Scandalous Deception

by Rosemary Rogers

“You are astonishingly calm for a woman who has just been taken hostage,” Viktor at last broke the frigid silence, his dark gaze narrowed as he studied her unreadable face.

  Maintaining her seeming calm, Brianna gave a faint shrug. Although the man was sprawled negligently against the leather seat, she did not miss the ease with which he kept the pistol pointed at her heart or the tension in the line of his jaw. Viktor Kazakov would pull that trigger without hesitation.

  “Would you prefer that I wail or gnash my teeth or swoon in terror?” she demanded, pleased that her voice revealed none of the panic she was barely keeping at bay.

  “It would be a far more predictable reaction for a gently bred maiden who discovers herself in such a predicament.”

  His mockery helped to stiffen her spine. “I may be gently bred, sir, but I can assure you that the past year has stolen any ability to swoon.” Her lips twisted, allowing her thoughts to flit from Thomas Wade to Lord Edmond Summerville to Viktor Kazakov. All three gentlemen had desired her for one purpose or another, none of which had anything to do with pleasing her. “I am quite accustomed to gentlemen storming into my life and using me for their own purpose. If I feel anything, it is resignation.”

  “Indeed?”

  “And perhaps a bit of annoyance that you chose such a miserable night for this abduction,” Brianna continued with a dramatic shiver. She had been forced from Vanya’s home wearing nothing more than her robe and delicate embroidered slippers.

  With a low rasp of laughter, Viktor Kazakov reached for a blanket that was folded on the bench beside him, tossing it toward her with a casual flick of his wrist.

  “You are not at all what I was expecting,” he said, watching beneath hooded lids as she wrapped the blanket about her shuddering form. “It is little wonder that you have managed to capture Edmond’s fancy.”

  Brianna tugged the blanket up to her chin, as much to hide her body from Viktor Kazakov’s heated gaze as to ward off the savage cold.

  “Hardly a stunning accomplishment,” she muttered. “Anything in skirts would capture his fancy.”

  “No. As much as I dislike the man, not even I can deny he has always possessed a fastidious refusal to take any mistress who is not utterly exquisite. His taste is—” he deliberately allowed his gaze to roam over her thick curls tumbling about her shoulders “—faultless.”

  Brianna’s fingers tightened on the blanket at his intimate gaze, but she was more determined to convince the man that she held no importance to Edmond than to chastise him for treating her as a common tart.

  “I shall have to take your word for it. In truth, I know very little about Edmond.” She lowered her gaze, as if in embarrassment. “Well, very little beyond the obvious. It is not as if we spend our time together actually conversing.”

  Brianna heard a faint rustle, then a slender finger was slipping beneath her chin and tilting her face up to meet Viktor’s dark, penetrating gaze.

  “I am quite certain that you possess many skills, Miss Quinn, but deceitfulness is not one of them.”

  She resisted the urge to jerk from his touch, sensing he would be pleased to know he disturbed her.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  His thumb brushed her lower lip. “You are a terrible liar.”

  Her heart jolted with fear. His touch was soft, but she did not doubt for a minute those slender fingers could wrap around her neck and squeeze the life from her.

  “I haven’t the least notion what you mean.”

  “You are far more than just another mistress.” His thumb pressed against her lips as they parted. “And before you attempt to convince me of your utter lack of importance to Edmond, allow me to inform you that I have devoted months to studying the damnable man until I know his habits better than my own.”

  “A rather tedious means to spend your time.”

  “But necessary.” A cold smile flickered through his dark eyes. “The only means to defeat an enemy is to study both his strengths and weaknesses. And you, ma belle, are most certainly one of his weaknesses.”

  “Absurd. I am nothing to him.”

  There was a long, unnerving silence as Viktor studied her pale features. Then, with a smooth motion, he settled back in his seat, slipping the pistol into the pocket of his greatcoat. It was a blatant motion intended to reveal that he was in utter command of the situation and there was not a damnable thing she could do about it.

  “I am intrigued to know how Stefan has reacted to his brother’s treachery,” he drawled. “They have been notoriously devoted to one another, but I should think that having Edmond seduce his fiancée would strain even Stefan’s mild temper.”

  Brianna grimaced. The devil take Edmond and his insistence that they pretend they were engaged while he posed as the Duke of Huntley. She had known it was a bad notion from the beginning.

  She would endure whatever gossip might tarnish her name, but Stefan deserved better. Far, far better.

  “What do you want with me?” she demanded.

  “Nothing more than the pleasure of your company.” A smug, unpleasant smile twisted his thin lips. “Oh, and of course, the assurance of Edmond’s good behavior.”

  It did not take a great deal of skill to realize that Viktor Kazakov’s pleasure in the thought of besting Edmond was far more than just the satisfaction of one opponent outwitting another. It was too fierce, too personal.

  For the moment, however, Brianna was more interested in discovering precisely why she had been taken hostage.

  “Good behavior?”

  “As I am sure you know, Miss Quinn, your lover has made a tedious habit of interfering in matters of the Russian Court that are none of his concern.”

  “Matters such as treason?”

  His self-satisfied smile never faltered. “’Tis only treason if we fail. Once we succeed, we shall be named liberators.”

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The man certainly possessed enough arrogance to place a crown on his own head. Always presuming he could discover one large enough to fit.

  “And you believe that by holding me hostage you will succeed?”

  “It will at least prevent Lord Edmond from interfering in our plans.”

  She bit back a curse as the carriage skated around a sharp corner, tipping precariously before jarring back onto four wheels. It seemed quite possible that she would end up in the ditch with a broken neck before the night was done.

  “Good lord, I thought you claimed that you had studied Edmond. If that is true, then you are a singularly inept observer,” she said, not having to pretend her derision. Surely he must know that whatever Edmond’s instinctive need to protect others, his loyalty would always belong to his Czar.

  The dark eyes flashed with fury. “There is a difference between boldness and stupidity, Miss Quinn. You try my temper at your peril.”

  She forced a stiff smile to her lips, knowing that she dare not provoke Viktor any further.

  “I am merely pointing out that Edmond has made it his life’s purpose to protect Alexander Pavlovich from harm,” she said. “He would never allow any threat, including my kidnapping, to prevent him from carrying out his duty.”

  “No,” he at last growled at the unshakable sincerity in her voice, refusing to believe he could have miscalculated. “Edmond has risked everything he holds dear, including his brother, to keep you at his side. Besides, I witnessed the two of you in the garden.”

  She shivered beneath the blanket. “You were spying upon us?”

  “Of course.” The smile returned to his mouth. “And I must say, I was quite amused by Edmond’s rather anxious expression as he fussed over you with such touching tenderness. It is obvious that he is still befuddled by his emotions for you.”

  Brianna was swift to quash the warm tingle that fluttered through the pit of her stomach. What did it matter if Viktor Kazakov was foolish enough to confuse lust with tenderness? She most certainly was not.

  “Befuddled or not, he will never allow himself
to be distracted from his responsibilities,” she said, more sharply than she intended. “He is incapable of allowing himself to fail.”

  A dangerous anger tightened his countenance. “You had best hope for all our sakes that you are mistaken, ma belle.”

  Brianna bit her lip, her stomach sick with dread. She knew better than to press the argument. Viktor Kazakov was convinced that he had halted Edmond from interfering in the looming revolution, and it would only anger him to suggest that his efforts of abducting her were worthless.

  And in truth, she was not at all certain what was to happen to her when the man was forced to accept that his plot had failed.

  Nothing good, she was certain of that.

  Trembling with a combination of fear and cold, she cleared the lump in her throat.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  A cruel smile touched his lips, as if he were pleased by the apprehension she could not entirely disguise.

  “It is a question that has plagued me the greater part of the day,” he drawled. “Despite your modest refusal to accept that Edmond is utterly enthralled, I do not doubt for a moment that he will come in search of you. I promised my…friends that I would lead him away from St. Petersburg, perhaps even as far as Novgorod.”

  Brianna swallowed her groan of despair. Dear lord, how far away was Novgorod? An hour? A day? A week?

  And more important, how would she ever make her way back to St. Petersburg? That was presuming she managed to free herself from Viktor Kazakov before he…

  No.

  She would not give in to despair.

  With a grim effort, she unclenched her teeth and considered her options. They were pathetically few, but not nonexistent, she sternly reminded herself as she frantically attempted to recall everything that Edmond had said of this traitorous gentleman.

  She recalled that Edmond had claimed the man was cunning, powerful and obsessively dedicated to overthrowing Alexander Pavlovich.

  He also said that he was vain, selfish and desperate to claim glory for himself. Which surely meant that he had to be less than pleased with his role as decoy while others were publicly leading the revolt.

  “So far?” she murmured softly, her brow wrinkled with a feigned hint of puzzlement. “I would have thought your presence would have been essential during such a momentous event.”

  His smile remained, but in the flicker of the carriage’s gas lights Brianna did not miss the darkening of his eyes.

  “My efforts have ensured that all is set into place.”

  “I…see.” Her voice was filled with doubt. “So you are not the leader of the conspirators?”

  A flush touched Viktor’s high cheekbones. Whether it was anger toward her probing or annoyance at not being able to claim ownership of the revolt was impossible to determine.

  “I will not deny I am…disappointed not to have the pleasure of watching the final, glorious destruction of the Romanov rule. It is, after all, what I have struggled to achieve since Alexander Pavlovich murdered his way to the throne.”

  “Yes, it hardly seems fair that you should be trapped in a miserable carriage, while others are celebrating your victory,” Brianna murmured. “And perhaps doing more than merely celebrating.”

  The dark eyes narrowed. “Precisely what are you implying, ma belle?”

  She did not have to feign her shiver. Despite the heavy blanket, she felt as if the frigid air was freezing the blood in her veins. She had not been so cold since she had been a child and managed to lock herself in her father’s icehouse. She shivered again as she recalled that it had been Edmond who had heard her screams for help and rescued her.

  On this occasion, she would have no one to depend upon but herself.

  Astonishingly, the rather dark thought helped to stiffen her spine.

  “If you do manage to overthrow the throne, then there will be a mad scramble for power, will there not? You can hardly claim your share if you are in Novgorod.” She abruptly widened her eyes, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Oh. But then, that is no doubt the reason you were urged to take me there in the first place.”

  “You know nothing of my compatriots. I would trust them with my very life.” His hands curled into fists as they lay on his lap, belying his determined air of nonchalance. “And there will be no mad scramble, as you so charmingly claim. The throne will be handed to the one best suited to lead.”

  “And who is that?”

  “Such an important matter will be decided by the Russian nobles, of course.”

  His words were smooth enough to reveal he had practiced them on several occasions, but Brianna sensed the dark hunger behind them. Viktor Kazakov might be willing to mouth all the proper sentiments, but his heart lusted for power. A lust that she did not doubt was shared by more than one of his conspirators.

  Did he suspect as much, as well?

  It seemed reasonable to suppose that he did.

  “Yes, well, I am certain that you know best.”

  The narrow, handsome face tightened.

  “I do know what you are attempting to accomplish.”

  “Really?” She shrugged. “And what is that?”

  His sharp, humorless laugh echoed through the frigid air. “You could not convince me that you were a passing fancy that Edmond would happily toss to the wolves, so now you think to worry me into returning to St. Petersburg with fears of betrayal from those who I call brothers-in-arms.”

  Brianna did not bother to try and deny his charge. Regardless of whether or not he suspected she was deliberately stirring his instinctive distrust, she knew that her words were striking deep into his festering fear.

  It was in the knotted muscles of his jaw, the restless tap of his fingers against his knee, the rasp of his swift, unsteady breath.

  “Even you must admit that it is rather ironic to trust others who have come together in the name of disloyalty,” she pressed, relentless. “Such a cause would hardly attract those of the highest moral fiber. Indeed, I would presume that such a disreputable purpose would be destined to lure only those utterly without conscience or scruples.”

  “I have been insulted on any number of occasions and in any number of languages, but never with such artful innocence.” The dark eyes narrowed with a cold fury that warned Brianna that she had pushed too far. “Poor Edmond. You are a very clever, and dangerous, young lady.”

  Brianna turned to gaze out the window, barely noting the falling snow. Anything was preferable to meeting the fevered, nearly mad glitter in Viktor’s dark eyes as she attempted to divert his anger.

  “Hardly clever, considering that I have allowed myself to be taken hostage and that I am currently freezing to near death in a carriage that is no doubt destined to become stuck in a snowdrift long before we ever reach Novgorod.”

  She sensed him shift restlessly on his seat. The tension in the carriage was thickening with every mile they traveled away from St. Petersburg.

  “You may take comfort in the knowledge that, if we do become stuck in a drift, then your lover will easily discover us and put a bullet through my heart,” he mocked, attempting to disguise his growing agitation. “You will then be free to return to St. Petersburg and all the comfort you desire.”

  “Even presuming that Edmond would be willing to risk all to try to rescue me, how do you expect him to be able to follow us?” Brianna demanded. “Did you leave directions for him?”

  Viktor made a sound of disgust. “Perhaps you do not know Lord Edmond Summerville as well I presumed. The bastard possesses an uncanny ability to haunt my every footstep. I cannot so much as sneeze without him knowing. There are moments when I wonder if he does not have some witchcraft at his disposal.”

  She was wise enough to hide her smile at his disgruntled tone. “If that is true, then why are you not concerned that he will overtake us on the road?”

  “It will take him time to discover you have been abducted and yet more time to uncover our trail. Besides, I have ensured that my men are k
eeping a careful guard on the road. They have orders to shoot anyone who appears to be following us. With any luck, one of them will manage to…”

  “No,” she interrupted the taunting words, her head jerking toward her companion so she could send him a fierce glare.

  Viktor’s lips twisted as he held up a slender hand. “Forgive me. It seems that Edmond is not the only one afflicted with the pangs of love.”

  It would have been a great deal easier to deny his words, if her heart did not feel as if it were being brutally crushed at the mere thought of Edmond in danger.

  Oh…God. She was such a fool. Such a damnable fool.

  “What is to happen once we reach Novgorod?” she abruptly demanded, desperate to divert her painful thoughts.

  Viktor glanced toward the window of the carriage, his expression hardening with determination.

  “Actually I am growing convinced that there is no need to travel such a distance.”

  Brianna stilled, hope flaring through her frigid body. “Then we are turning around?”

  He turned back to regard her with a mocking smile. “Not we.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It is enough that I have lured Edmond from the city.” He shrugged. “There is a church not far from here. I will leave you there, bound and gagged, while I return to St. Petersburg.”

  Hope shifted to anguished fear as Brianna laid a hand against her lower stomach. She knew nothing of carrying a child. It was not something discussed in polite society, and certainly nothing her mother would share with her.

  But she was intelligent enough to realize that such a tiny life would be a fragile thing that could be easily harmed.

  “I will freeze to death,” she breathed, not bothering to hide her terror.

  “There is the hope you will be found by a priest, or even that Edmond will arrive, before such a tragedy befalls you.”

  “Please…you cannot…” Brianna bit off her pleading words as Viktor’s eyes narrowed with disgust. It seemed entirely possible the heartless brute would simply toss her out of the moving carriage if she annoyed him.

  She had thought she was so clever in convincing him that his companions were destined to betray him. She just assumed that if he returned to St. Petersburg, he would take her with him.