Lady Stanwick considered her for a tense moment, then nodded slowly. "But can you give it all up,

Your Highness?"

"Yes."

Sympathy showed in the older woman's eyes. "You will pay a dreadful price. I know, my dear; I

watched your aunt pay it. "She lived her life in quiet resignation. She retired from the world when she married Worthington, spending the rest of her days in that drafty old castle of hers. She scarcely left it at all, either before the earl's death or after. And when her daughter married, she lived there alone save for her stepson."

Lady Stanwick shook her head. "While Sophia never officially abdicated her title, she did so in her heart, and in many ways it destroyed her."

"But when Sophia gave up the life she knew, she was escaping. She was running away from danger and pain and despair." Tatiana leaned toward the other woman. "I am running toward the man I love and cherish with all my heart. Anything I give up for him is not a sacrifice; it is nothing more than a burden if it keeps us apart."

"It sounds so noble and selfless in theory. But can you really give up your title and family and country for my grandson?" Lady Stanwick settled back in her chair and studied her intently. "And can you live with yourself afterward?"

"Yes," Tatiana said without hesitation. "I have given this a great deal of thought for a very long time. In many ways I have no choice." She smiled ruefully. "I have tried, but I cannot live without him. I am well aware of all that I will lose, but it pales in comparison to what I will gain."

"Oh, dear." Lady Stanwick sighed. "You are very much in love. Such love ends as often in tragedy as it does in joy."

Tatiana laughed. "Well, then there is at least half a chance."

Lady Stanwick fell silent, her fingers plucking at a thread on the arm of the chair. "He loves you, you know."

"I am confident of it."

"A great deal, I suspect." She raised her gaze to meet Tatiana's. "So much so that he would be willing to accompany you back to Avalonia."

Tatiana shook her head. "I would never allow that."

"Never?"

"No," she said firmly. "I would never allow Matthew to be less than what he is. A mere husband rather than a man."

"I see." Lady Stanwick chose her words with care. "You would not allow him to give up his life for you, yet you believe he will permit you to give up your life for him?"

Tatiana lifted her chin. "I have no intention of asking his permission."

Lady Stanwick raised a brow. "I'm not sure if that calls for applause or censure."

"Perhaps"-Tatiana smiled-"what it really requires is prayer."

Tatiana leaned against the window frame in the rooms she and Matthew were to share and stared out into the night. Her chat with Lady Stanwick had given her a great deal to think about. Oh, not about relinquishing her title. She had wrestled with that dilemma some time ago. It was the other points Matthew's grandmother had made that gave her pause.

Would he indeed be willing to return to Avalonia with her? To live by her side in that odd position accorded to men who marry women of power? It scarcely mattered. Her jaw clenched. She would not allow it. She acknowledged that Matthew was not Phillipe and she had no doubt Matthew would manage to make a useful life for himself at court. But in spite of the strength of character he possessed, she was afraid of turning him into something less than what he was. Something less than the man she loved.

A lapdog.

And Lady Stanwick did not believe Matthew would accept her decision to give up her title. Not that Tatiana planned to either ask him or tell him until the deed was done.

It was a simple matter, contingent more upon the will of her father than anything else. He could well refuse to accept her abdication on paper, although in practice she had no intention of living the rest of her life in Avalonia. She could arrange everything when she returned home with the Heavens.

If she found the Heavens.

She blew a long, frustrated breath. No one Sophia had trusted had even heard of the Heavens. According to Alexei, Beaumont knew nothing of them either. It was unreasonable to expect that Sophia's daughter was any more knowledgeable than her grandson.

Valentina would use the loss of the jewels to foment unrest. Alexei had just managed to restore confidence in the throne and the House of Pruzinsky, but was it enough to deflect any new threat by their cousin?

And how could Tatiana abandon her country if that should happen?

"You were gone by the time I came back," Matthew said behind her. "I never did find that fan of hers."

"She already had it," Tatiana said absently. "It was tucked beneath the arm of the chair."

"I should have known." He enfolded her in his arms, pulled her back against him and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Are we looking at anything in particular?"

"Nothing." She sighed. "Everything."

"Everything?" Matthew shuddered, but his voice was light. "You make it sound so dire."

"Sometimes it feels dire."

"You're worried about finding those blasted jewels of yours, aren't you?" he said softly.

"Yes." It was not a complete lie. It was indeed one of the things she worried about.

"You will have the opportunity to talk to Sophia's daughter. An invitation arrived this afternoon for a reception she's giving in London to mark the marriage of her son and his betrothed."

"No doubt we have Her Grace to thank for that," Tatiana said wryly. "I fully expect she told the viscount everything."

"I wouldn't be surprised. She and my grandmother follow their own rules. Probably why they're friends." "That and blackmail." "It is a two-day drive back to London from here. We shall have to begin, again, first thing in the morning. Does it strike you this adventure of yours consists of nothing more than traveling from one end of England to the other?"

"It does seem that way."

"Although I suppose we are fortunate that my balloon was destroyed before I could try your Avalonian brandy as a source of fuel. We have more than enough for the journey."

She wrinkled her nose. "It is not very good, is it?"

"No, my love, it isn't." He paused for a moment. "But I suspect it is highly flammable."

She smiled and rested her head back against his chest, letting let his warmth soak into her.

"How bad will it be if your jewels aren't found?" he said quietly. "Your family has thwarted Valentina

before."

"And I have faith in the ability of my father and brother to do so again. But the absence of the Heavens gives her a powerful weapon."

"That's not all that's bothering you though, is it?"

She thought for a moment. "When I started this quest, the Heavens were an important symbol to my

people, of course, but they were a personal talisman for me as well. I thought"-she searched for the right words-"if I could return them to Avalonia I would earn the right to live as I chose because I had, in some measure, lived up to the expectations set for my life. By finding the Heavens I would somehow fulfill my obligations to my title and my heritage. I would have earned my freedom."

"Your freedom?"

"You could not possibly understand, Matthew. You are perhaps the freest, most unfettered man I have ever met." "You're just saying that because you like a man who teaches you to fly." His voice held a teasing note and she laughed in spite of herself. "That is it, of course. You know me far too well." "Not at all, Princess. I daresay you will always be able to surprise me." "And is that a good thing?" "I'm not entirely sure. Tatiana..." he hesitated, as if uncertain of his next words. "If you don't find the Heavens, will you claim that freedom you seek?" "The Heavens were a crutch. Nothing more than an excuse. A substitute, if you will, for courage. And yes." She twisted in his arms to face him. "I will claim that freedom."

His gaze searched hers. "Do not do anything in haste."

"Matthew." She gazed into his blue eyes and her melancholy lifted. He was her match. Her fate. She had found her way back into his life and his heart and she would not allow the Heavens or anything else on earth to pull them apart. "It has taken me more than fifteen long, lonely, disheartening months to know where my destiny lies and find the courage to claim it." She drew his lips down to hers. "I will not lose that courage again."

"Now, my love"-her words murmured against his lips-"once again, teach me to fly."

The return to London was uneventful. Stephen accompanied them. Tatiana slept. Upon their arrival, they moved into the sizable townhouse Matthew's brothers shared when their duties or interests took them to London. There was a distinctly male air about the place, and Tatiana suspected their grandmother rarely, if ever, visited. Indeed, the servants seemed rather surprised by Tatiana's presence.

Tatiana then paid a brief visit to Katerina. There had been no word from Dimitri or Avalonia and neither woman was certain if that was a blessing or a portent of disaster.

Tatiana should have gone to meet Sophia's daughter at once, but she could not bring herself to do so. She and Matthew were on a holiday of sorts and she hated to see it end. Whether Lady Beaumont knew about the jewels or not, Tatiana and Matthew's adventure would be over. She would have to return home to face her family and her future. The thought was at once exciting and terrifying. And nothing would ever be the same again.

She and Matthew relived their time together in Paris without the secrets that had separated them before. She learned of his childhood and his days at sea. He shared his thoughts and feelings about the past and, better, the future. She told him of her life before Phillipe and after. She talked of her country and her people and her private joys and fears. They spoke of books and art and they disagreed as often as not. And even their disputes were glorious and passionate and ended in each other's arms.

As much as she believed these days with him were but the beginning of their life together, she sensed an odd desperation in Matthew's manner and look and touch. It was vague and elusive, and when she tried to speak of it he laughed off her concerns and teased her about not enjoying each moment as it came.

He was, as always, a poor liar.

And she could not shake a terrible sense of foreboding.

Chapter 20.

"Now, this, Matthew, is indeed an adventure." Tatiana cast her gaze over the crowd milling through the elegant London townhouse.

"An adventure?" Matthew sipped his champagne. "Hardly. This is an obligatory social event of the kind I have been fortunate enough to avoid up until now. The room is stuffy, the men obviously bored and the ladies overly curious." He shook his head mournfully. "Apparently I have failed you, if you consider this to be the height of adventure."

"Nonsense," she said, still scanning the gathering. "I feel as though I were a spy or something equally exciting. Here under false pretenses. Using an assumed name." She flashed Matthew a smile. "Not that it is assumed, of course; it simply feels that way."

"Well, there is a world of difference between a royal princess and the mere wife of the youngest son of a marquess." His tone was dry and cynical, and she glanced at him.

He too studied the crowd, his expression cool, even uninterested. His tone was probably of no significance.

She turned her attention back to the crowd. Viscount Beaumont and his wife were easy to spot, although they seemed to have eyes only for each other. The depth of their feelings was obvious and her heart melted at the sight. She wondered if people would think the same of her and Matthew someday, if someday ever came. She noted the presence of the Duke and Duchess of Roxborough, the Marquess and Marchioness of Helmsley and others she had met at Effington Hall.

She and Matthew had presented their invitation upon their arrival, but had managed to avoid the receiving line. Tatiana wished to observe Sophia's daughter, the Dowager Viscountess Beaumont, Natasha, before approaching her.

At the moment, Lady Beaumont stood on the far side of the room, exchanging words with guests and surveying the scene with a satisfied smile. She was taller than Tatiana, with a graceful bearing, still-lovely face and figure and appeared considerably younger than her fifty-some years. It was obvious, even to the untrained eye, that this woman had the blood of royalty flowing in her veins.

Lady Beaumont's gaze drifted over the gathering, meeting Tatiana's briefly, then continuing. A scant second later, the lady's eyes widened and her gaze snapped back to Tatiana's. She stared for a shocked second, then a slow smile spread across her face. A smile of acknowledgment and welcome.

"Matthew," Tatiana said in an aside to her husband. "I am going to speak to Lady Beaumont."

"I'm going with you."

She shook her head. "It is not necessary."

"Are you mad?" He scoffed. "Necessary or not, you've dragged me across half of England. One way or another, this is the end of your search, and I have no intention of missing it."

"Matthew." Her voice was firm.

He was just as firm. "Don't bother to protest. I am your husband. Lord and master and all that."

"You can be so annoying," she muttered.

"It's one of my finest qualities." He plucked her empty glass from her hand and passed their glasses to a nearby footman, then took her elbow and steered her toward Lady Beaumont.

"I have the most horrid feeling of turmoil in my stomach," she said quietly.

"Nerves, my love." He glanced down at her. "A brandy would settle your stomach or at least provide false courage. Have you ever had brandy that wasn't made in Avalonia?"

"No, never. Brandy holds no particular appeal."

"I can see why."

They reached Lady Beaumont, but before they could say a word, the older woman grasped Tatiana's hands in hers and kissed her on both cheeks.

"My dear cousin, I would have known you anywhere." Her gaze skimmed over Tatiana's face. "The