Surrender the Stars (52 page)

"Then you must come back with us! My parents have plenty of room, so you mustn't worry about that. There's so much to see in London, and, of course, Oxford is practically my favorite place in all the world! I'm hoping to persuade Ryan to settle down and teach there one day."

"Listen, my darling, I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself—"

"My brother is right." Suddenly, Blake began to cough again. "I'm far too ill to leave here. Why, coming out tonight has been more than I've done in years!"

"Don't say that." Lindsay leaned forward and took his hand, her gray eyes huge and intent. "You must come with us, Blake. You've been feeling so much better during these past hours, and I'm convinced your health will improve with each day you spend in the fresh air among people. We'll go by carriage to Galway, and then you can relax in the sunshine during the voyage to England." She looked imploringly at Ryan. "Isn't that so, darling? Blake and Papa can regain their strength together!"

Perceiving the gleam of hopeful excitement in his brother's eyes, Coleraine made up his mind. "As usual, Lindsay is right. Why don't you return to London with us? We'll pace ourselves on the road so that you don't become overtired."

"Well, I suppose that it's possible..." Blake allowed, sipping his ale.

"Anything's possible!" Lindsay proclaimed. "We'll be in London before you know it! I only wish we had a balloon here so that we could fly back. I've always dreamed of riding in a balloon—"

Laughing, Ryan put his hand over her mouth. "Angel, I think that's enough dreaming for tonight. We'll all need a good night's sleep if we're to return to the ship tomorrow morning."

"Pay no attention to him," Blake told Lindsay in a stage whisper. "Keep dreaming. You're the kind of person who will turn them all into reality one way or another!"

She went over to hug him. "I want to do the same for you, too, Blake."

"It's settled, then? You're coming?" Ryan's tone said that he assumed so. "Good. Now I think we should return to the castle. I hope you don't mind houseguests!"

"No, no, of course not!" As the two younger people helped him to his feet, Blake's expression was one of wonderment. "My God, I'm embarking on an adventure—and just this morning all I had to look forward to was dying!"

Lindsay kissed his sunken cheek, her eyes wet with tears. "From now on, I'm going to see to it that you're far too busy to even
think
that word, let alone say it!"

* * *

"Good God, but you're a cheeky little minx." Ryan laughed as he joined her in bed. "Whatever happened to that toffee-nosed bluestocking who taught school in Pettipauge?"

"All
sorts
of things have happened to her." Snuggling against his hard-muscled body, Lindsay gazed up at Ryan's starlit profile, then turned to look out the window. "She met an arrogant, crude, uncivilized Irishman who eventually convinced her that there was more to life than leading an ordered, refined existence."

"Much
more," he agreed, slipping one hand under the covers to caress the elegant curves of her breasts and belly.

"Look! There's the Big Dipper!" Lindsay pointed out the window at the glittering night sky. "Oh, Ryan, do you remember that last night on board
La Mouette
when you told me that in Ireland the Big Dipper is called the Plough? That was the first time we treated one another with tenderness."

"I suppose I should have known, certainly by that night, that we were fated," he mused, inhaling the fragrance of her hair. "I used to tell myself that just the opposite was true, that the stars were against us, but I couldn't have been more wrong."

Lindsay turned in his arms and caressed the tapering outline of Ryan's back. "I love you so."

"Ah, angel, I would gather the stars from the sky and spread them at your feet if it were possible."

Her heart began to race as he kissed his way slowly from her ear to the hollow at the base of her throat. "No, you must leave them in the heavens to light the way for the lovers who follow us...."

Ryan's answer was a long, warm, heartfelt kiss that built to a fiery crescendo. When at last he spoke, gasping from her equally passionate response, it was to murmur, "Oxford, hmm?"

Epilogue

Oxford, England

July 21, 1814

On the afternoon of Ryan and Linday's wedding, Christ Church meadow and the golden domes and spires of Oxford were awash with evanescent sunshine. Dean Jackson had succumbed to Lindsay's pleas and arranged for them to be married in the flower-drenched meadow, surrounded only by their loved ones and friends.

They stood together now before the minister, reciting their vows in the shade of misty-green pollard willows near the River Cherwell. Lindsay was an exquisite vision in a simple high-waisted gown of gossamer white muslin. Her strawberry-blond curls tumbled free over her shoulders, adorned only with a garland of buttercups, poppies, white campion, and violets. Against her bare throat sparkled diamonds in the shape of a small star; it was Ryan's wedding gift to her.

Standing in the front row of guests, Devon held fast to Andre's hand, her eyes swimming with tears as she listened to her daughter promise to love, honor, and obey. Ryan's eyebrow cocked slightly when he heard that last word, and the humor wasn't lost on his new mother-in-law either. How splendid he looked! she thought. How reminiscent the two of them were of her and Andre thirty-five years ago....

Blake Coleraine, Marquess of Clifden, stepped forward to present the ring to his brother. It was one more sign of the transformation their lives had undergone since Ryan and Lindsay had returned from Ireland. Blake was with them now, still weak and ill but happy, and Ryan Coleraine was at last able to be himself. Gone were the quizzing glass, snuffbox, and his foppish demeanor. He was impeccably handsome on his wedding day, clad in snug champagne-colored trousers, a dark blue frock coat that nearly matched his eyes, an ivory silk waistcoat, a snowy shirt, and a skillfully tied cravat. Black hair, curling at the edges, accentuated the rakish lines of his profile as he slipped the ring onto Lindsay's slim finger, then bent to kiss her. The radiant bride twined her arms about his broad shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and returned his kiss with unabashed rapture.

Then, arm in arm, they turned to greet their guests. The warm informality of the ceremony lent it the air of a true celebration. Silvery tears gleamed in Lindsay's eyes as she embraced her parents, and Ryan followed suit, careful not to press against Andre's tender shoulder. The one thing that
hadn't
changed was his love for the Raveneaus. He had felt like their son before, and though the charade had ended, reality was better.

"Oh, Mama," Lindsay whispered huskily, "I am so happy!"

"I know you are, darling, and we're happy for you. I'm so glad everything worked out. I was worried sick while you were away, but—"

"Now Ryan can do the worrying," Raveneau interjected wryly, grinning at his son-in-law.

"She's just taken a vow to obey me!" Ryan laughed. "Didn't you hear her?"

"I don't remember saying that," Lindsay teased. "I think you must have dreamed it, dear husband."

"Well, I can promise you one thing, son. You'll never be bored," Andre assured him. "Her mother continues to surprise me."

Dean Jackson came up then to offer his congratulations and to greet the Raveneaus. Embracing Lindsay, he caught the wink she sent him and smiled. Although the newlyweds planned to return to America when the war ended, Lindsay had confided to him that Ryan was talking about settling down at Oxford when they began to raise a family.

Servants appeared from Christ Church to serve champagne, and toasts were made by Blake, Raveneau, Dean Jackson, and, finally, Dudley Fanshawe, who was there in the company of Lady Emma Thorneycroft.

"I would like to propose a toast to the bride," he announced, smiling rather wistfully at Lindsay. "A most singular female! You're a fortunate man, Coleraine."

"I'm aware of that." Ryan nodded, trying not to smile. It wasn't fair of him to think back to all the times he'd played Fanshawe for a fool; after all, Dudley must have been humiliated himself once he learned the truth of Ryan's identity, and yet he'd had the courage to come to the wedding.

So had Hester. Clad in a simple gown trimmed with black mourning, she stood off to one side with her children. Although Amanda was blessed with raven curls and blue eyes, the effect was lessened by her inheritance of Chadwick's features. Six-year-old George was a replica of Francis in every respect. Only Maryann, at two, showed the promise of her mother's beauty. Mouette had drifted over to speak to Lady Chadwick. Watching them, Ryan felt a pang of sympathy. These women were the victims of their husbands' bad judgment and flawed characters. What would become of them?

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" he murmured to Lindsay, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Beau Brummell.

Following his gaze to Mouette and Hester, she nodded and kissed his cheek. Ryan procured two glasses of champagne from a passing steward and brought them over to the ladies.

At close range, he was struck by the melancholy in their eyes. "It was kind of both of you to come," Ryan said as they accepted the glasses and drank. "Lindsay and I both are grateful. And Hester, I must thank you again for the conversation we shared last month. It was very courageous of you."

"Well," she said with a sigh, "I had to do what was right. Mouette and I have seen quite a bit of each other these past weeks, and we agree that it was best that the situation was resolved before it went any further. I'm still numb when I think of Francis..."

"I'm sorry, Hester. But I know that you'll go on to build a new life for yourself and your children."

She gave him a sad smile. "At least you stopped Francis and Harry before they were able to turn over those stolen charts."

Nodding, Ryan replied, "The war will be played out fairly, and I suspect that peace will come before long."

Charles and Anthony Brandreth had come to hold their mother's hands and Ryan bent to pat their heads. Harry was in prison for the attempted murder of Andre Raveneau and would likely be hanged. "Mouette, I am truly your brother now. What plans have you?"

"My marriage is over. The boys and I are going to stay at Grosvenor Square with Mama and Papa, and then we'll return to America with them. Mama tells me it will get easier." She began to weep. "Each time I remember that I explained about Papa's charts to Harry I am overcome with remorse. If Papa had died—"

"You must not blame yourself, Mouette," he said with conviction and embraced her. "You acted innocently and Andre is well. Who knows? Perhaps if Harry hadn't kidnapped your father, the adventure would have ended less successfully. Now we all must put it behind us and look to the future."

Coleraine kissed her cheek, then turned to meet Hester's emerald eyes. They were crowded with bittersweet emotions, but she blinked back the first threat of tears. "You know, my dear, that if you should need help—"

"I know," she whispered. "And Ryan, I wish you and Lindsay only the best. I mean that sincerely."

He touched sun-darkened fingers to her cheek and smiled. Just then a voice spoke from behind him.

"Ryan, everything is ready." It was Blake.

"Where are you taking my sister for her wedding trip?" Mouette inquired.

"Paris—eventually," he replied, looking a trifle bemused. "Lindsay, who once declared that she never wanted to leave Pettipauge, Connecticut, now longs to travel everywhere!" Ryan looked back to find his brother staring at Hester, who had lowered her eyes shyly.

"Blake?" His mouth quirked in amusement. It began to look as if he wouldn't become marquess of Clifden for a very long time, and that was fine with him. "You were saying?"

The older man blinked. "Oh! Well, it's time. They're waiting on the south side of the meadow beyond those oak trees."

Together they walked back to join Lindsay, who was accepting congratulations from Lord Alvaney and several of the patronesses of Almack's. "You didn't have to do this, you know," Ryan murmured.

"Nonsense!" said Blake. "I'd move heaven and earth if it would please Lindsay. She's brought me back to life, you know. Both of you have!"

"Well, we mustn't spoil her too outrageously." Coleraine laughed then and added, "Oh, why not? She's irresistible."

Joining Lindsay, he indulged himself in a delicious kiss. "How are you, Mrs. Coleraine?"

"Ecstatic!" She beamed at their guests.

Ryan greeted as many people as he was able to, while Mouette brought Hester over to speak to Lindsay; then, he finally whispered to his bride, "It's time for us to go."

"Now? You've been very secretive about this, you know. Where are we going?" Her eyes twinkled with excitement.

"It's a surprise. A present from Blake, as a matter of fact. Come along."

Taking her hand, Ryan led her across Christ Church meadow. Blake Coleraine, the Raveneau family, and the curious wedding guests followed. Through a screen of ancient oaks, Lindsay saw a huge, striped, swelling mass of color covering the grass beyond. It grew mysteriously as they drew nearer until it left the ground and was higher than the trees.