“I paid him to do that,” Rosslyn said smugly.
Kit’s jaw tensed. No wonder Washburn had been able to throw around so much money.
“Guards!” Wren called.
Leaning heavily on his ribbon-topped walking stick, Rosslyn glared at Kit. A wild sheen in his eyes said he wasn’t all there. “Your loss, my gain,” he growled. “At last I’ve proven myself better than you.” When a red-coated guard stepped up to restrain him, he twisted from the man’s grip. “All those years in school, no matter how well I did, that upstart Kit Martyn always did better—”
He was cut off when a second guard grabbed him and the two began dragging him away. Rosslyn kicked, drawing every gaze in the room with his shouted curses, his useless walking stick banging along the planked wood floor.
Long after everyone else had returned to their revelry, Kit stared after him. “I always thought we were friends,” he murmured, stunned.
Rose squeezed his hand. “He never seemed very friendly.”
He blinked and looked at her. “Acquaintances, then. Perhaps casual ones. But there was never any animosity.”
“On your part.”
Wren took Kit’s empty glass from his hand and shoved a full one into it. “Drink up. I’ll be back.”
Numbly, Kit followed his advice, taking it a step further by making his way over to a delicate gilt chair and lowering himself gingerly onto it. Learning that childhood competition could lead to treachery all these years later was a shock he was finding hard to absorb.
Rose followed and stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder. “He’s talking to King Charles.”
“Rosslyn?”
“No, Wren. The two of them are making their way outside. Out the same way Rosslyn was taken.”
Kit rose to see, but the men had already exited the building. Feeling drained, he turned to his wife. “Let’s leave. I’ve had enough. We can get a good night’s sleep before we start our journey tomorrow.”
“Wren said he’d be back.” She peered over Kit’s shoulder. “Look, he’s coming now. With Charles.”
Kit drained his glass and set it down as the men approached. Rose took his arm, a silent show of support. The king wasted no time with greetings. “Martyn. I’ve just learned that in the face of betrayal, you put Barbara’s life, and those of our children, before your own interests. I’m very grateful.”
Kit’s gaze flicked to Wren. “I told him,” the older man admitted.
“I can see that.” Kit looked back to Charles. “The building was flawed. I did only what needed to be done. Any other man would do the same.”
“Not any,” Charles disagreed. “Only the sort of man I was searching for to appoint Deputy Surveyor. I believe I’ve found him.”
A tiny gasp escaped Rose’s lips, and her hand tightened on Kit’s arm. It took a moment for the king’s words to sink in before Kit swept him a deep bow. “My thanks, Your Majesty.” It had happened so fast, he could scarcely believe his old goal had been reached at last. “I shall endeavor to assure you chose the right man.”
“I expect no less.”
“There’s more,” Wren said.
Charles nodded. “I’ve stripped Gaylord Craig of his title and properties. I wish to grant them to you. You shall henceforth be known as the Earl of Rosslyn.”
Dumbfounded, Kit looked between the king and Wren. “It seems only fitting,” Wren said graciously.
Kit’s knees locked. He felt all the blood draining from his face.
“Sit down.” With a laugh, Rose pushed him back onto the chair.
Clearly enjoying his own magnanimity, Charles grinned. “I’ll accept your thanks later, Rosslyn.” Rosslyn. “My queen is awaiting a birthday toast.”
“Congratulations, my lord. My lady.” Wren bowed and walked off.
As Kit watched them both go, his world slowly stopped spinning and righted itself. Almost.
“Deputy Surveyor and an earldom,” he murmured. “Wren is Surveyor General and only a knight.”
Rose moved closer. “Wren didn’t save King Charles’s children’s lives.”
It still didn’t seem real. “You’re a countess now,” he told his wife. “Lady Rosslyn.”
There in front of all the court, she perched herself on his lap and toyed with his cravat, using it to pull him near for a quick kiss. “I don’t care,” she said gaily, adding “my lord” with an impish grin.
My lord. Two short words that meant so much. He kissed her again for good measure, feeling, at the moment, that she was the only familiar thing he had to cling to. “After all those weeks of putting up with that damned duke’s attentions, you cannot tell me you don’t care—”
“I don’t,” she repeated. “You’ve been vindicated, and we’re off to explore the world together, and that’s all that matters.”
That sounded wonderful, but too simple. A maid came by with more champagne, and he took a glass, still dazed. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly.
“Sure of what?”
“Anything. Where the Rosslyn lands are, for starters.”
“Good God,” she said with mock alarm, “I hope it’s not Northumberland.”
“And what it will take to care for them.”
“I can help you with that.” She looked both startled and pleased at that thought.
“And whether I can go off to explore the world when I’ve just been appointed Deputy Surveyor.”
Now genuine alarm widened her eyes. “You can go. We’re going. Tomorrow. The post will wait. It will be winter soon, anyway, too cold for building, and—”
“Very well, we’ll go. Before Charles has a chance to say otherwise.” It would be the first time in his life he acted irresponsibly, but devil take it if he and Rose didn’t deserve their dream of traveling. They could cut their holiday short, but they would go.
It felt damned strange to be putting the present before his future, but maybe it was about time.
As the courtiers raised their glasses all around him, toasting the queen, he blew out a breath and set Rose on her feet, then stood and raised his own. He was one of them now, and that felt damned strange, too.
But Rose was right. It didn’t really matter. They were together, and that was enough.
She smiled up at him, raising her face for a bubbly champagne kiss. His
