Natalya (25 page)

"Excuse me," she now heard herself saying instead, "but there is no reason for you to accompany me any farther, Grey. We can simply bid one another adieu here. I know that you have much more important matters to attend to, and I am perfectly capable of traveling the short distance to my parents' home unescorted."

"I won't hear of it," he said firmly. "All the arrangements are made. Surely you don't imagine that I would abandon you on the waterfront after all we've endured to come this far? I owe it to your uncle to see that you are safely returned to your parents."

She felt uncontrollably flustered. "But—really, there is no need—I mean, I insist!"

"No, I insist," Grey countered in steely tones. He then turned away, giving orders for Natalya's trunks and boxes to be transferred to the waiting post chaise.

Natalya saw that it was useless to argue with him. Jasper Speed was already guiding her down the gangway while the
Wild Rover's
crew gathered at the rail to call out their farewells. On the wharf, Natalya turned to look back at the ship, her cheeks pink with pleasure as she waved to the men. Grey came down the gangway then and caught her elbow.

"They'll miss you, but Fedbusk won't," he remarked. "He contends that it's bad luck to have a woman on board, not to mention the fact that you've transformed his disciplined crew into a mob of slobbering idiots."

Was that a note of admiration in his voice? A compliment hidden in his words? "Nonsense," she declared, slightly perplexed. "The crew were all perfect gentlemen."

"With the possible exception of their captain?"

Natalya glanced up in surprise but found that Grey was staring straight ahead, his expression only mildly sardonic. Then he was handing her into the carriage, next to Charlotte, while he and Jasper took the seats facing them. Inexplicably Natalya found herself staring at the long muscles in Grey's thighs and then at the lean, dark hands resting lightly upon them. She knew what the rest of his body looked like and remembered every hard curve; she could even close her eyes and recall the texture of the crisp black hair on his thighs and calves. She had touched him, caressed him, kissed his wonderful hands—palms, fingers, even the scar he had refused to discuss....

"Natalya?"

Her eyes flew up to meet his silvery gaze and she felt her cheeks burning. "Yes?"

"You'll have to tell the driver the name of your parents' estate. Did you say that it was north of Philadelphia?"

Natalya knew only that she had to separate herself from Grey St. James in order to regain her peace of mind, and the sooner the better. "There's no need to go all that way. My grandmother lives near here, on Third Street, between Spruce and Willing's Alley. I'd really rather stop there first. My grandfather died last year and I am anxious to see dear Grandmama." Seeing Grey's doubtful expression, she tried another tack. "Also, it is Sunday. My family will doubtless be at church, and invariably they go to Grandmama's afterward. I can return to Belle Maison with them."

Grey acceded with a shrug and gave the driver the address. As the carriage pulled away from the waterfront and into the pretty, orderly part of Philadelphia known as Society Hill, all its occupants were temporarily distracted by the new sights. The brick footpaths were teeming with people on their way to or from church. Many were Quakers, garbed in plain black and white, while others wore gowns and suits that would have blended perfectly in London society. Natalya felt a rush of pride as she surveyed the fine Georgian and Federal brick homes that lined the wide, poplar-shaded streets. She had nearly forgotten how neat Philadelphia was, its streets and squares laid out at exact right angles, completely unlike the winding mazes of Paris and London.

She felt odd, disjointed somehow, as she spotted familiar places that had been forgotten over the past six years. She scanned people's faces, wondering if she'd known them as children. They passed the Drinker House on Pine Street, and then Natalya glimpsed St. Peter's Episcopal Church on the corner of Third Street. They were turning north, but she leaned out the window, staring at the magnificent brick church where she had attended services for so many years.

Parishioners were gathered in clusters outside while others strolled away toward home. Church must be over, Natalya thought, and her heart began to pound at the thought of meeting her family. Would they all be at Grandmama's, as she had predicted? Suddenly the dear faces of her relatives filled her mind and she felt like a little girl again as she imagined embracing her parents.

Her grandparents' home came into view on the left side of Third Street, completely and reassuringly unchanged. The other occupants of the post chaise were forgotten as they drew up in front.

"This is the Beauvisage home," the driver said.

Grey paid him and asked him to wait, impressed by the simple grandeur of the three-story Georgian mansion with its white shutters. There were white marble keystones above each window and a fanlight over the front door, which was supported by Doric columns on either side.

Natalya stepped out onto the footpath without a word, walked up to the house, and knocked at the paneled door. Grey followed after telling Speed and Charlotte to wait in the carriage. He stayed a few steps behind Natalya as she waited for the door to open. Remembering his own homecoming, he half expected someone she didn't know to appear and tell her that the house had changed hands.

"Yes?" The door swung back to reveal an exquisite, tiny old woman. Her white hair was pinned up neatly, and she wore an older-style gown of dark blue silk edged with white pleated lace. Pearls and diamonds sparkled at her throat and ears, and she wore a diamond ring on her wedding finger. Her expression was alert and gracious; behind tiny golden spectacles, emerald green eyes twinkled, then widened. Grey, expecting a servant, was taken by surprise.

"Grandmama..." Natalya whispered the name in a voice thick with tears. "I am home."

"I thought I was dreaming," the old woman murmured. Her arms opened, and her granddaughter rushed into them, weeping. "How I have missed you, dearest!"

"Oh, Grandmama, when I heard about Grandpapa I thought my heart would break, and I wanted more than anything in the world to come home and be with you. I am so sorry!"

Antonia Beauvisage drew back, gazing at Natalya's face and smiling. "It was time for Jean-Philippe to go, my dear, and we were prepared to be parted. Your grandpapa was nearly ninety. It was becoming difficult for him to walk, and there was so much that he could no longer enjoy in life. He is with God now, and I have no regrets." She paused. "Your mother and father and sister are in the garden. We've just come from church. I hope Caro doesn't faint when she sees you; do you know, just this morning she told me that she misses you so much, she has been trying to persuade your father to take her to Europe. You must go to her—but first tell me how you have accomplished this miracle! These days sea travel is far too perilous for a young woman traveling alone."

Suddenly Natalya remembered Grey. "Uncle Nicky enlisted the aid of an Englishman who had been a French prisoner of war to help me leave France. Grandmama, I would like you to meet Grey St. James, who brought me to London and then on to Philadelphia." She gestured for Grey to come forward, conscious of her grandmother's curious gaze.
 

Grey bowed over the old woman's tiny hand and kissed it. "It is a great honor to meet you, Mrs. Beauvisage."

"You must call me Antonia. How can we thank you, sir, for delivering our beloved Talya to us? This is truly a day for celebration."

Natalya interceded. "I hope you'll excuse Mr. St. James, Grandmama. He only wanted to be certain that I had safely reached my family, and now there must be far more important matters for him to attend to."

"Oh, but everyone will want to meet you, sir," Antonia protested.

"I have no pressing business," he replied lightly. "I am at your disposal."

Natalya gave him a dark look, which he pretended not to notice. Just a few more minutes, she told herself. Still, she didn't want him to meet any more of her family; she didn't want Grey to seep into the new life she was beginning today. It would be easier to keep what the two of them had done together in a separate compartment in her heart if the people she loved in Philadelphia knew nothing about him except his name and what
she
chose to divulge.

"Mr. St. James is ever the gentleman, Grandmama, but we must not detain him for more than a few minutes," she said in a sweet voice. "His carriage is waiting outside, and there must be a great deal for him to do before his ship sails back to England."

"I plan to remain in Philadelphia for a short time," Grey interposed. "My crew needs a rest and so do I." He turned his back to Natalya's shocked stare and offered Antonia his arm. "Lead on to the garden, dear lady."

Antonia glanced back at her granddaughter. "Let us go ahead of you so that I can soften the shock."

Given her turmoil over Grey's refusal to exit her life, Natalya did an admirable job of overlooking his glaring presence in the midst of her long-awaited family reunion. She stood inside the glass doors that led outside and watched as Grandmama and Grey approached the distant figures of her parents and sister. The garden behind the Beauvisage home was part of a large enclave shared by several mansions. There were flagstone walkways lined with ribbon grass, sculpted boxwood hedges, and clusters of daffodils dancing above borders of grape hyacinths. Alec, Caro, and Kristin were standing near one of the brick walls, apparently surveying a new piece of statuary.

Natalya's heart began to hammer when she saw her mother and father turn toward the house as Grandmama approached. How well and wonderful they looked! A few words were spoken, then Antonia glanced back and nodded to her. She pushed open the door and stepped into the April sunlight, tears blurring her vision. It was as if she were five again, running to her parents after Etienne teased her or she took a tumble.

"Natalya!" Familiar arms were holding her fast, and she smelled the soft, fresh scent of her mother. They were the same size, and their tears mingled as they kissed; then Caro drew back for a long look. "I cannot believe it! It really is
you!
My dear, you'll never know how we've missed you!"

"Maman..." She smiled into her mother's warm golden-brown eyes. "I missed you, too. I had to come home!"

Then Alec was reaching for her, cradling her against him as he had all her life. "Darling Talya," he murmured. "Welcome home."

"Oh, Papa..." Tears of joy ran down her cheeks, and he produced a handkerchief.

"Your grandmother tells us that this man St. James brought you all the way from France," Alec said, glancing back toward Grey. "I owe him a proper thank-you."

Kristin appeared then, and Natalya's eyes widened in surprise when she discovered that her little sister was now taller than she. "Look at you, Krissie—you're a woman!" They hugged, and then she stepped back for another look. "And so beautiful! My goodness, you were still in the schoolroom when I left!"

Resplendent in her new morning gown of blue-and-white-striped muslin, its hem fetchingly ruffled, Kristin twirled in the sunlight. "Do you really think I look pretty? As pretty as the women in France and London?"

"Oh, certainly!" Natalya smiled with fond indulgence. "Now, when are you and Malcom getting married? I hope I'm not too late for the wedding."

Kristin made a moue. "I've broken the engagement. I want to be certain that, when I marry, I shall never regret it."

"That sounds very... prudent." She glanced toward their mother, who lifted her brows for an instant. "We have so much to talk about. I cannot tell you how anxious I am to see Belle Maison again, to have everything just as it was—" Natalya broke off when Grey and her father came up beside them.

Kristin was staring appreciatively at the Englishman. "I don't believe we've met, sir," she murmured.

"This is Grey St. James, Kristin," Alec said. "He is responsible for delivering your sister home from France, and, of course, we owe him a great debt of gratitude. Caro, I've invited Grey to come back with us for Natalya's welcome-home supper. I thought it would be a splendid opportunity for all of us to become better acquainted."

"By all means," Caro agreed, with a radiant smile.

"Oh, yes!" Kristin exclaimed.

Natalya stared in horror and said frantically, "But I'm certain Mr. St. James has better things to do and is probably too polite to say so. Really, Papa, you must not put him in so awkward a position. He's quite bored with this entire business, and—"

"Miss Beauvisage," Grey said coolly, "you couldn't be more wrong. I can think of nothing I would enjoy more than a day with your family, and I am delighted to accept this invitation. Unless, that is,
you
have some objection to my presence?"

Everyone's eyes were fixed on her. Blushing, trying to conceal her fury, Natalya managed to smile. "I? Object? How silly!"

Chapter 17

April 28, 1814