Her Highness, My Wife (16 page)

“Your Grace,” Tatiana echoed.

Matt bit back a grin. His princess was not used to deferring to anyone, but right now she was no princess. She was his wife.

“I am so pleased to see you again.” The dowager held out her hand. “It has been far too long, Matthew.”

He stepped to her at once, took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I’m afraid, ma’am, you have me at a disadvantage. I do not recall meeting before.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You were a mere child. Your grandmother brought you and your brothers here for a visit so many years ago I cannot say for certain when it was, but I distinctly remember what an enjoyable time your family had with my own grandchildren.” The old woman shook her head and sighed.

“It is exceedingly odd, as one progresses through life, that it is often easier to remember what happened twenty years ago than the incidents of yesterday.”

The dowager turned her attention to Tatiana. “And you must be Lady Matthew.”

“Your Grace,” Tatiana said and bobbed another curtsy.

“Come, now, my dear, we do not stand on ceremony here, particularly when it concerns members of the family. And whether Matthew realizes it or not, I quite consider him to be in the wide circle of family that encompasses close friends. His grandmother is one of my oldest and dearest friends and I have always thought of her with the affection one reserves for a sister.” Her gaze slid back to Matt. “We correspond quite regularly. Did you know that?”

“No, I wasn’t aware of that.” The cravat around his neck seemed to tighten.

“Yes, indeed. Often enough to know that you”—she pinned him with a firm gaze—“do not. In point of fact, even with my spotty memory, I am certain she has written that she has not heard from you in many years. Am I correct, Matthew?”

“Possibly.” The neckcloth was definitely getting tighter.

“Furthermore, she has never mentioned your marriage.” The dowager studied him. “I would wager a great deal she is unaware of it. Would you take that wager, Matthew?”

“Probably not.” He resisted the urge to tug at his cravat and wondered if the lady would let him strangle to death before her very eyes.

“Your Grace, Lord Matthew has been extremely busy in recent years.” Tatiana stepped forward. “He was at sea, and now with his work with aerostats—”

“Ah, yes, the balloons.” The dowager nodded in a knowing manner. Tatiana slanted Matt a quick look. “You can certainly understand how time would simply slip through his fingers.”

Matt cast Tatiana a grateful glance for her defense.

“He truly has the best of intentions,” Tatiana continued. “But you do understand how men can be when it comes to matters like correspondence.”

“That, my dear,” the dowager said firmly, “is why they have wives.”

Tatiana smiled weakly and Matt wondered if she too felt an invisible noose around her neck.

“There is never an excuse for thoughtlessness or discourtesy. However, I suppose when there has been a rift in the family, such things are to be understood and forgiven.” She fixed Matt with a pointed look.

“Do I make myself clear, Matthew?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quickly, even though he wasn’t entirely certain what he had just agreed to or what the dowager expected of him.

“Excellent.” Her Grace nodded. “I gather, from appearances when I walked in, you have not been wed for any length of time?”

“Indeed, it has not been very long,” Matt said.

Tatiana nodded. “Not at all.”

“Barely a week,” Matt said.

“Little more than a year,” Tatiana’s voice sounded in unison with his. He stifled a groan. How convincing would their deception be if they couldn’t agree on how long they had been married?

“I see,” the dowager said slowly.

“No, Your Grace, I am quite sure you do not.” Tatiana stepped forward.

“My love.” A warning sounded in his voice. “Tatiana.”

She ignored him. “Shortly after we were wed, more than a year ago, family obligations forced me to return to Avalonia. Unfortunately my husband was unable to accompany me. It is only recently that I have returned to England and Matthew.”

“And you have done so to write about my old friend, the Princess Sophia.”

“Precisely.” Tatiana flashed him a triumphant smile. “But more importantly to return to my husband.”

“Indeed.” The dowager studied her for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied. “We have a great deal to discuss. About your princess as well as your husband.”

“I am quite looking forward to it.” Tatiana beamed at the older woman, who returned her smile. At once Matt had the oddest sensation of being excluded from something of great importance. Unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Excellent. Please excuse me for a moment.” Her Grace turned and stepped into the foyer, signaling to a servant.

Matt moved to Tatiana and bent to speak low into her ear. “This will not work.”

“Nonsense,” she said quietly. “It is progressing beautifully.”

“I do not like lying to her.”

“We are not lying. We are simply not revealing everything.”

“It feels like lying.”

“Well, it is not. We have not said a single word that is not essentially true.” She sighed. “Besides, Matthew, the essence of a good lie is that it is based in truth. You would do well to remember that.”

“I don’t care how much basic truth there is in it, I refuse to lie to her.”

“Then I alone shall lie to her,” she said quickly. “Will that ease your too-busy conscience?”

“No,” he snapped. “Whether I like it or not, I am part of this deception. However, I will make a bargain with you. You tell me the truth right now, and then I will decide whether or not to continue with your charade.”

“The truth?”

“Yes.”

“Which truth exactly?” she said slowly.

“What do you mean, which truth? How many truths are there to choose from?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Or should I say, how many lies?”

“One or two.” She bit her bottom lip. “Or more.”

“I want all of it, Tatiana. Why you are here. What you want. Everything.”

“What if you do not like what you hear?”

He clenched his jaw. “Then I shall not be disappointed, as I do not expect to like it.”

She met his gaze defiantly. “And if I do not confess all?”

“I shall tell the dowager who you really are. Regardless of your true purpose, I suspect that will hinder your efforts.”

“Very well, you leave me no choice. Obviously, now is not the time, but I am willing to explain all tonight when we are alone.” She raised a shoulder in a careless shrug. “I had planned on telling you everything soon at any rate.”

He straightened and stared down at her. “You are, without a doubt, the most—”

“Matthew, if you would be so good as to accompany me in to dinner.” The dowager stepped back into the room.

“I would be honored.” He hurried to her side, praying he and Tatiana had kept their voices low enough to keep their discussion private.

“It shall only be the three of us tonight.” Her Grace took his arm and smiled up at him. “I quite look forward to a long evening of conversation. It should be most interesting.”

Not nearly as interesting as later tonight would be. Matt forced an unconcerned smile and uttered his first real lie of the night. “I do hope so, ma’am.”

If indeed there was an underlying topic of conversation at the dinner table that continued even after the meal was finished and the trio had retired to a large drawing room, it was the importance of family. The dowager spoke at length about the various members of the impressively large, and apparently ever-increasing, Effington family. Tatiana was grateful none of the Effington relations were in residence at the moment. She would never be able to remember the endless number of names and titles. The older woman went on about Matthew’s family as well, obviously making it her mission to reacquaint him with the lives of his brothers. Tatiana realized Matthew’s name on the note she had sent was the reason why the dowager had responded so quickly and so graciously. Now the discussion gave Tatiana a fascinating glimpse into the past of the man she loved.

He was the youngest of four sons of the Marquess of Stanwick and had no sisters. His mother had died shortly after his birth and his father within the past few years, while Matthew was still serving at sea. Unfortunately, Her Grace did not specifically bring up whatever had caused the rift between Matthew and the rest of the Weston family, but from what she did say, or perhaps what she did not, Tatiana had the distinct impression whatever had happened was by no means insurmountable. Judging by the expression in Matthew’s eye, he may well have come to the same conclusion. Was it pride, then, that kept this man from returning to those people he had once cared for? Or was it

fear? Tatiana certainly understood that kind of fear. It clutched at your heart and kept you from turning to the one you loved because you feared opening your heart might destroy you. Whether she wished to or not, tonight she would face that fear with Matthew. One way or another, the past between them would be resolved. Could she help him resolve his own past?

“I am sorry, my dear.” The dowager cast Tatiana an apologetic smile. She and Tatiana sat on a small sofa. Matthew had settled into the chair closest to the older woman. “Matthew and I have quite monopolized the conversation with talk of his family and mine. Now I should like to hear something of your background.”

“There is very little to say, Your Grace.” Tatiana picked up her glass of sherry and sipped, ignoring the apprehensive glance cast her by Matthew.

“Your note said you were from Avalonia. Do you have family there?”

The essence of a good lie is that it is based in truth. Tatiana smiled pleasantly. “I do indeed. My father and my brothers all reside in Avalonia.”

“Is that it, then?” The dowager raised a curious brow. “No aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents?”

“Regretfully, I have very few other relations. A handful of distant cousins, nothing more.” Tatiana took another sip of wine and met Matthew’s gaze over the rim of the glass. Tonight she would tell him everything. And tonight they would at last—

“What a pity.” The older woman studied her thoughtfully. “Yet surely you have some blood connection to your country’s royal family?”

Tatiana struggled to keep her composure.

“Why do you say that, ma’am?” Matthew asked quickly.

“Why, my dear boy”—the dowager’s brows drew together—“she bears a startling likeness to the Princess Sophia. Unless my memory is far worse than I suspected, it’s quite remarkable.”

“Do I?” Tatiana forced a light laugh.

Tatiana had seen portraits of the princess, of course, but most were painted when Sophia was a child or young girl. Tatiana had never noticed anything more than a vague family likeness and no one else had ever commented on the resemblance. “I suppose, then, I should confess.”

Matthew breathed a subtle sigh of relief.

“There is a distant connection between my family and the royal family. Through my father, I believe.”

She ignored the flash in Matthew’s eye. “In truth, that is one reason why I am so eager to tell her story. It seems a terrible disservice to allow this lady—a hereditary princess, no less, who had the courage to take her child and flee her country, with little more than the clothes on her back—to fade into obscurity.

“I want to know everything about her. Did she share confidences? Talk about the past? Her fears and her hopes?” She leaned closer to the older woman. “I want to know where she went and who she spoke to. Did she take long walks or morning rides? I want to see the places she saw and even the very room she stayed in.

“Frankly, I consider it”—she raised her chin a notch and her voice rang in the huge dining room—“a sacred trust.”

Matthew snorted.

Tatiana cast him a threatening glare and he hesitated, then coughed and grabbed his glass of cognac. He took a gulp and gasped.

“Forgive me.” His voice was convincingly breathless. “I had something caught in my throat.”

“We can only be grateful you did not choke to death,” Tatiana said in an overly sweet manner.

“I suspect fate is saving me for something far more painful,” he muttered and drained the rest of his drink.

Tatiana smiled. “One can only hope.”

“Fate has brought you home,” the matriarch said firmly. “How long has it been since you were last at Weston Manor, Matthew?”

Matthew had the grace to look chagrined. “Ten years or so.”

“And in all that time you have been too busy to write?” Her Grace fixed him with a chastising look. “My dear boy, one is never too busy for family. When all is said and done, the only people one can count on in this life are those people you are related to by bonds of blood or bonds of marriage or, if you are extremely lucky, bonds of friendship.”

Matthew blew a long breath and nodded slowly.

“And, as Weston Manor is less than a day’s drive from here, especially given your wife’s quest, this is indeed the perfect opportunity for you to reestablish those bonds.”