"Yes, yes I am. You look wonderful and I love you and would like an answer to my question."
Her fan slid open and she began using it as it should be used by a young lady of quality with an eligible man of quality--and ones of dubious reputation--to tantalize, flirt, to promise but not promise, to give answers, or avoid them, to questions that were dangerous to acknowledge openly.
The fan fluttered. "I admire you greatly, Edward."
"No more than I admire you. But a yes or a no?"
The fan snapped shut. Then she smiled and opened a box on the bureau, handed him an envelope. It was addressed: Mrs. Tess Struan. "Please read the letter. I am sending it by Hoag to Hong Kong in answer to hers."
Her handwriting was neat: Dear Mrs. Struan, Thank you for your letter, and generosity.
I agree to everything you requested: I solemnly swear and agree freely to relinquish all and any claims to your son's estate, I agree never again to use the title Mrs.Struan, I agree I am Catholic and was never married according to my Church, I agree never to set foot in Hong Kong except for transshipping, or will ever try to contact you and any of your family, I agree to remove myself from these premises within the week, and accept, with sincere thanks, the offer of a trust of Two Thousand Guineas a year until I am dead.
The space for her signature was blank and then below it: Verified as a true signature by Sir William Aylesbury, Minister Japan, and another space for his signature and date.
Gornt looked up. "You can't mean this. This gives her everything."
"Didn't you advise me to accept her conditions?"
"Yes, but to compromise--to renegotiate."
"Ah, yes, I remembered that. If you agree I'll ask Sir William to witness it now, before you leave. Dr. Hoag has promised to take it tonight on your ship, so it will be there when you arrive."
"But surely you know this yields everything--how can I, or anyone negotiate for you?"
"There's a second page." She took it out of the box, her fan slid open and began to move.
Gently.
Again he concentrated. The writing was not so clear and here and there smudged--could those be tear stains, he asked himself?
Dear Mrs. Struan, for obvious reasons this part must be separate as it is just between us, and no concern of Sir William. Again I thank you for your generosity. The kind offer of a third thousand if I remarry, or marry as you would say, within a year, I cannot accept because I do not intend to remarry or marry whichever you consider correct ...
Again he looked up at her startled. "Is this my answer?"
The fan fluttered. "Finish it," she said.
Now his eyes flashed down the page: Before God, I cannot avoid the belief I was married, though freely relinquish any public and legal pretension to that state as above. I will not take another... I do not wish to hurt or offend you but to marry again... no. It is my intention as soon as possible to settle in London, I feel more English than French, my mother tongue English rather than French, my aunt was my real mother.
I will never use the Mrs. title as I have agreed but I cannot stop others here referring to me as such. Sir William will not accept Angelique, or Angelique Richaud but insists that I sign as Mrs. Angelique Struan, nee Richaud, to make the above binding, for, according to him, and his understanding of English law, that is presently my legal name until I remarry.
"Has he said that?" he asked sharply.
"No, but Mr. Skye says if asked, he would have to agree."
"Ah." Gornt nodded thoughtfully, gulped some wine and went on reading, slower and more carefully: Should any of the above be unsatisfactory, please draw up what you further require, give it to Mr. Gornt who tells me he is going to see you again, then to return here almost immediately, and I will sign it. I commend him to you, he was a very good friend to your son, and has been kind to me--he advised me to accept your kind conditions as Mr. Skye was against. Sincerely yours...
Angelique.
Gornt sat back, exhaled and stared at her, awed. "It's marvelous. Marvelous. You agree to everything but still hold the sword of Damocles over her."
The fan stopped. "How so?"
"You plan to live in London therefore under English law, a latent, obvious threat. Never once do you use "husband" but that threat is there, you put me squarely on center stage as friend to both sides and in a perfect negotiating position. And however devious she is, whatever she draws up for you to sign, you can shed more tears and sigh, Duress, and would win. Twenty-four carat marvelous!"
"Then I should ask Sir William to witness my signature?"
"Yes," he said, enthralled by her, so clever and daring, and dangerous. Perhaps too dangerous. "This is checkmate."
"How so?"
"Tess is safe in only one way: if you remarry and you've blocked that." Though the fan stopped, her eyes watched him over the edge. Then the movement began again and he handed her back the letter, thinking, Devilishly clever--for you, but not for me. "Skye advised you brilliantly."
"No one advised me, except you--something you said guided me."
His heart skipped. "No one else has seen this?"
"No. And no one else will. It can be secret between us."
He heard the "can be" and wondered where that led, despondent now but hiding it. The fire in the grate needed attention so he got up and used the poker to give himself time to think. The air was still strong with the smell of smoke and burning but he did not register it, only her.
How in the hell did she figure that all out?
It's totally brilliant, all the pieces are on the board, for both of us. She's won, she'll beat Tess, but I've lost. I'll still have to negotiate for her, and now I'm surer than hell I can up her stipend, but Angelique's conceded nothing and left her game plan open.
I've lost. I don't share in the big prize: Her. "So the answer to my question is No, must be No?"
Only the fan moved. "Why?" she asked, without emotion.
"Because the moment you do, you lose the game, you lose all power over Tess Struan."
"Yes, I would." She closed the fan quietly and let it rest in her lap. Her eyes never left his, nor their intensity.
For a moment he felt hypnotized, then his mind flared into action, and sudden hope spread through him.
"I would, you said, meaning you would. But I wouldn't? I wouldn't lose power?"
Now she smiled. It was an answer.
The Mona Lisa again, he thought, strange how her face changes, how I think it changes, how really devious she is, and how vigilant I'm going to have to be to tame this filly. I still don't understand but a faint heart never won a fair lady. It took all of his will to keep his feet planted where they were. "I love you for all the usual reasons, and I love your cleverness.
Now, formally, please, will you marry me?"
"Yes," she said.
"Hallelujah!" Gornt said, lightheaded, but did not move from the fireplace.