Dimitri hissed in surprise. He would have bet his last ruble that no one beyond Josef was aware of his intent to leave his position.
“How did you discover my plans?”
Herrick adjusted the lace that peeked from the sleeve of his jacket.
“We all have our little talents.”
Dimitri shuddered, amazed by the man’s uncanny ability to discover even the darkest secrets. If he were not so rational, he might suspect the man of being a mystic.
“You are a frightening man, Herrick Gerhardt.”
Emma stepped away from his tight grip, her expression confused.
“You came here to tell us that the czar approves of Dimitri becoming a proper gentleman?”
Again there was that worrisome smile.
“Not entirely.”
Dimitri narrowed his gaze. “Perhaps we should speak in private.”
“No, I suspect that Emma will be interested in the czar’s decision,” Herrick chuckled. “Do not glare at me, Tipova. You are not about to be hauled before the firing squad. Although in time you might prefer such a fate.”
“Herrick, please.” Emma reached out to place her hand on Herrick’s forearm, her voice not entirely steady. “What has happened?”
Immediate regret chased the amusement from Herrick’s face as he patted her hand in comfort.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to worry you, my dear. That was never my intention,” he ruefully apologized. “I am an old man who must take his pleasure where he can, and I have been savoring the image of Tipova’s expression when I reveal that Alexander Pavlovich has made the decision to create a new title.”
Dimitri took an instinctive step backward, a sense of dread lodging in his gut.
“Title?”
“Baron Voglevich.” Herrick offered a formal bow. “I hope it suits you?”
Perhaps for the first time in his life, Dimitri was struck speechless.
He was aware that Alexander Pavlovich could be unpredictable, and certainly Dimitri had performed several dangerous tasks to protect the czar from potential uprisings, not to mention the information he acquired on the streets that he provided to the Winter Palace.
Still, he had never expected to receive a title.
Hell, he never wanted a title.
In his mind the men of society were worthless buffoons fit for nothing more than to provide easy plucking at his gaming houses.
It was Emma who at last filled the shocked silence.
“Do you mean—”
“I mean that when you wed, you will be the Baroness Voglevich,” Herrick gently completed her faltering words.
Dimitri clenched his hands, forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath.
“Why?”
“He is aware of the numerous services you have performed for the empire,” Herrick explained. “This is his means of offering his gratitude.”
Dimitri grimaced. “I would have preferred a large donation of rubles.”
“You have all the wealth you will ever need and, to be honest, the royal coffers are notoriously bare.” Herrick deliberately glanced toward the stunned woman at Dimitri’s side. “And now you have a bride to consider.”
Emma snatched her hand away, her eyes wide. “I have no desire for a title.”
“Nonsense.” Herrick regarded her with a stern expression. “You shall soon become accustomed to being a member of society. And your children, of course, will be grateful for the opportunities offered by their positions.”
Dimitri heaved a rueful sigh as Emma struggled against Herrick’s sly manipulation.
Clearly, they had been outmaneuvered.
Emma at last offered a reluctant laugh. “You do not fight fair.”
“Never.” Herrick clapped his hands together, a satisfied expression settling on his gaunt face. “We should toast your good fortune.”
“I have a better notion.” Dimitri pointed toward the door. “You will return to Vanya’s lovely party and I shall concentrate on pleasing my wife-to-be.”
Having achieved his goal, Herrick readily strolled across the floor.
“Of course. Oh, I suppose I should also mention that Czar Alexander has begun the arrangements for your wedding. He thought June would be a suitable month,” he murmured, his footsteps never slowing despite Dimitri’s and Emma’s protests. “And, Emma, I have requested that our English relatives travel to Russia for the ceremony. I had no notion there would be so many. Let us hope they will leave once the wedding is over.”
He swept from the room, leaving the two of them shaking their heads in disbelief.
“Good Lord,” Emma muttered.
“It would seem you shall soon have all the family you ever desired,” he said dryly. Then, noticing her pallor he pulled her into his arms, his hands running a comforting path over her back. “Emma?”
“Baroness.” She blinked, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders for support. “My head is spinning.”
He brushed a soft kiss over her mouth. “Do you still love me?”
“Of course.”
“Then nothing else matters.”
He returned for a much more lingering kiss, his tongue dipping between her lips to taste of her sweetness.
At last pulling back to study her upturned face, he was gratified to discover the color had returned to her cheeks and a glow of excitement in her eyes.
A slow smile curved her lips. “Well, Dimitri Tipova, how does it feel to be a respectable gentleman?”
His hands curved over her hips, tugging her against the stirring muscles of his thighs.
“At the moment it feels astonishingly wonderful.”
“Just so long as you do not become entirely civilized.” She lifted onto the tips of her toes, trailing a path of kisses along his jaw. “I would miss my wicked pirate.”
Desire exploded through him and without giving her the opportunity to come to her senses he was across the room locking the door. Then without pause he returned to sweep her off her feet.
Headed for the nearby sofa, he glanced down at the woman who had stolen the heart of the greatest thief in all of Russia.
“Perhaps I should demonstrate how wicked I can be.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7441-3
SCOUNDREL’S HONOR
Copyright © 2010 by Rosemary Rogers
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Scoundrel's Honor Page 38