Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard

by Vanessa Kelly

  “Of course,” Steele replied in a bored voice. “Hired brutes from the stews are hardly a match for my men. We’ve got them under guard in Lord Blake’s study.” He cast an ironic gaze on Cyrus. “Sadly, I fear his lordship’s furniture is a little worse for the encounter.”

  Cyrus huffed with outrage again, but the Russian ambassador cut him off. “Captain St. George, I demand to know the meaning of this intrusion. And what is this talk of thugs and rescues?”

  “Your Excellency,” Aden said. “The prince is blackmailing Lady Vivien into an unwanted marriage and holding her entire family hostage. To prevent her from trying to escape, he recruited a criminal gang to keep the Blakes’ prisoners within their own household.”

  With a snarl, Khovansky took a step toward Aden. “You will regret this action until the day you die, I promise you.”

  Aden barked out a short laugh. “I think not. By the way, my dear count,” he added, turning back to the ambassador, “Prince Ivan was also responsible for Lady Vivien’s abduction some weeks ago.”

  “These are outrageous accusations to make against a member of the Russian Court,” the ambassador said in an austere tone. “You would be wise to have proof before making them.”

  “I have ample proof, enough to have the prince thrown into prison for a very long time if he were an Englishman.”

  “You will answer for those baseless accusations,” Khovansky snarled. “I will see you hang if I have to go to the Regent himself.”

  Vivien let out a strangled gasp, clutching the edge of the table.

  Countess Lieven glanced at her before directing her sharp gaze at Khovansky. “You do know who the captain’s father is, do you not?” When the prince gave her a baffled stare, she gave an insouciant shrug. “Never mind. You will soon enough.” Then she left her seat and rustled over to Vivien, taking her hand in a comforting grip. “Are these distressful accusations true, my child?”

  Vivien shook so badly she feared her legs might collapse. With every inch of her being she wanted to tell the truth. But what would that mean for Aden? Would she precipitate his ruin, possibly even his murder?

  She forced herself to meet Khovansky’s eyes. The burning hatred and the demented threat she saw in his expression sent shards of fear slicing through her. Not for herself, but for Aden.

  “Vivien, look at me.” Aden’s calm voice cut through her panic. She took a deep breath and met his gaze.

  And lost her breath all over again when she saw the love in his eyes, shining on her like sunlight on Midsummer’s Morn.

  “My darling, you must trust me,” he said. “I promise all will be well.”

  His tender gravity transformed the words into a vow, one that bound them together for the days and years to come. Vivien’s heart unfolded like the pages of a book as she smiled back at him. For a glorious moment they simply looked at each other, and then he nodded, prompting her to speak.

  “Yes, my lady,” she responded to the countess. “Captain St. George speaks the truth. Prince Ivan was responsible for my abduction, and has threatened my family with financial ruin if I don’t marry him.”

  Cyrus dropped into his chair and began moaning in unhappy chorus with his mother’s hysterical tears.

  The countess curled a lip at the prince before returning her attention to Vivien. “I take it that you have no wish to marry Prince Ivan, then.”

  “I never did, my lady,” Vivien said firmly.

  The older woman patted her hand. “Then you shall not.” She turned to her husband. “My dear sir, under the circumstances I think it best our party leave. Immediately.”

  “Indeed, my dear.” Count Lieven directed an imperious stare at Ivan the Terrible. “Your Highness, I will ask you to accompany us back to the embassy. We have much to discuss.”

  The prince had been frozen in place, staring at Vivien with poisonous venom, but the ambassador’s words cut him loose. “No,” he roared, pitching himself down the table toward Vivien.

  She barely had time to fling her arms up before Aden grabbed the prince from behind. He spun him around and drilled a fist into Khovansky’s face, following it up with a punishing blow under the man’s jaw. The prince’s eyes rolled in his head and he dropped to the floor without a sound.

  “Well done, Captain,” muttered Countess Lieven.

  Vivien let out a strangled, astonished laugh.

  “I never could stand him,” the countess whispered to her. “Dreadful, froggy-faced lout.”

  Not that there was any need to whisper, given the shouts and hysterical noises coming from the rest of the guests. Fortunately, Aden and Steele quickly exerted control and Vivien sank down in her chair to watch them restore order out of chaos.

  After calling two footmen up from the kitchen, Steele oversaw the transfer of Khovansky’s inert form to the ambassador’s carriage. The countess, after hugging Vivien, hurried out with her husband and the other guests followed, obviously eager to begin spreading the gossip about the exciting conclusion of Vivien’s aborted engagement party.

  “Ruined. We’re ruined,” moaned Cyrus.

  Vivien glared at her brother. “Do shut up, will you, Cyrus? If we are ruined, it’s your fault.”

  She looked at her mother and Kit at the other end of the long, cluttered dining table. Mamma was weeping loudly into her handkerchief while Kit ineffectually patted her on the shoulder. “In fact, it’s all our faults,” Vivien added, “and it’s time we start taking responsibility for our mistakes.”

  Cyrus jumped to his feet. “You can do whatever you want, but I won’t stay here a minute longer and listen to this drivel.”

  As he stormed out of the room, their mother hauled herself from her chair. “Cyrus,” she bleated plaintively, rushing after him. “What are we all to do?”

  Kit sighed. “I’d better go after them, if only to make sure Cyrus doesn’t strangle Mamma.”

  “What a splendid idea,” Aden said, coming in from the hallway. “And make sure everyone else leaves us alone. Your sister doesn’t need any more upset.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Kit grasped Aden’s hand and wrung it. “Thank you, sir, for everything.”

  Aden gave him a wry smile. “You did well, Kit. I begin to have some hope for you.”

  When Kit laughed and left the room, Aden closed the door behind him.

  Vivien sucked in a breath. Finally, they were alone. She stood up again on wobbly legs, grasping at the table to steady herself. Aden crossed the length of the room in long, loping strides.

  “Easy, my love.” He lowered her back into her chair. “There’s no need to do anything. Just sit down and rest for a few minutes.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, hardly able to look him in the face. Suddenly, she was more nervous than she’d been all evening. “I don’t usually act like such a wet hen.”

  Aden hooked an arm over the back of a neighboring chair and pulled it over. “You’re no wet hen, Vivien. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

  He gently removed the horrible, heavy pieces of jewelry from her neck and wrists and tossed them carelessly on the table, pulling a choked laugh from Vivien. Then he took her hands, turned them over, and planted a kiss, first on one palm and then the other. His handsome face grew blurry, and Vivien had to blink several times to clear her vision. He waited patiently, gazing at her with such tenderness that she found her throat closing on yet more tears.

  She studied him, amazed at the change. It was Aden, and yet not. Or, rather, the Aden she’d always longed for him to be—open, loving, able to let her in.

  “Is it really over?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “The ambassador and his wife—who was splendid, I must say—will deal with Khovansky. As for his band of thugs, Griffin and his men are hauling them off to Bow Street. They will never bother you again, Vivien.”

  Her defensive walls finally crumbled. Despite herself, she couldn’t hold back a few sobs of relief. The nightmare was finally over, at least for her. But fo
r Aden?

  She clutched his hands. “But you’re safe, aren’t you? Prince Ivan will not be able to harm you?” She couldn’t hold back a shudder. “He made such horrible threats—”

  Aden leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, teasing her mouth with tender kisses that slowly grew heated. He thoroughly explored her mouth, gently demanding she let him in. When she did, he claimed her, kissing her until she had to clutch at the lapels of his coat to hold steady.

  When he finally broke away, his eyes gleamed with sensual intent and Vivien was gasping for breath.

  “You’re not to worry about Khovansky ever again,” he said. “Do you understand?”

  Still reeling from his kiss, she could only nod.

  “Good.” He gave her a rather stern look. “Not that you don’t deserve a scold for what you did—or didn’t do, I might say.”

  She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Goose,” he said affectionately. “I mean for not sending for me or Sir Dominic right away. I know you agreed to marry Khovansky only to save your brother and me. Your intentions were noble, but unwise, to say the least.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do. Besides,” she grumbled, “you weren’t very encouraging the last time we spoke, if you recall.”

  He grimaced. “I’m an idiot, and I apologize for that. I let my fear and my pride come between us, and only by the grace of God—and Kit—did we come around.” He took her face between his hands. “I’ll never leave you again, Vivien. I swear it.”

  Too overcome with emotion to speak, she leaned in to give him a kiss. They engaged in that very pleasurable activity until they were both breathless and heated.

  Aden pulled back with a groan. “We’ve got to stop or I’ll have you on the table with your heels up in the air. I hardly think Lord Blake would approve.”

  She giggled. The sound of her laughter made her dizzy, since only a few hours ago she’d believed she’d never laugh again. “What happens now? I’m very happy to be free of my engagement, of course, but it does leave my family in a terrible pickle.”

  “We’re going to get married and find a place to live, regardless of what happens to your family. There are some nice little terraces going up around Cadogan Square that might do very well.”

  Vivien grabbed the front of his coat. “Truly?”

  He frowned. “Yes. We’re going to get married, so what did you think?”

  “But what about your work? Can you simply walk away from that?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Trust me, I’m ready. Besides, there are other things I can do to help Dominic and the government that don’t require me to skulk around the Continent in disguise. From now on, the only skulking I’ll be doing is under the sheets with you.”

  She smiled, patting his chest. “That sounds lovely, but . . .”

  “But?”

  Vivien anxiously chewed her lip. Aden tipped her chin up.

  “Out with it, my love.”

  “It will be a financial burden, but Mamma and Kit will have to live with us.”

  He stared at her with mock horror.

  “Well, they will,” she said defensively.

  Aden waved an insouciant hand. “Not to worry. I have a plan. You’ll simply have to support us at the gaming tables.”

  She scowled at him. “I will not!”

  He laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m by no means poor. I inherited a tidy sum from my aunt some years ago, and I’ve had a great deal of success investing it. I won’t do a thing to help Cyrus, but I am well able to provide for the rest of your family.”

  Vivien was about to throw her arms around his neck when a horrible thought darted into her head.

  Aden rolled his eyes. “What now?”

  “What will your father think of all this?” she blurted out. “I’ve created such a horrible scandal and God knows what people will say about me and Prince Ivan. Will the Regent be displeased if you marry me?”

  “Darling, I’m his by-blow and the result of one of the more lurid scandals in the ton. How upset do you think he could get? Besides, if he does have any objections, my mother will deal with him.”

  She stared at him doubtfully. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” He stroked her jaw. “Did I not promise weeks ago I would take care of you?”

  “You did, but it works both ways.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to take care of you, too,” she answered, tapping him on the chest for emphasis. “You need a bit of fussing over.”

  He shook his head, looking a bit dazed. “My love, I think I have been waiting my entire life for someone to fuss over me.”

  “Good. From now on we take care of each other.”

  “Now that you mention it,” he said, pulling her onto his lap. “There is something I’d like you to take care of.”

  “So I see,” she said, laughing with a joy so encompassing she could barely contain it. “Or, rather, feel.”

  She shifted to get more comfortable, and Aden drew in a sharp breath. “I think I have the perfect solution to your problem,” she murmured.

  “Splendid,” he replied, nuzzling her throat. “Then I suggest you get started immediately.”

  Epilogue

  Thornbury House, Berkeley Square

  December 1814

  Dominic Hunter stood inside the doorway to the ornately formal drawing room, allowing himself to bask in the happy scene playing out in front of him. His schemes usually came to fruition, but rarely had he taken such pleasure in the outcome as he did now.

  He heard the rustle of silk behind him and then a small, gloved hand slipped into the crook of his elbow.

  “Goodness, Dominic,” said a gently lilting voice. “Why are you hovering in the doorway? Don’t you want to congratulate the bride and groom? After all, they would never have reached this moment without you.”

  He smiled down at the diminutive and comfortably plump middle-aged woman, still lovely after so many years, who’d come to stand beside him. “I have the feeling that Aden and his new wife would have found their way to each other somehow, Lady Tait. I merely gave them a nudge in the right direction.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what Anthony told me. And why, my dear, do you insist on calling me Lady Tait when we’re in public? It’s ridiculous to be so formal. You know very well I’m only twelve years older than you.”

  Dominic smiled at her comically wry expression. “Yes, but you’ve been more of a mother to me than my own mother ever had the chance to be.”

  Her eyes softened as she tugged him down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Dominic. You know the special place you will always hold in my heart.” Her glance cut over to Aden and Vivien, standing in the center of the room greeting their wedding guests. “I hope you will find your happiness someday, just as that lovely couple has.”

  A dark, familiar pain rustled deep within him. Dominic barely acknowledged it, having learned to live with it long ago.

  “This makes me happy,” he said. “To know that Aden is where he truly belongs. It has been many years in the making, and no man deserves it more.”

  Lady Tait let out a ladylike snort. “Dominic, you know very well—”

  A deep, masculine voice cut her off. “Linnet, Dominic is much too old for you to be scolding him, don’t you think? And in public, no less. You’ll set all the gossips to buzzing.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Dominic turned to greet his former guardian and mentor. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to see you. It’s been much too long.”

  Sir Anthony Tait’s upright form barely showed any concession to his age, although his hair was liberally sprinkled with gray and his lean face had grown craggier with the years. But his clear, hazel gaze still gleamed with the intelligence and sharp perception that had made him one of England’s most formidable spymasters.

  Lady Tait glowered at her husband, obviously intending to cow him. She failed miserably. Firstly, she was so muc
h shorter than he and, secondly, her love for him lit up her features. Dominic had lived with the Taits for several years as a lad, and he knew better than anyone the strength of their feelings for each other. He’d been privileged beyond measure to be considered a part of their family.

  “I was merely reminding Dominic that he’s not too old to find his own happiness. Surely you can’t disagree with that,” Lady Tait said, trying to sound severe.

  “My dear, I make it a strict policy never to disagree with you,” her husband replied.

  When her mouth dropped open in disbelief, both Dominic and Sir Anthony laughed. Lady Tait drew herself up to her full height—which barely reached the center of Dominic’s chest—and snapped open her fan.

  “If you two gentlemen will excuse me,” she said in an imperious voice, “I intend to make my congratulations to the bride and groom. Anthony, do not keep Dominic trapped here while you prose on forever about government business. We’re at a wedding, not a meeting at the Home Office.”

  “Yes, my love,” Sir Anthony replied in a dutiful voice.

  Lady Tait muttered something about stubborn men under her breath, but Dominic didn’t miss the smile lurking about her lips as she sailed off.

  “She has a point,” Sir Anthony said. “It’s long past time for you to get married and start a family of your own. Whatever happened in the past should not—”

  Dominic narrowed his gaze in warning.

  The older man studied his face for a few moments and then sighed. “Very well. But since we are speaking of family, do we expect Griffin to make an appearance today?”

  “No. The Prince Regent is expected shortly. I can’t imagine Prinny would welcome the proprietor of London’s most notorious gaming houses to his son’s wedding, especially since His Royal Highness also happens to owe Griffin a considerable sum of money. Besides,” Dominic said, glancing around at the genteel assemblage, “this is hardly Griffin’s style.”

  “It could be,” Anthony replied. “You’re not giving up on your plans to reform him, are you?” He gestured toward the happy couple, now making their way in a leisurely fashion about the room to greet their guests. “Griffin deserves this as much as Aden does.”