Queen of Diamonds (28 page)
“I suppose that is natural, after the accident,” Jack said, “but Lottie never had one either. The new pony was waiting for her here, as a gift when she returned from the visit north.”
Hellen was squeezing Mr. Browne's hand so hard he gasped. Mrs. Pettigrew kept stuffing bonbons in her mouth.
Jack's next question was Queenie's doll's name.
Queenie laughed. “Why, Dolly, like most other little girls', I think. I do remember how beautiful she was, so regal looking before her clothes fell into tatters and her porcelain face got chipped. I always thought she should have been called Queenie, instead of me.”
“But she was. The doll was a gift from the queen herself. You were named Charlotte after her.”
Queenie shook her head no. Eleanor, Lady Carde, started weeping.
Jack almost whispered his last question: “What were your brothers' names?”
“Oh, everyone knows you are Alexander and Jonathan, or Ace and Jack.” She turned toward Jack's wife. “You even told me, at the gaming club, thinking I was trying for the reward.”
Valerie Pettigrew started to ask about the reward, but her new son-in-law to-be passed her a dish of comfits to shut her up.
Alex asked, “But you do not remember your brothers, for yourself?”
Queenie shook her head sadly, for these handsome men would have been the perfect siblings, one to make any girl feel proud and protected. “When I heard the question I thought I might have recalled an Andy or Endy from another time. Perhaps the orphanage. And there must have been a score of Johns and Jacks there.”
“But I was Viscount Endicott before I succeeding to my father's dignities. Only Jack and my schoolmates called me Alex or Ace. Nanny only referred to me as Endicott.”
Without thought, Queenie said, “Nanny Molnar was in the coach.”
“Damn, I barely remembered Nanny's last name,” Jack said.
Rourke spoke up for the first time. “The name would have been in the original crime records.”
Everyone except Queenie glared at him.
She admitted, “I did read the old newspaper articles, once I knew of the connection. I might have seen it there.”
“But a poor orphan would not have had a nanny. Or been in a smashed coach at the same time as our Lottie.”
“Or had a pretty doll.”
“And no pony.”
Now there were more tears, and Eleanor opened her arms for Queenie to come for an embrace. “My little cousin.”
Queenie stayed back. “I am not sure.”
“I am,” Eleanor insisted, and no one was about to argue with a woman about to give birth. “Alex, Jack, take her up to the nursery and see if she recalls anything there to restore her memory. That would be where little Lottie spent most of her time, so nothing here could be as familiar.”
Only Queenie and the Endicott brothers went upstairs. And Harry, of course.
They were introduced to a small white dog and a dark-haired toddler with the earl's commanding nose. Queenie hoped little Viscount Endicott grew into his aquiline extension as well as his father had, bearing it with dignity and authority. Jack Endicott would have had the same large feature, except that his nose was crooked, obviously broken, adding to his raffish appearance. Queenie touched her own small, straight nose and sighed. Then she looked around. “No, nothing is familiar to me.”
Alex shook his head. “My wife gets odd notions. The nursery has been repainted, naturally, and all the fragile girlish toys put in storage, out of harm's way of my rambunctious son.”
But not the dollhouse. Queenie looked up to the window shelf and went straight to the closed cabinet with its peaked roof. Without hesitation she turned the latch and opened the door. She reached in and took out a palm-sized dining table. “You broke it, Jack, using it for a fort for your soldiers, but Endy fixed it before I could go crying to Papa.”
One of the table legs was amateurishly glued.
Alex had to wipe his glasses again, but Jack said, “Welcome home, sister.”
There were so many tears, so many explanations to the others, so many toasts and hugs and more tears, that Lady Jennifer and Camden came back and had to join the celebration. Charlie and Parfait, who now wore one of Harriet's bonnets, got to sip the champagne too. An old hound sadly eyed the empty bonbon dish.
Queenie had to make certain that no one blamed Hellen or, worse, Mr. Browne, before she could relax. They were both instantly forgiven. Jack declared he would purchase a house near the school for the newlyweds. He and Alex would have bought them a castle, they were so happy. Their vow to their father had been fulfilled, and they had their sister home. They were never going to let her out of their sight again, they both swore, not even to attend her friend's wedding at the Browne family inn if they could help it.
“But what about our wedding?” Harry wanted to know.
“It will be here of course,” Nell ordered, “for I cannot travel.”
Alex frowned. “Not so fast. No one has asked my permission.”
Jack added, “And I am inclined to darken your daylights, Harking, for taking liberties with my little sister.”
Alex was holding his son, letting the child play with his fobs. He took his watch out of the boy's mouth before saying, “With respect, Harking, I am not entirely certain you are worthy of Lady Charlotte Endicott. Your prospects have never been altogether prepossessing, and your family reputation less so. Whereas you used to be known as a sober, serious chap, the word from town and all the
on dits
columns is that you have been acting the jackass, to put it simply. Our sister is a considerable heiress, you know. I would have to speak to the solicitors to find the extent of her fortune from her mother, but the sum has been invested and multiplied many times over. Lottie also owns the Ambeaux estate near Hull from her grandparents, which I have seen brought back to profitability. And then there is the reward money.”
Rourke had another glass of wine, knowing he would not be able to afford such an expensive vintage again, for he had done nothing to restore the missing heiress.
Hellen and Browne were too exalted over their promised home to care about the money, and Mrs. Pettigrew conceded she had no chance at it.
“Unless you think you are entitled to the money, Harking?”
“Of course not. Queenie, Madame Lescartes, brought herself home.”
Queenie was appalled. “You think I would accept money from you, after all I said? Give it to the new school, or an orphanage if you must, where the children need every groat. I will have none of it.”
The brothers exchanged a silent, satisfied communication. Not only was their little sister beautiful and bright, but she was good-hearted and full of pride, a true Endicott. Then Alex excused himself, passing his son to the boy's uncle Jack.
Lady Carde described the property at Hull while they waited, while Harry and Jack glared at each other over the toddler's head.
The earl returned shortly bearing a small chest. He opened it and tipped the contents into Queenie's lap. Rings, necklaces, broaches, pearls, diamonds and rubies sparkled against her black skirts.
“These were your mother's, Lizbeth's. My Nell received all of the entailed pieces, of course, and Jack's bride chose what she wanted from our mother's personal collection. So this is part of your fortune too. When you are presented at court, you will have every eligible gentleman in town at your feet, and not merely for your wealth and family connection, but for your beauty also. So there is no need to rush into any hasty alliance. Furthermore, we just found you. I could not bear to lose you so soon.”
“Oh, Alex,” the earl's fond wife chided, “stop being so stuffy. Anyone can see they are in love.”
Alex raised his eyebrows in question to Queenie. Jack made a rude noise.
Queenie was overwhelmed and overwrought from the events of the day, to say nothing of exhausted from the previous night. She looked from one brother to the other, the earl who was so assured, confident of his authority and power, and Jack, so dashing and brave. Then she looked at their wives, beautiful although bloated Cousin Eleanor, and charming Allison, the former school teacher who had made her feel less of an interloper among the aristocrats. She stared around the room, seeing a family, a loving home filled with children and dogs. They were her kin, after all these years. Her heart swelled with a sense of belonging that she had never known. They wanted to give her riches and houses and the protection of their illustrious name, a place in society, advantages she had never imagined. They truly wanted her.
But she was not the child needing rescuing, nor the shy, uncertain young female needing guidance. She was an independent woman with a mind of her own. She twisted the ribbons on her gown while they all waited, then she sat up straighter and spoke in firm tones, so they would understand. “I am sorry, my lord, that is, Brother Alex, Brother Jack, my ladies, but I cannot let anyone decide my fate for me. Never again. I am overcome at your generosity and good intentions on my behalf, but I do not need jewels or country estates or vast bank accounts. And I think I would die of fright to be presented at court. You see, I, and only I, can decide what I want.”
“Which is?”
She turned to look behind her at Harry, standing so stiffly, so stoically, at her back. His dear face was tinged with color as everyone stared at him, but he stepped to the front of her chair and, ignoring the entire avid audience, dropped to his knees.
“My dear, your brother is correct. I am not worthy of Lady Charlotte Endicott. I have no fortune or vast property, no standing in polite society, and a somewhat tarnished reputation.” He reached into his pocket and took out a diamond ring. “And this is the only jewel I can offer you, along with all my love, forever and ever.”
“You loved me and trusted me before anyone.”
“Without question, but with all my heart.”
She held her hand out, for him to place the ring on her finger. “And I love you, Harry Harking. Without question. And I shall try to be the perfect wife for you. If I do not know how to be perfect, I shall be the best I can be, with all my heart.”
* * *
Alex wanted them to wait three weeks for the wedding, to call the banns properly, to quiet the inevitable gossip. Eleanor wanted to wait for after her baby's birth, so she could invite the entire countryside and half of London to the combined nuptials and reunion. Jack thought they should wait a year, to be certain of their commitment. Harry wished to use his special license the next morning, or the carriage that evening, to flee to Gretna Green. Everyone ignored him.
Queenie decided on two weeks. It was her wedding, after all, and she was not going to let anyone tell her how to go on, or else she would be merely the little sister, the awkward bride, the willow bending to a husband's will. Besides, she needed the time to sew the perfect wedding gown.
“Blue like your eyes?” Harry asked. “Or pink as your lips? Creamy as your skin? Anything but black will do, I suppose, but I much prefer you this way.”
This way was dressed in his embrace and little else.
They had been given rooms at opposite ends of Carde Hall, thanks to reformed rakes and protective brothers, but they had found the gazebo and a grotto, shaded, secluded paths and even an empty cottage on the grounds, so all was not lost for the two weeks. In fact, much was found, now that all of the doubts were laid to rest.
All but one.
“I do not know how to address you, my love,” Harry complained. “Your old friends call you Queenie, your new family insists on Lottie, while the strangers who have been parading through the drawing room use Lady Charlotte. Charlie refuses to refer to you as anything but Madame Denise. And your bacon-brained brother Jack swears he will run me through with his sword if I say â
chérie
' one more time. He says it is disrespectful and beneath your dignity.”
Since Queenie was beneath him at the time, she could only laugh at his concern.
“Truly, sweetings, what name do you prefer?”
“Why, Lady Harking, of course.”
And so she became, and swore before her family and friends and heaven itself to be until her last breath.
But to Harry she would always be a combination of the sophisticated Madame Lescartes, the spirited
chérie
who had given herself to him in love, the Lottie who could finally laugh, and the true lady she was now. Most of all, though, and forever after, she was Queenie, the queen of his heart.
