“No.” He rolled on his back. Side by side, we stared at the ceiling, and the shadow of the electric fan as it swept the air. Outside the window, the rain poured down on the roof, drowning out the noise of the thunder. His pale skin stretched across his ribs. I thought of the rubbers in the nearby drawer, untouched.

“When do you leave?” I said.

“Tomorrow. They’ve got a place for me on a Liberator leaving at dawn.”

“At dawn?”

“Yes.”

“Dawn tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now.”

For an instant, a streak of lightning turned the room as bright as noon. A boom shook the house. We lay there on the bed, holding hands, and waited for it to pass. Another streak, another boom. Underneath it all, the rain roared on the metal roof, and the tears ran from the corners of my eyes and down my temples to the pillow, because I understood. Now I understood.

“Do you remember what we said to each other on the airplane?” I said.

“Every word.”

“Is that so?”

“Try me.”

“Well, you remember how I called the Windsors a pair of romantics, and you said they weren’t romantics at all?”

“I remember.”

“You said that it was a modern thing to do, choosing love over duty.”

“Ah, yes. Rather facile of me, wasn’t it?”

“You mean you don’t believe that now?”

“I mean, at that point, I’d never really loved a woman before. I didn’t know what sacrifice meant.”

“Maybe the duke didn’t know about sacrifice, either. I don’t believe he ever really wanted to be king. Do you?”

Thorpe released my hand and reached over to the bedside table to find a pack of cigarettes. He offered it first to me. I shook my head. He tapped one out for himself and produced a match. “Well, I imagine he wanted the privilege of kingship, right enough. It was the responsibility that went with the privilege, that’s what he didn’t want.” He lit the cigarette and smoked it thoughtfully, one arm tucked behind his head.

“Yes. He discovered that being king didn’t mean you could have anything you wanted, but that you couldn’t. And he wanted her.”

“Yes. And he got her. And his freedom.”

I rolled on my side to face him. The lightning came again, the wind howled against the walls.

“My God,” I said. “You’re the romantic, aren’t you?”

“Rubbish.”

“Yes, it’s true. I see it now.”

“You see what you want to see. The truth is, I’ve betrayed every ideal I ever held. I’ve killed men who never saw me coming. I’ve lied and stolen. Then you. I saw you and wanted you and seduced you—”

“You fell in love with me.”