Page 171 of The Ladies Least Likely

“And then Dietz will kill you, and then himself, and the field will look like the end of Hamlet ,” Harriette said impatiently.

“Decide, Franz. A life as a ducal steward in Lowenburg, with Dietz? Or a ducal life of living hell with me, for if you force me to wed you and do not kill me after, I will make your life a torment. I will send Dietz away, and I will tell everyone that—” She stepped close and whispered in his ear.

Franz recoiled, his whole body taking the blow. “You would not dare. ”

“I would. And you know what the law says. ‘Tis is a capital crime here, and I suspect in Prussia as well,” she rapped out.

His eyes went to Dietz and for a moment she saw the soft part of her cousin’s heart, beneath the sneering arrogance and the long-held resentment. He wavered, but with his beloved watching him with a burning face, he did not waver long.

“Very well, M?uschen ,” he said, looking Harriette in the eye. “I accept your terms. If —” he held up a hand “—you are right that I might live in the palace and govern Lowenburg, and Dietz stays with me, and you will protect us from all accusations.”

“I will, if you govern Lowenburg exactly as I instruct,” she answered. “I will not have it be a backwater of peasants who are taken advantage of by others. I want my people— our people—to have every opportunity.”

Franz handed her the pistol. She returned it to Abassi, who wiped off the fingerprints with a cloth and closed the case with a snap.

“I say, that seems a right way to settle the business,” the draper said cheerfully. “Well done, old man, you’ve escaped with your skin!” He clapped Ren on the back. Ren staggered and leaned on his cane. “What’s usually done after these things, then? I confess this is my first affair of honor.”

Harriette’s whole body went limp with relief. Ren’s arms closed about her, and she leaned against him gratefully.

“De Countess of Calenberg invites everyone back to Charles Street for breakfast,” Abassi announced. He pointed at Franz’s second. “Except you. You go home.”

The man shrugged and ambled off. The others fell to making plans for transportation. Harriette turned and looked into Ren’s glowing blue eyes.

“You won’t be shot today,” she said gratefully.

“And neither will you, I’m glad to see.”

“Will you come to Aunt’s with us?”

“Of course.” The golden glints shone in his eyes. A part of her brain wondered if she ought to add those to his portrait. The rest of her simply stared wordlessly at him.

“We have much to discuss,” he said softly.

She nodded, wishing she could stay in his arms forever. “And I need a wash. I don’t remember it, but I believe I spent most of last night unconscious in a strange bed that was probably filled with vermin.”

Everyone sat in the dining parlor at Charles Street: the Countess of Calenberg, Darci, Melike, Natalya, Princess—who looked to be wearing her gown from the evening before—Sorcha with Chima, whom she had taken under her wing, and Amalie, who sprang up with a glad cry when Ren walked through the door.

Unabashedly she hugged him, the muff on her left arm almost covering his back.

“You’re alive! I knew Harriette would save you.” She beamed.

Harriette gaped at the woman sitting next to her aunt on the sofa. “Lady B-B-Bessington?”

“Good morning, Duchess,” her ladyship said with a smile.

“I came to meet your formidable aunt and talk with her about a little society I belong to which may interest her. I also intend to inquire if you are available to do a series of paintings for my London house. It’s been an age since our lordship and I have had a family sitting done, and we would like portraits of each of our children. ” She sipped her tea.

Harriette stared at her in silence, numbers swirling in her head.

Lady Bessington had several children. With a commission like this, Harriette’s financial woes were solved.

And the Bessingtons were a notoriously handsome family, save for the overlarge nose that Lord Bessington had bequeathed to all his progeny.

But she could correct that on canvas. And with Lady Bessington as her patroness, perhaps Angelica Kaufman would even recommend one of Harriette’s paintings to be displayed at the Royal Academy.

Harriette clasped her hands together. “I would adore the opportunity, your ladyship. I am very available.”

“Franz Karl did not return with you?” Aunt Calenberg observed.

“No, he and Dietz returned to their hotel. They plan to return to Lowenburg posthaste. I believe there is some straightening of affairs that is called for before I arrive to take things in hand, which I warned him I have intended to do.”

“But you will not marry him.”

“No, I will not.”

Her aunt smiled. “I wondered when you would come to your senses.”

“Aren’t you ashamed of me?” Harriette declined the tea her aunt poured. She needed to speak with Ren.

Aunt raised her brows. “That you have chosen your own path and remained true to your heart? I admit it is unprecedented for our family, but I sense times are changing. Someday it will not seem strange to marry for love.” Her gaze drifted over Renwick, who stood quietly behind Harriette, leaning on his cane.

Harriette left the others listening intently as Abassi, Jock, and Beater, all accepting the tea and treats pressed upon them, regaled the girls with a dramatic retelling of Harriette’s actions on the field of honor. She took Ren’s hand and led him to her studio.

His portrait had been taken from its leather case and unrolled, and the canvas was clipped to her easel. Harriette looked at it with pride. She’d captured his noble bearing, that look of wistfulness and resolve upon his face, and the colors were vibrant and fresh.

“I think I will put a library behind you,” she said. “The gentleman at his books.”

He ran a gentle hand over her arm. “I look forward to the next racy sketch you want to do.”

She turned to face him. “Ren, I know you can’t?—”

“Marry me,” he said, capturing her eyes with his earnest gaze.

Her breath left her for a moment. “Indeed. I cannot?—”

“You can. If you wish to.”

“But don’t you need?—”

“Rhette.” He pulled free a coil of her hair and ran the dusty-red curl through his fingers. “I need you. I don’t want anyone else. I already told you that.”

“But I wish to paint. I am a terrible housekeeper. I shall have to travel to Lowenburg frequently. I want to be a good duchess and look after my lands.”

Ren nodded. “I can afford housekeepers. And stewards and maids and whoever else you wish to attend to domestic tasks. I love your painting. And I delight in travel abroad. Perhaps we can bring Amalie.”

She caught her breath. The morning light slanted through the window, falling on the perfect line of his cheek, playing in the blue of his eyes. “I never thought I wanted children,” she whispered. “Until I imagined having children with you.”

A shadow passed through his eyes. “I suppose you need heirs for Lowenburg. My mother will expect them for the Renwick titles and estates. But Rhette—you have seen me, and Amalie. I don’t know what I’ll do if I pass this curse on to my children.”

“It is either an accident of birth or what God intended,” Harriette whispered. She placed her hand again on his chest, feeling the firm, fast beat of his heart. “In either event, we will love every child. Every life will be a gift to us, no matter what shape it comes in.”

“You are not afraid of my taint?” He slipped a hand around her back, then, setting his cane against her easel, slipped his other arm around her as well. Harriette inhaled his scent of lemon and fresh air and man.

“You are not ashamed of my tatterdemalion ways?”

“I quite like them. They’re the first thing I loved about you, you know.”

She slipped her hands up his neck to cup his cheeks. “What a relief you will finally marry me. I’ve loved you for half my life, milord Renwick.”

“And I, my dear Rhette, shall love you for the rest of mine.”

He kissed her, and the rest of the world fell away. She let it go. All she needed was him.