sure you’d slipped past while she was in the loo. Poor woman was completely distraught.”

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Lucia asked in a small voice.

Corbett laughed softly. “Oh, I think she will. Particularly since the subterfuge was done on my behalf.”

“It was. Oh, Corbett, I’m so sorry about Edward. When did you know? And how did you figure it out?”

He was silent for a moment, staring up at the stars. Then he drew a breath that pushed against the lingering ache in his ribs and the newer, sharper one in his heart. “Once I forced myself to look at it honestly, it was…” He wouldn’t say easy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had anything harder to do in his life. “It was a matter of character-or the lack of it, I suppose. Quite simply, Edward is the only one of you three who’s capable of doing such a thing. I think some part of me knew that, just didn’t want to believe it. He always was spoiled-had a habit of living beyond his means-and his capabilities. He was the firstborn, the light of our parents’ eyes. They’d feared they’d never have kids, you see, and he was their miracle child. Never had to excel, or even try very hard at anything. They treated him like the royal heir no matter what he did. I was rather an afterthought, I think…”

“But…you outdid him in every way. I can’t imagine-”

He hugged her closer to silence her, so her next question came muffled and hesitant. “Corbett…what-what will you do about Troy? Now that Cassandra and her thugs have been arrested, what’s going to become of him?”

He stirred restlessly, but the knot in his chest stayed where it was. “I called in a few markers. But he’s done some terrible things, Lu. How much was his mother’s influence and how much his true character-who knows? But once he’s out of rehab he’s going to prison, there’s no way around that, I’m afraid. One good thing-right now he’s so angry with Cassandra for lying to him all this time, he may be ready to hear my side of things. Remains to be seen, I guess. He’s got a long, hard road to travel.”

“He’ll make it,” Lucia murmured. “He’s got you.”

“Yes, that he does.” He lifted his head to look down at her, and his heart felt as though it had taken up a new position in his throat. “And you? Do we-my son and I-do we have you, as well?” She gazed up at him without speaking. He tried to smile…frowned instead, his breathing, even his heartbeat suspended. “I could use a partner. Particularly now that Adam’s decided to go back to Australia.”

Smiling to herself in the darkness, Lucia felt overwhelmed with tenderness-not for the powerful, all but invincible leader and teacher she’d always been in awe of, not even for the incredibly skilled and sensitive lover newly met, who turned her bones to warm honey with a touch. But tenderness…for the gentle and vulnerable soul she was only just coming to know. The one who needed her.

She gave a little snort and shifted away from him. “Not interested.”

He thought for a moment. “Okay…what about wife? As it happens, that position is open, as well.”

She turned back to him, eyes narrowed and thoughtful. “Well…that sounds a bit more interesting. Does this… position come with benefits?”

“Not very many, I’m afraid,” he said somberly. “Just certain…uh, bedroom privileges, and my complete and undying love and utter devotion for the rest of my life.

“That’ll do,” she said softly.

He leaned down and kissed her a long, lovely time, then leaned back with a sigh. “Plus,” he said, nudging her head with his chin, “you get to sleep every night under the stars.”

“Yes.” Her whispered voice was slurred with tears, but she didn’t care if he knew. She had nothing to hide from him, not anymore.

They lay in silence, watching the stars together. Until Lucia tensed suddenly and lifted her head.

“What’s that? I swear…I hear…bells. Church bells.”

After a moment he heard it, too. He lifted his head to look at the clock on the nightstand. “Midnight. Do you suppose…” He lay back, turned to look at her and they said it together.

“It’s Christmas!” They touched their smiles together.

“Merry Christmas, my-”

“-edesem,” she finished for him.

He smiled and kissed her again. “Merry Christmas…edesem. My sweet…”

KATHLEEN CREIGHTON

***
Вы читаете Lazlo’s Last Stand
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