in the chest with her fist, taking care to avoid injured ribs. “There you go again, making light of . . . of what we have.” Had.

“I’m not doing any such thing.” He rocked her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Do you think that woman has the power to make me stop loving you?”

She savored this new word. Love. “You love me?”

“How could you not know that?”

“I-I suppose because . . .” Because she had given up hope until he’d said the word with that honest openness of his. “Oh, Stephen, what are we to do? I am trapped, as I’ve always been, by my destiny.”

“You won your freedom to be an artist, to venture into the world of commoners on your own.”

“But this marriage—”

“It is an impediment, agreed.”

“The scandal would destroy my family. If just one of those horrid journalists catches us, or even suspects, they’ll all begin following me around and digging into my past. Amanda’s family will suffer. Little Eddie will be labeled a bastard. And I have no doubt poor Lorne will land in prison. I can’t do that to him, though he is foolish to take the risks he does.”

“Hush,” he said and stepped to one side, drawing her into an alcove and behind an immense sculpture just as footsteps approached.

They waited for two servants to pass. Then he kissed her long and deeply until her head spun and little ripples of happiness rose up through her like Champagne bubbles, and she felt consumed by him. For a moment she actually forgot about all of the obstacles that stood in their way.

Louise tenderly touched his cheek with her fingertips. “You are leaving England as she commanded?”

“Yes.”

“You have no more choice than I do then.”

He shook his head at her, smiling. “Because I’m temporarily returning to America doesn’t mean I need to stay there.”

“I don’t understand. You can’t turn around and come back here.”

“I enjoy traveling and working on-assignment in different countries. I took this job on little more than a whim. The queen’s Secret Service contacted their American counterparts at headquarters in New York; they said they needed a man with my skills. I thought—England, why not?” He paused and let his eyes roam her face, an almost smile on his lips. “I might, on a similar whim, accept a post with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”

Her eyes widened as she began to understand. “It appears you’ve heard Lorne and I will be living in Ontario for a time.”

His eyes actually twinkled, in a dark sort of way. “Small world.”

“You would follow me?”

“Sounds sickeningly romantic, doesn’t it?” He laughed when she pouted. “Seriously. For as long as you’ll have me, Princess, I’ll come to you.”

Her heart soared. “You will?”

“I promise. Wherever you might be, I’ll find you.”

“Oh, Stephen.” Tears of happiness filled her eyes despite every effort on her part to stop them. Louise clung to him. “There’s Lorne to deal with. He won’t be happy if we are less than discreet. And, in his illogical way, I think he’s rather jealous of you.”

Byrne’s expression tightened. “The man has made his choices and will have to live by them.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I have made mine.”

She closed her eyes and savored his words for a moment before asking the question that hung over them like a storm cloud. “When will you leave for America?”

All traces of pleasure left his face. “The sooner the better to satisfy your mother. Your life will be easier if she sees I’ve gone.”

“And tomorrow? You won’t be with us for the anniversary celebration?”

He thought for a moment. “I’ll talk to the Scot. If I can’t be there, he’ll need as much information as possible.”

Although she’d have done anything to keep him with her, Louise knew the limits of her mother’s patience. If they ignored her command that Stephen leave England, Victoria might imagine a conspiracy of some sort, and accuse him of treason. If found guilty he’d face prison, or worse. Men had died for lesser indiscretions.

More precious to her than Stephen Byrne’s presence in her world was to know he was safe. For now, that meant being anywhere but in England.