Scandalous Deception

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Scandalous Deception Page 26

by Rosemary Rogers


  Brianna could not help but chuckle as she remembered the manner she had blackmailed Edmond into allowing her to remain at Huntley House, and even demanded that he procure a companion for her.

  “I assure you, Mr. Monroe, Edmond did not force me to accompany him. It was entirely my choice to travel to St. Petersburg.”

  Without warning, he reached out his hand to brush a finger down her chilled cheek.

  “Then why do you look so pale?”

  She gave a slow shake of her head. “I am not feeling terribly well. I think the journey was more draining than I realized.”

  She had barely finished speaking when he was crossing the room to pour a glass of a dark liquid from the pitcher set on the porcelain stove. Returning to her side, he settled his tall form on the window seat and pressed the glass into her hand.

  “Here.”

  The glass was warm against her skin and filled the air with the scent of cloves.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing more than spiced punch. It will warm you.” Cupping her hand with his own, he lifted the glass to her lips. “Drink slowly.”

  She took a cautious sip, nearly groaning in relief as the punch slid down her throat with welcome warmth, soothing the nausea.

  Oh…it was delicious.

  Savoring the heat spreading through her body, Brianna failed to notice they were no longer alone. Not until a choked cough filled the room.

  Brianna turned her head to discover Vanya standing in the center of the room, her countenance carefully expressionless as she regarded the unwitting intimacy of the two seated on the window seat.

  Despite the innocence of their position, Brianna felt a blush touch her cheeks. Perhaps it was because she sensed the older woman was far from indifferent beneath her demeanor of calm composure.

  “Here you are, Richard.” The older woman smiled, her hands smoothing over the mulberry velvet of her gown. “I see you have introduced yourself to my beautiful young guest. Is anything the matter?”

  Indifferent to the tension that suddenly filled the room, Richard lowered his hand and slowly lifted himself to his feet.

  “Miss Quinn was not feeling well.”

  Vanya’s expression softened with concern. “Oh, ma petite, how terrible. Are you in need of a doctor?”

  “No, no. Please, it is nothing.” Embarrassed that her silly bout of nausea was stirring a fuss, Brianna gave a firm shake of her head. “I am feeling better already.”

  Vanya moved forward, her worried gaze on Brianna although her feet instinctively seemed to carry her to Richard’s side. She even went so far as to lay a possessive hand on his arm.

  “I will have a hot bath carried to your rooms. There is nothing more refreshing.”

  “Oh, that sounds lovely.” Brianna did not have to pretend her gratitude. It had been too long since she had the pleasure of more than a swift wash in cold water. Rising to her feet, she dipped a small curtsey. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”

  He offered his sweet smile. “The pleasure, Miss Quinn, was entirely mine.”

  Vanya shifted her attention to the gentleman at her side, an oddly somber expression settling upon her beautiful face.

  “Do not pay him the least attention, ma petite. He is an incorrigible flirt,” she murmured.

  “How can you say such a thing?” Richard protested, lifting Vanya’s hand to press a lingering kiss upon her fingers. “You, my love, are a master of flirtation.”

  Her body arched toward him with the ease of long-time lovers. “Never with you, Richard.”

  His expression held enough tenderness to twist even the most hardened heart.

  “Yes,” he murmured softly, “that is what continues to give me hope.”

  Feeling decidedly de trop, Brianna slipped from the room and silently made her way back to her chambers.

  A wry smile touched her lips as she entered the lavish parlor and pulled the door closed behind her. Whatever Vanya’s bold words of endless lovers and glorious independence, it was obvious she was deeply attached to Mr. Richard Monroe.

  Perhaps more than just attached.

  Obviously, however, the woman was simply too stubborn to admit her feelings. Even to herself.

  It was a knowledge that sent a chill down her spine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE SUN WAS DIPPING TOWARD the horizon when Brianna heard the sound of Edmond’s voice in the corridor.

  Not at all certain that she was prepared to face him, she waited until she heard the door to his chambers close before slipping on a heavy, ermine-lined cloak that Edmond had insisted she purchase prior to leaving England along with a heavy muff. With the hood raised, her face remained in deep shadows, and leaving behind the veil, she left her rooms and made her way to the small garden below.

  Even prepared for the cold, Brianna’s breath was wrenched from her lungs as the frigid air clawed at her. For a moment, she debated the wisdom of scurrying back to the warmth of her rooms. As refreshing as the cold might be, it was edged with a brutal chill that threatened to freeze her to the bone.

  Then her gaze caught sight of the nearby Neva River and all thoughts of returning inside were cast aside.

  Bewitched by the near fairytale sight of ice skaters, sleighs, vendors and pedestrians moving along the frozen river, Brianna walked to the edge of the empty garden. Despite the cold, there were hundreds of people mingling together, the echo of laughter reaching the garden and bringing a smile to her face.

  From behind her, she heard the sound of the terrace door opening, and the crunch of footsteps crossing the ice-crusted snow.

  She did not bother to turn around.

  “Brianna?”

  Still she did not turn. “Hmm?”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  In truth, she was not certain. It had not entirely been due to a need to avoid Edmond. She had known the moment she had left her rooms that he would come in search of her. If she truly desired to avoid the stubborn man, she would have to travel a great deal further than the garden.

  At last, she grasped the most convenient excuse that came to mind. “I needed some fresh air.”

  “Fresh? It is freezing.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, Edmond firmly turned her to meet his searching gaze. “Come back inside where it is warm.”

  “In a while.”

  The dark brows drew together at her refusal to jump at his command, but surprisingly, he seemed more concerned than angry.

  “Vanya said that you were not feeling well.”

  “I am fine.” She smiled ruefully as he continued to regard her as if she might swoon at any moment. “Truly, I am, Edmond. It was nothing more than a passing queasiness.”

  He stepped closer, lifting his hand to lightly touch the shadows beneath her eyes.

  “You are not accustomed to such hard travel, ma souris. You need to rest over the next few days.”

  “I have been doing nothing but resting the entire day. It feels good to be out of the house.” Oddly unnerved by his fussing, Brianna sought to divert his attention. Pulling from his grip, she turned back toward the wrought-iron fencing and pointed toward the island in the center of the frozen river. “What is that?”

  There was a brittle silence before Edmond shifted to stand directly behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her firmly against his hard body.

  “That is the Petropavlovsky Cathedral.” He murmured. “It is the burial place for the Czars of Russia.”

  “There are so many trees. Do they have some religious significance?”

  He chuckled softly. “Actually, they were left to grow on the island out of the very real possibility that the soldiers would need firewood if the fortress surrounding the cathedral was ever under siege. Once I have dealt with the traitors, I will take you to visit the island. There are not only the Czars’ tombs to see, but a treasury mint and the Governor’s House.”

  Brianna tilted back her head to regard him in surprise. “Y
ou intend to take me sightseeing?”

  “Of course. I also intend to take you ice skating on the Neva.”

  “Ice skating? You?”

  He leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “Why do you look so shocked? I happen to be a fine ice skater.”

  Sharply turning her attention to the skaters skimming down the river with elegant ease, Brianna easily imagined Edmond among them.

  “Of course you are,” she said, dryly.

  His arms tightened about her. “Or if you prefer, we can simply mingle among the vendors that arrive daily to do business on the river. You have never tasted anything so fine as their fresh gingerbread.”

  “It seems odd to watch the sleighs travel over the river as if it is just another road.”

  She felt him shrug. “During much of the winter, it is the most important road in all of St. Petersburg, since most of the bridges are removed once the river freezes over. Ah.”

  “What is it?”

  “Watch the sky,” he commanded.

  “Why?”

  “Just be patient.”

  Wondering if there were about to be a fireworks show over the city, she obligingly tilted back her head, waiting for the explosions. What she witnessed instead was a slow kaleidoscope of colors spreading across the sky as the sun sank behind the horizon. From pinks to lavenders to the deepest mauve, the beautiful palette brushed over the spires and domes of the city, making Brianna catch her breath in wonderment.

  “Oh…I have never seen anything so exquisite.”

  She felt his chest expand as he breathed out a soft sigh. “Neither have I.”

  Turning her head, Brianna realized that Edmond was gazing at her profile, not the spectacular sunset. Her heart slammed against her chest as a thick, ready awareness heated the air between them. With a soft groan, he lowered his head to capture her lips in a sweetly savage kiss.

  Brianna allowed herself to savor the taste of brandy on his lips, the potent pleasure of his tongue as it dipped into her mouth, the strong hands digging into her waist as his body hardened with need.

  At last, it was the belated realization that they were in full view of the house that made her pull back with a small gasp.

  “Edmond, someone will see.”

  Denied her lips, Edmond pushed her hood back far enough to skim his own lips down the curve of her cheek.

  “Let them watch. I do not care,” he rasped, his breath scalding against her chilled skin. “Moya duska.”

  The unfamiliar Russian words managed to penetrate the intoxicating sensations tingling through her body. Her fingers dug into his arms as her knees threatened to buckle.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said that, if you think the winter sunset is beautiful, just wait until the summer and the white nights,” he easily lied, clearly unwilling to reveal the meaning of his husky words. “The Emperor will no doubt invite us to his yearly celebration on the solstice.”

  Turning in his arms, Brianna jutted her chin upward and forced herself to meet his brilliant blue gaze.

  “No.”

  “Brianna, you cannot ignore an invitation from Alexander Pavlovich, no matter how tedious his formal affairs can be,” he chided. “They are very much a royal command.”

  “It has nothing to do with the invitation.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I cannot remain in Russia until summer.”

  Edmond dropped his arms and stepped back, his expression as cold as the air that cut through her cape with a sharp fury.

  “Why not?”

  She shivered, although not entirely from the cold. “I will reach my majority in May. I must be in London to sign the papers and receive my inheritance.”

  “That can be dealt with by a solicitor.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You know how important this is to me, Edmond. I wish to handle the business in person.”

  Edmond’s jaw tightened as he struggled against his urge to toss out a command and have it obeyed.

  “Very well. We can travel back to London for a few weeks. Spring is the one bearable season in the city, and Stefan is always pleased when I return for a visit.”

  Brianna could not deny a flare of astonishment at his concession. As Mr. Richard Monroe had so recently pointed out, Edmond was a gentleman accustomed to having his way. In everything.

  Still, there was a tiny voice in the back of her mind warning her not to waver on her impetuous declaration. Mr. Richard Monroe had pointed out more than Edmond’s innate arrogance. His mere presence in St. Petersburg revealed the future of anyone foolish enough to allow their passions to rule their heads.

  A future that Brianna was determined to avoid. What better way than setting a firm date to put Edmond out of her life?

  “I intend to remain in London, Edmond,” she said, wrapping her arms about her shivering body. “With my inheritance, I will be able to buy a small home and begin to build the life I have always desired.”

  His eyes smoldered with a dangerous fury. “Are you attempting to stir my temper, ma souris?”

  She smiled wryly, despite the prickles of alarm that raced over her skin. “I seem to stir your temper whenever I express my own opinions. Perhaps, Edmond, you would be happier with a woman who is a great deal more biddable than I am.”

  “I would be happier with a woman who was not forever battling against her desire to be with me.” He reached to grasp her chin in his fingers. “You want me. You want to be with me. Why do you try to deny it?”

  “I have never denied that I…desire you,” she muttered. “But that does not mean I shall devote the rest of my life to being your mistress. There are other things I wish to accomplish.”

  “What things?”

  Feeling distinctly harassed, Brianna jerked from his grasp and turned to glare at the gas lanterns that were being lit along the icy streets.

  “I have yet to decide,” she grudgingly admitted. Perhaps she would never alter destiny, but London was littered with the poor and defenseless. There had to be any number of charities who were desperate for assistance. “But I will.”

  She heard his breath hiss between his clenched teeth. “So you intend to leave me so that you can live in a cramped house in the midst of London with no family, no friends and the hope of achieving some vague accomplishment?”

  She hunched her shoulders. He made it all sound so…lonely. Almost pathetic.

  Dammit. She could be happy, even fulfilled, without this man in her life.

  She could.

  “I will have Janet,” she said, more in an effort to comfort herself than convince him of her wonderful future.

  “Are you so certain?” he demanded. “I believe Boris might have something to say about that.”

  She stabbed him with a frustrated glare. “Fine, then I will live alone. It is better than…”

  “Better than what?” He muttered a dark curse as she remained stubbornly silent. “Mon dieu, what did Vanya say to you?”

  She lowered her lashes over her eyes. Let him assume that Vanya had convinced her of the delights to be found in a life of independence. It was far better than admitting she was terrified of becoming some sort of faithful lapdog, incapable of leaving him.

  “Nothing.”

  “Brianna…”

  The sound of a nearby door being opened was like a godsend and Brianna heaved a covert sigh of relief as Vanya’s voice floated on the icy air.

  “Edmond.”

  The hard blue gaze never shifted from Brianna’s wary face. “Not now, Vanya.”

  “Forgive me for intruding, but I just received a message from Richard.” Vanya firmly refused to be dismissed. “He has all in place, but you must leave now if you are to slip into the palace unnoted.”

  Brianna sucked in a sharp breath, her heart clenching with concern. “Good lord, you intend to sneak into the Winter Palace?”

  He shrugged in a dismissive fashion, an oddly arrested expression on his face as he studied her anxious eyes. As if
he were pleased by the knowledge she was disturbed at the thought of him being in danger.

  “It will not be the first occasion I have done so.”

  The fact that she was not at all surprised by his confession did nothing to ease the knots in the pit of her stomach.

  “What of the guards?”

  He grimaced. “Unfortunately, the palace is far too vast to protect against intruders. Especially an intruder who has an accomplice within.”

  The accomplice had to be Mr. Monroe.

  “What is so important that you are willing to risk exposure?”

  “Fedor Dubov has received an invitation to dine. I intend to discover who he speaks with while he is there.” A cold smile of anticipation twisted his lips. “It never matters how careful a traitor believes themselves to be, they always give away some hint, even if only by the manner they so obviously avoid another guest.”

  “Surely Mr. Monroe is capable of such a task?” she demanded, her tone sharp.

  Edmond flicked a brow upward, but before he could respond, Vanya moved to stand at Brianna’s side.

  “Edmond is convinced that he alone is capable of recognizing a conspirator,” she said dryly.

  “It is not that at all.”

  Vanya regarded him with patent disbelief. “No?”

  “Monroe will be among the diners. It would be impossible for him to keep a constant watch upon Fedor Dubov without arousing suspicion.”

  Struck by a sudden notion, Brianna frowned in confusion. “And where do you intend to be?”

  His expression eased as a slow, wicked smile curved his lips.

  “You cannot expect me to reveal all my secrets, ma souris.” He cast an intimate glance down the length of her body. “Who is to know when I might need to keep an eye upon you?”

  She stiffened, her cheeks flaring with color at Vanya’s soft chuckle. Good lord, he was staring at her as if she were standing there stark naked.

  “If you dare to spy upon me I shall…”

  “You shall what?” he taunted.

  “You cannot expect me to reveal all my secrets,” she said, tossing his own words back in his face.

  Vanya’s laughter rang through the garden. “Touché, Edmond.”

 

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