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Beauty and the Earl

Page 26

by Patricia Grasso


  His father was so happy, he told his wife to name their first son. And then regretted it.

  His wife named her son in honor of her father, her favorite cousin, her husband, William Shakespeare, and Saint George. She thought the name fit her son perfectly.

  On that idyllic June afternoon, the Earl and Countess of Stratford sat on a bench in their garden and admired their son. Alexander Rudolf Miles William George slept peacefully, oblivious to the admiring gazes of his parents.

  “My lord?”

  Both Miles and Amber looked up. Their majordomo hurried across the lawn toward them, a courier following behind.

  “A messenger from the Russian ambassador,” Pebbles said.

  The courier handed Miles a large intricately carved box with a mother-of-pearl lid. “Czar Alexander sends his regards and this gift to Princess Amber Kazanov.” The courier passed him a letter. “Ambassador Korsekov sends the earl this.”

  “Thank you.” Miles instructed his majordomo, “Take the man inside for a hot meal and a place to perch.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “A gift from your father and a letter from the ambassador.”

  “Open the ambassador’s letter first.”

  Miles broke the missive’s seal and perused the short letter. Then he chuckled.

  “What is so amusing?”

  “Do you want to know how the villains were punished?”

  Amber tore her gaze from her son and looked at her husband. “Does the punishment fit their crimes?”

  “Czar Alexander forced Fedor to relinquish control of the Kazanov fortune to your cousin Vladimir,” Miles told her. “Then he found the plainest, most contrary, unmarried lady he could and ordered Sergei to marry her.”

  Amber smiled with delight. “And Gromeko?”

  “The czar liberated the count’s slaves and forbade him to engage in the slave business,” Miles answered. “All three are forbidden—upon pain of death—to leave Russia.”

  “I am truly safe.”

  “Your father is protecting you.”

  Amber smiled at that. “Open his gift.”

  Miles set the box on the bench and lifted the lid. Inside on a bed of purple velvet lay several items.

  “This appears to be a legal document,” Miles said, unrolling a parchment sealed with the czar’s insignia. “Brace yourself, my love. Here are two proclamations, one in Russian and one in English, acknowledging Amber Kazanov as his true daughter. Though you and your progeny have no legitimate claim to the throne.”

  Strangely, her father’s public acknowledgment did not make her as happy as she would have thought. She looked down at her son. “I told you what a special boy you are, the official grandson of Czar Alexander of Russia.”

  “Here is a ruby and gold ring with the czar’s insignia,” Miles said. “Look at this.” He held up an exquisite jewel-encrusted gold chalice.”

  “How nice,” she said, making her husband laugh.

  “Darling, that is the understatement of the year.” Miles lifted two sealed missives. “One letter is addressed to his grandson to be opened when he reaches his majority. This one is addressed to you.”

  “Tell me what it says.”

  Miles gave her a puzzled smile. “You do not want to read this letter yourself?”

  “As you can see, my arms are filled with my son,” Amber answered. “Holding Alex is more important than reading a letter from a father I have only seen once in my entire life.”

  “Your father apologizes for the trouble his neglect caused,” Miles said, perusing the letter. “He wants to assure you that he cared deeply for your mother and would have protected her if he had realized what Rozer Kazanov planned to do. He considers you ‘a child of his heart’ and invites us to visit him whenever convenient.”

  Amber nodded absently, as if an invitation from the czar of Russia was insignificant.

  “What do you want to do about the czar?”

  “I will write him a letter and send him a miniature of our son.”

  “I am willing to travel to Moscow.”

  “I am not willing to travel so great a distance with my children,” Amber said. “Nor am I willing to leave my children in the care of others. The future will be soon enough for a visit to Moscow.”

  “Your father may not be alive at some future date.”

  “Then so be it.” Amber looked at her husband. “Czar Alexander had twenty years to be my father. I do not intend to lose one moment with our children.”

  Miles leaned close and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. Then he stood, walked the short distance to the rosebush, and plucked a rose for his wife.

  “Ouch!” cried the rosebush.

  Miles stepped back, startled, and then realized the rosebush sounded like his daughter. He peeked behind the bush and saw his daughter hiding there.

  Caroline laughed at her prank. She ran across the lawn, calling, “Mummy, can we make a happiness cake?”

  “Run inside and instruct Just-Pebbles to tell Mrs. Meade to gather the ingredients. Be sure you tell him what flavor you want.”

  “His name is just Pebbles,” Miles said, sitting beside her again and offering her the rose.

  “I called him Just-Pebbles. Is advanced age affecting your hearing?”

  Miles put his arm around her shoulder. He kissed her temple, inhaling her lilacs-and-sunshine scent.

  Amber lifted his mask with her free hand, planted a kiss on his scarred cheek, and then set the mask in place again. “I love you, my husband.”

  “And I love you, my wife.”

  Amber gave him a flirtatious smile. “Do you love me enough to let your stallion cover my mare?”

  Miles shouted with laughter. “I thought my sweet filly would never ask.”

  Amber looked down at her son. “Your father just called you a foal.”

  “You are incorrigible.”

  “You love me anyway?”

  Miles grew serious. “I love you enough to defy fire.”

  “I love you in equal measure,” Amber vowed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “You would defy fire to save me?” he asked.

  “Without hesitation.”

  “Do you love me enough to let me bake the happiness cake?”

  “No.”

  About the Author

  Patricia Grasso sold her first novel after five years of writing for nothing but love. Since that time, she has sold eighteen novels and won several awards including the National Readers’ Choice Award, the New England Readers’ Choice Award, the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice and KISS Awards, and the B. Dalton and Bookrak Awards for best-selling author. Her novels have been translated into fifteen languages and sold in twenty countries.

  Table of Contents

  Title page

  Dedication

  Reviews

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  About the Author

 

 

 


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