She’d never again complain about a dull life.
If she must be restless, why couldn’t she bask in the joy of love returned? Instead a quieter moment played ceaselessly in her mind. The doubt and self-hatred in Richard’s voice when he spoke of his bastardy.
She’d learned enough about him to realize that for every slight he described, he’d endured a thousand more that he’d never reveal. His long-concealed anguish made her stomach cramp with pity—and anger at those who disparaged him.
She’d once thought him a man who had enjoyed an unfairly easy ride through life, thanks to looks, wealth, and breeding. How appallingly wrong she’d been. How self-satisfied. How self-righteous.
Yet the miracle was that still he said he loved her. And she loved him. More than she loved anything else in the world. She wished she lay waking because she gloried in his love. But a sadder, more onerous truth pounded in her mind as she counted each slow minute toward dawn.
If she loved Richard, she couldn’t contribute to his misery.
When Richard entered the library, the sun just peeked above the horizon. Immediately, his attention leveled on Genevieve. She curled up in the bay window, staring pensively out at the dew-laden garden.
“Can’t you sleep?” He closed the door behind him. The servants were about, but he assumed that Sedgemoor and his guests were still asleep upstairs. Although he’d heard Consuela crying during the night, so that assumption might be a little optimistic for Jonas and Sidonie.
Genevieve turned toward him, the glow in her eyes setting his heart aflame. “No.”
Desire slammed through him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do a damned thing about it.
He’d dressed before coming downstairs, but she looked as though she’d just risen from her bed. Her beautiful hair lay loose and she wore an extravagant green silk dressing gown. He loved to see her lush beauty arrayed in rich fabrics and colors like this or like last night’s gown. She’d always been a jewel. She’d only lacked the right setting to do her justice.
“Me either.” His step light—he was in love, his darling loved him back, and the sinister forces that had threatened their lives and happiness had receded, he hoped forever—he crossed to her side.
She raised her arms. “Kiss me, Richard.”
“With pleasure.”
Heat. Passion. Love. Eventually he raised his head and cradled her against him. He must look insufferably smug, but he couldn’t help it. To think that this magnificent woman loved him.
“We can’t make love,” she said breathlessly. “Anyone could come in.”
He pretended shock. “Why, Miss Barrett, the thought never crossed my mind.”
With a low laugh, she pressed closer. “I’m sure.”
“I can’t tell you how often I watched you stitching away on your window seat and wanted to have my way with you.”
“You’re a wicked man,” she said in a tone that told him she loved him.
He caught the hand fisted against his shoulder. “What have you got there?”
Her fingers unfolded to reveal the Harmsworth Jewel. Cam had passed it to her last night. Once it had offered Richard a preternatural connection to a heritage that he now accepted wasn’t his by blood. And never would be. The realization was remarkably liberating.
He stared at the gold and enamel artifact. “How powerful our imaginations are. When I thought the jewel was real, it was magical. Now however beautiful it is, it’s just an object.”
“I’m giving it to you.”
His head jerked up. “It doesn’t prove anything about my birth.”
To his regret, she pulled away. His knowledge of her love was so new that any distance felt like a danger to his happiness. Then he caught her grave expression and knew that the chill trickling down his backbone didn’t entirely result from clinging insecurities. “Genevieve, what is it?”
She stood. The light strengthened, revealing that the silver had left her eyes. Instead they were a flat gray, like the sea on a rainy day. “Only you and I know that the jewel is a copy.”
He frowned, not sure where she was going. “Cam does.”
“You could swear him to silence.”
Deeply perturbed now, he too rose. “Why on earth would I do that? Once your article is published, the secret will be out.”