This payment hereby honors and discharges all debts owed by the Dalsky family to be paid here in full on behalf of Princess Svetlana MacCallan, Marchioness of Tarltan.
He signed his name at the bottom, relishing the weight of his full title for once.
There. The whole sordid deed was done. He’d have the money delivered to the White Bear first thing in the morning, and then he could begin arrangements for Svetlana and her family to travel to Thornhill. They would be safe at last on his family’s Scottish estate.
Hopefully soon the war would end and he could join them. Maybe start a new medical practice out of Glasgow. He and Svetlana would have to find themselves a new home, one with a large garden for her to plant roses in and for children to play in. He stopped himself at the fanciful dream. He’d promised her this was a marriage in name and appearance only. Yet in time he hoped it would become more. Much more.
Occupying himself for another hour, Wynn finally made his way up the winding staircase to the second-floor landing and knocked on Marina’s door.
Mrs. Varjensky bustled out carrying an empty bowl of soup. She said something and pulled his head down to plant two squishy kisses on both his cheeks. “Golubchik.”
Wynn kissed her back. “Good night, babushka.”
Giggling like a little girl, the old woman clomped down the stairs. Wynn stepped into the room and took quick note of his patient now turned sister-in-law.
“How are you this evening, Marina?”
“Well, thank you.” Marina settled against a fluffy pillow in the oversize bed. “I’m only sorry to have missed the ceremony. But the bride should not have to worry about a fainting sister.”
“The important thing is you’re improving.” He moved closer to the bed. No sweating, clear eyes, pale cheeks, and full breaths. “A few days more and you might be able to move around a bit.”
“I couldn’t do it without Mrs. Varjensky’s nursing. Svetka tries, but she frets too much.” She yawned. “I know you’ll be good to her. She doesn’t think so, but she needs someone to take care of her. Good night. Brother.”
Wynn had moved to the door but stopped at her words. Could he live up to them? He was going to try. “Good night.”
Ascending to the third floor, which was designed as master and mistress suites with a shared common space between them, Wynn hovered outside his door. Should he change and then go see Svetlana? No. She would get the wrong impression if he appeared at her door in pajamas. He could knock on the door of their shared common room. No. That might appear too casual. Before he lost his nerve, he walked down to her door and knocked.
After several long seconds he was met with an, “Enter.”
The room hadn’t changed since he was a boy and his mother ruled as Duchess of Kilbride. Soft lavenders and creams, pillows on every available surface, and silver fixtures that reflected the glow of candlelight. The botany book he’d given Svetlana lay open on the small table next to the bed. To what page he could not see from where he stood in the doorway.
Svetlana turned from where she stood at the window. She’d changed from her wedding attire into a billowy dressing gown complete with out-of-date mutton chop sleeves. To his disappointment her hair remained pinned up. What had he expected? For it to be flowing intimately loose down her back?
He could hope.
She tugged the belt tighter about her waist. “The maid is soaking your mother’s dress. She believes the wine will not stain.”
“Mother hasn’t worn these clothes in over twenty years. I doubt she remembers they’re here. She’d be glad to know they came to good use, though I wish you could have worn the wedding dress you wanted.”
“This was not a usual wedding. I could not have expected anything I wanted.” Color bled to her cheeks. “Forgive me. That is not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant, and you’re right. It wasn’t the wedding I wanted either, but it’s done now.”
“Yes, it’s done now.”
They stood on opposite sides of the room, but the space between them constricted to within the stroke of a single heartbeat. She was wreathed in golden light, illuminating beauty of another world. But she wasn’t of another world. She was here, with him. Claiming his name, and the knowledge of it filled him with awed pride.
She fiddled again with the knotted sash at her waist, breaking the moment. Nervous.
“Won’t you have a seat?”
Eager to put her at ease, he chose the most uncomfortable chair in the room that forced him to sit erect. No draping against pillows or velvet settees.
“Marina looks better this evening. I imagine she should be strong enough to take small strolls around the back garden in a few days.”
“I missed having her at the ceremony today, but I’m grateful you allowed her to come downstairs for the feast. Important moments should be shared with one’s sister.”
“I wish I could have brought her to the church, if only to make you happy.”
“I know.”
He shifted against the chair’s hard back. “I’ve written a cheque to be delivered to Sheremetev in the morning. He has no further reason to pursue the debt.”
“What of his threat about the Bolsheviks? He’s not a man to allow a slight to pass unheeded.” She jerked on the sash, creating another knot. “I would rather face the Reds than marry him.”
“You married me instead.”
Her hands stilled as her eyes flickered to his. “Yes, I did.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees in an attempt to appear nonchalant. He felt anything but on this, their wedding night. “As your husband I’m getting you out of France as soon as possible. You and your family will be safe enough on my family’s estate in Scotland.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“As long as this war rages and the injured are brought in, my duties remain here. I will come to you as soon as possible.”
“What will keep Sheremetev from taking out his revenge on you? The danger you have put yourself in because of me—”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“I wasn’t your wife three days ago when you proposed and inadvertently threw yourself into the line of fire.”
“Hardly inadvertently. I knew from the first moment that any relationship with you would be difficult. You don’t make things easy on a man.”
Her eyebrow arched. “You claimed to be a man who appreciates a challenge.”
He smiled. “True, but sometimes a little peace and quiet can be nice too.”
“I seem to have brought anything but peace and quiet to you. You would have been better never having met me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“No? I’ve offered you nothing in this arrangement. Fake though it is, what good will our union do for you?”
He locked his fingers together as the conversation veered into territory he wasn’t ready to dissect. “You’ve asked me that before.”
“And you gave me a doctor’s answer. Because I needed help. Any number of your patients can say the same thing, but you didn’t marry any of them.”
They’re not as beautiful as you. Nor as fascinating or intellectually stimulating. You alone I wish to know all of me. He could tell her none of that. She’d run out the front door and never look back, and he’d never have the opportunity to woo her properly.
“As I told you the night I proposed, you may think of this as a business transaction offered to you because it was the right thing to do. I can offer you a good position in society where you will lack for nothing and enjoy the comforts to which you are accustomed. And despite your perseverance to convince me otherwise, I enjoy your company and wish to continue doing so.”
“My part in this transaction is companionship?”
“Yes.”
She watched him, waiting to cut apart his answers to find the true meaning behind his words. She’d lived in a shroud of secrecy for too long. Was it any wonder she craved the truth? He wanted her to count on him for that.
“Because I’m drawn to you.”
A simple confession, yet he could not mean it more.
She turned away and faced the window. Whatever response he was hoping for, cold dismissal wasn’t it.
He stood. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”
“You haven’t.” She turned back to face him. Her cool reserve dropped as faint pink dusted her cheeks. “In Russia we are not accustomed to sharing such straightforward sentiments. Forgive me if I do not always know how to respond.”
“Honesty. That’s all I ask. In return I’ll be honest with you.”
She nodded. “Honesty between us always.”
Her simple wedding band winked in the candlelight. He longed to kiss it as affirmation of the vows he’d made to honor and protect her. He longed to kiss the tender inside of her wrist, trailing kisses up her arm and over the curve of her shoulder. He longed to press his lips to her throat, feeling her pulse increase as he moved to her jaw and finally to her lips. More than anything he longed to kiss her. His wife. He had every right to, but he wouldn’t violate the tenuous trust between them. He would wait for her.
“Good night, Svetlana.” Gathering his self-control, he crossed to the door.
“Wynn.” He stopped and turned back. She didn’t smile often enough, but now she did. And she was smiling at him. “Thank you.”
Nodding, he stepped into the hallway and closed the door softly behind him, heart nearly beating out of his chest. His wife might like him after all. In the books, November the tenth would go down as the best day of his life.