Chapter 14: Things Lost And Found

If someone had told Belinda six months ago, she would be sitting in the grand audience hall of Buckingham Palace, watching as an Inspector, an American and a Chinaman being knighted, while two weeks pregnant with the child of a dead traitor, she would have told them they were insane, and probably thrashed their hides for their troubles.

It had been confirmed by her physician. She was carrying Nelson Rathbone's child.

Now she sat, gowned in dark blue, as close to mourning black she would go. No one knew of her connection with Rathbone. Initially she had been suspected, but the testimony of Chon, Roy and Lin had cleared her. The Queen, in particular, had been supportive when Belinda had divulged her secret.

She sat beside Lin in the front row, flanked by the great and the good, as the newly recovered Chon, Roy and Doyle knelt.

Chon and Roy had suffered minor injuries from their fall from the clock face of Big Ben, mainly cuts and bruises, and Roy suffered a sprained ankle.

They had been fortunate the Union flag had slowed their fall, and then the Royal carriage underneath was pure luck.

Doyle's arm was still in a sling, while his gunshot wound healed.

"In recognition of outstanding bravery, I dub thee Sir Chon Wang," Victoria graciously smiled on her saviours, gently tapping the Chinaman's shoulder with the ceremonial sword. He bowed his head, and then raised it. Belinda felt Lin smile proudly beside her.

"For uncommon valour, I dub thee Sir Roy O'Bannon," Victoria tapped Roy's shoulder next, and Lin smiled even wider. "And for steadfast dedication to justice, I dub thee Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Arise."

At that word, the three men stood, and turned to face the company, she saw Chon incline his head to Roy, muttering something as everyone stood, applauding.

It was the first time in centuries that a foreigner had been knighted, let alone two in one day.

A truly unlikely happening.

But as everyone slowly began to file out, stopping to greet and wring the hands of London's newest heroes, Belinda glanced over at the throne of Victoria, and felt sadness overwhelm her.

If Nelson's plan had worked, he would still be alive. If he hadn't been so damned stubborn, and gentlemanly and just so…Nelson, he would still be alive!

Alive and here to see their child born and grow.

After the doctor had confirmed it, such an unfurling of bittersweet maternal joy had washed over her, as she imagined what the child would be like. She imagined it would be a boy, perhaps with Nelson's dark eyes and unruly hair. Even now she could hear his childish whoops of delight as he ran through the halls of Sinclair House.

But then, thoughts of the future crowded in, as she realised she must face carrying their child, and raising it alone. She would be ostracised by society, cast out for having a relationship with a traitor, for bearing a child out of wedlock.

Even so, she would never regret their child. Never.

"Lady Sinclair!" Victoria's imperious voice boomed across the hall, as she paused while the quartet of heroes walked outside. "Walk with me a moment."

Unable to refuse, Belinda waited obediently in her sombre blue gown, before falling in beside Victoria and her ladies, their bustles drifting over the floor like water.

"Tis a strange event indeed, knighting a colonial and a Chinaman all in one day." Victoria began, clasping her hands demurely, as they slowly walked out of the grand hall, and down the staircase.

"Indeed," Belinda echoed respectfully, her eyes trained on the four people leading the way out of the palace, Lin's crimson gown shining radiantly in the light.

"What shall you do now?" Victoria asked, her piercing old eyes fixed on the younger woman.

"I shall probably return to Japan. There is nothing left for me here," Belinda replied quietly, looking down at the ring she now wore on a chain around her neck, in memory of her lost love.

"I would advise you not to be too hasty, Lady Sinclair," Victoria murmured, at which Belinda frowned.

Just as they were about to leave the palace altogether, and step into the courtyard, Victoria held her back.

"I know what it is to lose a loved one, my lady Sinclair. You feel as though your heart may burst, and it shall never be whole again," the older woman advised her gently, to which Belinda had to blink back tears. If anyone knew what she was going through, Victoria would. She had lost Albert, her husband, at the age of 42 to typhoid fever.

"How did you survive?" she breathed, looking down as she fought to control the tears. Her inner calm had long been shattered, and she did not know if she would ever regain it.

"I had my children, and I had my memories," Victoria told her with a small smile. "The ones we have loved and lost have a tendency to come back to us, in one form or another."

"If only that were so," Belinda whispered, looking up and away.

Then an achingly familiar voice, so familiar and close that it felt like the word was breathed against her neck, washed over her.

Belinda…

Instantly alert, Belinda spun around, eyes wide.

"Is something wrong, dear?" Victoria asked concernedly, her ladies murmuring apprehensively.

"I thought…nothing," Belinda replied, realising she had been only one to hear it. But it has sounded so much like him.

She made to leave the hall, when Victoria gently clasped her arm.

"You have sacrificed much for your monarch, Belinda, and you shall be rewarded. I fear we shall not meet again," she told her with a sad smile, while Belinda stared at her.

"I do not understand," she breathed, a painful vice closing around her chest.

"You shall, my dear. You shall." Victoria replied, before she kissed the young woman's forehead.

Belinda curtseyed, and left, confused.

Another whisper, all too familiar, washed through her mind.

Belinda…

Belinda walked out into the sunshine, towards the group waiting for her beside the brougham. She would ride with them to the docks, and see them off on their voyage to America.

Roy finally stopped teasing Chon, to turn to Belinda.

"You ok, Belinda?" he asked gently, as Belinda ceased her blind staring at the scenery as they passed through London.

"I am perfectly fine, Roy," she answered serenely, before she lapsed into silence for the rest of the journey.

It was late afternoon before she made it home, after farewelling Chon, Roy and Lin at the dockside.

The house was empty as she shrugged off her cloak and gloves, leaving them over the banister. It was a Sunday, and she had given her servants time off, to recover from the events of the past few weeks.

She was alone.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as she climbed the stairs wearily, tired beyond all reason. She was barely twenty-six, and already she had seen more grief, loss and death than she wanted to see for a lifetime.

As she glided into her bedroom, a thunderstorm broke over London, tiny little droplets of rain beginning to tap insistently against the windows.

Sighing, she crossed to the window, suddenly feeling hot and fevered. A headache beat at her temples, pounding away like a drumbeat.

Something was coming, and Belinda felt as though she waited with bated breath, but for what she didn't know.

Stop it, she told herself, stop it right now. Nothing is coming, no-one is here apart from you, and you're just being jittery.

"Hello dear," an aching familiar voice murmured behind her, awash with dark desire and hunger, as Belinda stiffened, her eyes meeting a pair of dark, cool, burning orbs in the window.

The reflection of a person she knew too well, loved too much stared back at her, as she gasped and spun around.

Belinda…

"Nelson!"

All will be explained soon, I promise. :)