“It sounds very crowded. I hope we don’t have to invite both of them into our marital bed?”
“Jordan, I mean-” She stopped as she saw the smile that lit his face.
“But in other circumstances it seems a good plan.” He knelt on the cushions at the foot of the altar. “My dear love, I appreciate the gentle way in which you’re trying to tell me I must share you, but it really isn’t necessary. I’m sure that will be a constant battle between us, but not where Alex is concerned. I accept that he’s part of you.” His brows lifted. “Now, may we proceed with the wedding?”
Yes, there would always be battles and challenges in the life before them. They would both be changing and working, and because of their natures, they were bound to be constantly in conflict.
But there would also be love and loyalty and building together. They would leave their mark on life as she had left her mark on Cambaron.
She could hardly wait for it all to begin.
She smiled eagerly as she reached out and took his hands in her own. “Yes, I’m ready now.”
EPILOGUE
After a horrendous trek through Russia and battle losses mounting to the thousands, Napoleon reached the gates of Moscow. General Miloradovich, head of the Moscow garrison, asked for a cease-fire while he led his men out of the city. His request was granted. Napoleon moved into a city that appeared almost completely deserted, fully expecting Czar Alexander to sue for peace.
Later that evening Moscow was set ablaze.
Napoleon arrested four hundred incendiaries who declared they had set the fires on the orders of the director of police. Before the fires were put out, over two thirds of the city and most of the essential supplies stored there had been destroyed.
In the Kremlin Napoleon waited in vain for over a month; Czar Alexander did not sue for peace. The emperor finally departed Moscow to search out provisions at Kaluga, ninety miles to the north. That march started a nightmare retreat through a barren, frozen land.
It was the beginning of the end for Napoleon Bonaparte.
He’s back in Paris!” The ravin strode into Jordan’s study and waved in Jordan’s face the letter she had just received. “But it is not the Paris he left. Napoleon’s empire is crumbling, the French have lost faith in their great hero.”
“It is about time,” Gregor murmured.
Jordan scanned the letter, and a smile lit his face. “That means the allies will be gathering for the kill.” He rose to his feet and moved toward the door. “Gregor, send a message to have them ready the
“Notre Dame is in Paris,” Gregor murmured.
Jordan understood at once. He threw back his head and laughed. “Excellent. Marianna would lead a charge against Napoleon herself, if it meant she would be permitted to see the Rose Window at Notre Dame.”
“You are really leaving?” the ravin asked, startled.
“Of course.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “And so should you, if you wish to protect Kazan. Once Napoleon surrenders, every country in Europe will be scrambling to grab territory for itself.”
“No one will be permitted to snatch Kazan,” she said fiercely.
“Then you’d better be there to prevent it, Mother,” he said as he left the study.
He had spoken abstractedly, his thoughts on the coming victory. He did not even realize what he had called her.
“Mother,” she whispered.
“You have made great strides during these last months,” Gregor said behind her. “It was bound to bear fruit. Go with him now, and the final bonding will occur. Stay and it may take much longer.”
“Are you going with him?”
“No.”
She had known that would be his answer as she had known this moment would come. She had been prepared for it since the wedding those many months ago.
“Kazan needs my help.”
“You have a son to protect Kazan. Do you doubt that he and Marianna won’t be able to hold their own with the rulers of Europe?”
“No, but this is not a fair test.”
“It is not a test. It is a choice.”
She turned to look at him. Scarred and beautiful. Relentless and kind. Her lover who was not her lover.
But not for very much longer.
She walked toward him. “I love you,
“I know.” His gaze searched her face. “But do you choose me?”
“You ask a great deal, and you may not like what you get. You know how possessive both Jordan and I can be. If I choose you, it is forever. I would never let you go. I will treasure and smother you. I will give a bag of gold for the head of anyone who so much as bruises your fingertip.”
He chuckled. “Then I must be very careful not to shake hands with anyone of even moderate strength.”
“I’m not joking. I’m giving you warning.”
“I believe I could survive.” His smile faded. “Do you choose me, Ana?”
She did not want him to look this grave. She had caused him too much worry in the past, and now she wanted only smiles and joy for him. “Oh yes, I choose you. In all ways. In all things.” A brilliant smile lit her face as she came into his arms and nestled there. She felt right and free and as wrapped in splendor as one of Marianna’s stained-glass windows. “With all my heart.”
About the Author
IRIS JOHANSEN, who has more than twenty-seven million copies of her books in print, has won many awards for her achievements in writing. The bestselling author of
