Scandalous Deception

by Rosemary Rogers

  His dark broodings were interrupted as the connecting door was thrust open and Vanya left the bedchamber. Edmond walked forward, but not swiftly enough. Before he was even halfway across the room, the wily woman had turned the key in the lock and tucked it into her pocket.

  “How is she? Is she awake? Did she eat?”

  Vanya gave a lift of her brows. “She is weak, but awake. And yes, she did eat.”

  “Then I will visit her.”

  He held out an imperious hand for the key.

  “No, Edmond, she does not want to see you.”

  “Dammit, Vanya, I need to be with her.”

  Vanya skirted past Edmond’s looming form to pour herself a small glass of sherry.

  “Yes, you have made your needs quite clear, Edmond.” Turning back to him, she regarded him with a disapproving expression. “In this moment, however, I am more concerned with Brianna’s needs.”

  “She is upset. She does not know what she truly wishes.”

  “Actually, she seems inordinately certain of what she wishes, or more precisely what she does not wish. And that is to be in your company.” Vanya narrowed her eyes with unconcealed suspicion. “What did you do to her?”

  Feeling oddly defensive, Edmond shoved his fingers through his tousled hair. “I did nothing.” He gave a vague lift of his shoulder. “She simply overheard me speaking with Herrick.”

  “Were you discussing another woman?”

  “Mon dieu, of course not.”

  “I do not know why you appear so surprised,” Vanya sternly chastised. “Brianna is convinced you are on the point of replacing her with another.”

  “Never.”

  “There must be some reason she is displeased with you,” Vanya insisted. “What did you say?”

  Edmond hesitated, strangely embarrassed to confess the truth.

  “I was attempting to halt Herrick from arranging my imminent wedding.”

  “To Brianna?” Vanya demanded, her voice pitched low so that it would not carry to the adjoining bedchamber.

  “Yes.”

  “And she overheard you refuse to have her as your bride?”

  With a surge of restless annoyance, Edmond paced toward the window, not surprised that the panes were thick with frost. It was well past midnight and the night air was brutally cold.

  “I have made no secret of my determination never to wed, as you well know, Vanya,” he said, his voice harsh. “It has nothing to do with Brianna.”

  “No, of course not,” Vanya said dryly.

  Edmond turned back to glare at his companion. “Besides which, Brianna has informed me on half a dozen occasions that she has no desire to take on a husband or family, so why she should be so angry defies all logic.”

  Vanya waved aside his perfectly reasonable words. “A female has no need to be logical, and in any event, there is no woman who would not be offended to have her lover proclaim to the world that he will not have her as his wife. It makes her wonder if she is somehow lacking.”

  “Which is precisely why I wish to speak with her.”

  “And what would you say to her, Edmond?” Vanya stepped forward, her expression troubled. “That she is convenient to trifle with when the mood might strike you, but not worthy enough to claim a permanent role in your life?”

  “Would you prefer that I lie to her, Vanya? That I make promises that I cannot keep?”

  “Why can you not?” She gave a wave of her heavily bejeweled hand. “Brianna is charming, beautiful, and obviously she brings you happiness. Any gentleman with the least amount of sense would be proud to call her his wife.”

  “I will not—” Edmond bit off his words, refusing to admit his reluctance to take Brianna as a wife was out of fear that some dreadful fate would await her. Vanya would think him a lunatic.

  “You will not what?”

  “I will never wed.”

  “Why, my dear?” With a frown, Vanya stepped close enough to place a hand on his arm. “It is obvious that you care very much for Brianna. Why are you so opposed to the notion of marrying her?”

  “I will not discuss this, Vanya.” He stepped stiffly away from her touch, his features hard with warning. “Not with you or anyone else.”

  “Fine.” Shaking her head in disgust, Vanya moved toward the door leading to the corridor. “Then you will lose her.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said that you will lose her,” Vanya readily repeated, pausing at the door to turn and stab him with a resigned expression. “Already, Brianna is planning her return to England.”

  “I am aware she desires to return to London so that she can meet with her solicitor and gain control of her inheritance,” he said slowly. “I will accompany her once she is fully healed.”

  “She did not mention having you accompany her. Indeed, she was fairly determined that she would be returning alone, so that she could set up her household without interference.”

  “That is only because she is currently unhappy with me. Once she has recovered her temper, she will realize she is being ridiculous.”

  Vanya heaved a sigh. “Edmond, I love you as if you were my own son, but there are times when I want nothing more than to slap you. Let go of the past, before it is too late, my dear.”

  “This has nothing to do with the past!”

  “Oh, Edmond.”

  With a last pitying glance, Vanya slipped from the room and disappeared down the corridor.

  Left on his own, Edmond slowly sank onto a wing chair and allowed his heavy lashes to lower. Damn his supposed friends and their unwanted interference.

  THREE DAYS LATER, EDMOND WAS forced to reconsider his arrogant assumption that Brianna would come to her senses and forgive him. The stubborn minx was determined to keep him at a damnable distance.

  No matter how often he visited, she remained stoically aloof, her face wan and her beautiful eyes empty of expression.

  It was almost as if it were merely her ghost that remained tucked beneath the heavy covers, while her essence had retreated so deep he could no longer touch her.

  He had attempted every means to provoke a response from her. Teasing, goading, even bribery, but nothing could stir her from the strange lethargy. He might as well have been invisible for all the attention she offered.

  Awakening on the fourth morning, he stormed into Vanya’s breakfast room, which was hung with green damask and filled with charming Chinese vases and jade figurines. He was relieved that Monroe had been called to the Palace so he could speak with the older woman in private.

  It was not often that Lord Edmond Summerville found himself at a loss, and his pride had taken enough of a beating without having his admission of defeat made public.

  Vanya was seated on a birch settee next to a gilt table that was nearly hidden beneath the large tray of eggs and toast and delicately stewed eel. Attired in a rich brocade gown that had several large emeralds sewn into the bodice, her hair pulled into intricate curls to frame her handsome face, she appeared every inch the Russian noblewoman, an image that was only enhanced as she watched his furious approach with no more than a lift of her brow.

  “Good morning, Edmond. Would you care for some tea?”

  “No, I bloody well do not want tea,” he snapped, the heels of his glossy boots clicking loudly on the polished parquet floor. “I want you to tell me why Brianna treats me as if I no longer exist.”

  “I cannot converse with you while you pace my floor like a caged beast,” Vanya chastised. “At least have the decency to take a seat so I do not have to crane my neck.”

  “Dammit, Vanya, I am in no mood to be polite.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Sipping her tea, Vanya met his smoldering gaze with a faint smile. “Is she refusing to see you again?”

  Edmond shoved impatient fingers through his hair. “She might as well. When I do visit, she treats me as if I am some vague stranger. Hell, I would rather she damn me to the netherworld than regard me with that perfected indifference o
f hers.”

  “She is still recovering, Edmond.” Vanya slowly set aside her cup. “You must have patience.”

  The smooth explanation did nothing to ease Edmond’s annoyance. Indeed, it only stirred yet another of his grievances.

  “Is she recovering?” he demanded, his voice thick with disbelief. Vanya’s lips parted, and he held up a slender hand. “Oh, I have heard the doctor claim that her wound is healing and that there is no infection, but I do not need to be a damned sawbones to see that she is far too pale and thin. When I cornered him this morning all he would say was that it was perfectly normal and that her appetite would return in time.”

  Something rippled over the lovely face. Some mysterious emotion that was gone so swiftly that Edmond could not fully capture it.

  “We must trust his judgment,” she said vaguely.

  Edmond narrowed his gaze, sensing that there was more to Brianna’s illness than he was being told.

  “Actually, I have no need to trust anything the fool might have to say.” A cold smile touched his lips. “I have called for Herrick’s surgeon to examine her later this evening.”

  Vanya rose to her feet, an unexpected anger hardening her features. “Edmond, that is not at all necessary.”

  “It is my decision to make.”

  “No. It is Brianna’s decision to make, and she is perfectly satisfied with the care she is being given. She will not thank you for your interference.”

  Edmond’s suspicion that he was not being told the full truth of Brianna’s condition was swept aside by a sharp pang of regret.

  “She will not thank me for anything at this moment. She is…”

  “What?”

  “Slipping away.”

  Vanya’s expression softened. “I did warn you, Edmond.”

  Edmond resumed his pacing. “She is doing this because I will not wed her?”

  “I cannot say what is in someone else’s heart, but I believe any woman with the least amount of intelligence would be wise enough to protect herself.”

  Edmond stiffened. “I would never hurt Brianna.”

  “Not intentionally.” Vanya was swift to soothe. “But, my dear, I know you. You have enjoyed the attentions of dozens of women. Why should Brianna not be preparing herself to become nothing more than a fading memory?”

  “Because I have no damned intention of making her into some fading memory.”

  Vanya clicked her tongue. “Of course you do. It is inevitable. And you are only upset because it was Brianna who chose to pull away before you could do so. Your pride is pricked.”

  “For God’s sake, this has nothing to do with my pride.” He pointed a finger at his hostess. “And I can assure you, there is no way in hell that I will allow her to escape me. Not ever.”

  Vanya regarded him with a searching gaze, her expression wary. “Edmond, what are you saying?”

  The instinct to retreat from the intrusive question was near overwhelming. He disliked displaying his emotions as if they were a public spectacle for others to enjoy. He was beginning to accept, however, that revealing his feelings was going to be the least of the sacrifices demanded of him.

  “I…” Grimly he forced himself to continue. “I care for Brianna.”

  Vanya was remarkably unmoved by his stunning admission. “We all care for Brianna,” she said with a wave of her bejeweled hand. “She is a sweet, gentle child who has confronted the difficulties in her life with an amazing dignity.”

  “I do not think I would ever claim her as gentle,” he said dryly. “She possesses the heart of a tigress, and she does not mind using her claws when necessary. Do you know, she blatantly blackmailed me when she forced her way into Huntley House?”

  Vanya clicked her tongue. “My point is that caring for her is quite different from being devoted to her. She is…vulnerable and you could do considerable damage without ever meaning to harm her.”

  “I have just told you that I want her in my life.”

  “For now.”

  “Forever.”

  Vanya slowly lifted her brows, her expression skeptical. “Forgive me if I find your sincerity difficult to believe, Edmond.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you refuse to make her your wife,” Vanya replied, her expression accusing. “If you are truly dedicated to her, then you would want to make your relationship permanent.”

  “For God’s sake, it is because I care for her that I refuse to put her in danger.”

  There was a long silence as Vanya attempted to comprehend his unspoken fears.

  “The traitors have been captured, and so far as I know, there are no others that wish to abduct the poor girl.” She offered a faint smile. “Of course, she may wish to flee once she is threatened with the prospect of facing the Romanov Court.”

  Edmond’s features remained set in grim lines. Alexander Pavlovich and the numerous difficulties of negotiating the dangerous waters of the Russian Court were worries for another day.

  “You cannot understand,” he muttered.

  “Not unless you explain, my dear,” Vanya said, moving to give his arm a light squeeze. “Tell me why you hesitate. Does it have something to do with your parents?”

  Edmond closed his eyes against the age-old pain that slammed into him. “They died because of me.”

  “No, Edmond. It was nothing more than an accident.” The older woman patiently waited until Edmond forced open his eyes to meet her steady gaze. “It had nothing to do with you.”

  Edmond had heard the meaningless words too many times to take comfort in them. “They would never have been on their yacht that night if I had not been in trouble with the Magistrate.”

  Vanya’s fingers tightened on his arm as she gave an impatient shake of her head.

  “And who is to say that they would not have died in a carriage accident on the way to some social event? Or succumbed to the fever that ravaged Surrey only a few weeks later?” she demanded. “You are not God, Edmond, as much as you enjoy playing the role. You do not possess the power over life and death.”

  “You can say what you will, Vanya, but because of my decisions, they died. I will not have that happen to another.”

  “Another?” Vanya stilled, as if struck by a sudden, unwelcome realization. Then, without warning, she reached up to gently pat his cheek. “Oh, my dearest, what a heavy burden you have been carrying.”

  “If it is a burden, then it is one of my own making.”

  “No, it is not, and you have punished yourself long enough.” With a brisk motion, Vanya took a step backward and squared her shoulders, as if preparing for battle. “Edmond, I knew your mother for near forty years, and I can tell you that the one thing she desired above all others was for her sons to be content in their lives.” Her eyes narrowed with a stern determination. “To seek happiness is not betraying your parents’ memory. Indeed, it is the only true means to honor them.”

  With jerky steps, Edmond moved to peer out the window. The thick clouds had at last parted to allow the morning sunlight to reflect off the snow with a breathtaking brilliance, making the streets appear to be dusted with diamonds. Farther away, he could make out the silhouettes of skaters and pedestrians that crowded the Neva.

  There was something almost magical in the sight of St. Petersburg on winter’s morning, but Edmond barely noted the beauty spread before him. Instead he forced himself to actually consider Vanya’s accusation.

  “I do not seek to punish myself,” he at last said, more to reassure himself than to convince the older woman.

  A good thing, since she was shaking her head as the denial was tumbling from his lips.

  “That is exactly what you are doing.” She deliberately paused. “And worse, you are punishing that lovely young lady who lies upstairs. She deserves better.”

  Edmond abruptly turned, for the first time forced to consider the notion that, in his determination to protect Brianna, he had actually managed to hurt her even worse. His heart twisted at the painful memo
ry of Brianna’s ashen countenance and wounded eyes just before she had literally and figuratively slammed the door in his face.

  Ignoring Vanya’s speculative gaze, Edmond slowly paced across the parquet floor, struggling to make sense of the chaos that ruled his mind.

  What if…

  The entrance of a maid brought his relentless pacing to a halt.

  “Your guests have arrived,” she announced.

  “Thank you, Sophie, that will be all.” As if sensing she had managed to plant the seeds of doubt in his mind, Vanya swept majestically toward the door, a satisfied smile curving her lips. “Just think upon what I have said, my dear.”

  Edmond watched Vanya sweep from the room before turning to glare out the window. He had sought out the woman for answers, not to be chastised as if he were a child. And to make matters worse, he could not dismiss the stinging reproach.

  He remained lost in dark thought until the sound of heavy footsteps intruded. Turning, he found Boris at the door, his caped coat dusted with snow and his glossy boots thick with mud. With a flick of his hand, Boris tossed a brown-wrapped package toward Edmond, the scent of freshly roasted chestnuts filling the air.

  Edmond caught the package with a grimace. He had sent Boris to purchase the treat in the hopes of tempting Brianna’s appetite. A worthless task over the past days.

  “Did you come across a bit of rancid eel in your breakfast this morning, Summerville?” Boris demanded, his arms folded over his chest.

  “What the devil…you know very well that I detest eel, Boris.”

  “Then there must be some other reason for you to look so ill. Perhaps I should summon a doctor.”

  Edmond frowned. “I am not ill, I am annoyed. I cannot comprehend why women must complicate what should be a simple liaison.”

  “Take heart, old friend. My mother would tell you that if a woman is not creating trouble in your life, then she no longer cares.”

  His stomach clenched in dread. “Damn.”

  Boris stepped forward, indifferent to the mud now marring the parquet floor. “That was supposed to offer you a measure of comfort. There is nothing wrong with Miss Quinn, is there?”

  “Not physically. I have been assured that the doctor is satisfied she is healing in a suitable fashion.” He managed a humorless smile. “You have no need to worry that Janet will be awaiting you in London with a sharpened knife.”