Seduced by the Prince's Kiss

by Bronwyn Scott

  Was she aware of it? Of the current that ran between them? Did she understand the sparring between them was not truly out of anger, but out of that nebulous something called chemistry, a subconscious attraction? They were testing each other, trying each other, like a buck tries a doe, chasing her to ground over the course of a few days before mating. And like a worthy doe, Anna-Maria wasn’t afraid to play hard to get.

  Whether or not she was doing it deliberately was another question, as was whether or not she wanted him to catch her. She’d made it clear she wanted to be caught by no one, not just yet. In light of that declaration, he had to be the responsible one, as always. He had to protect her dreams, whatever they were, from anyone who posed a threat to them, including himself. Including her. Had she stopped to consider what a flirtation with him might carry as a consequence? Or, in true Anna-Maria fashion, had she simply thrown herself into it headlong without a thought for the results?

  At the top of the stairs, Stepan paused, hand on the knob, before going in. He felt guilty for having left her so long tonight. Regardless of the tension between them, she was alone in a strange house with no company. Alone was something Anna-Maria had no experience with. Wasn’t that what she’d been trying to tell him tonight on the front porch? Unlike him who was far too familiar with being alone, Anna-Maria had always been surrounded by people. He would have to apologise for that, too; perhaps a shopping trip was in order. Perhaps he could take her into town for hair ribbons for the assembly? He’d placated women in such a way before, usually with prizes more substantial than hair ribbons. In Kuban, placation had come with jewels: a pretty diamond tiara or a ruby bracelet.

  No. He would not classify Anna-Maria with those women. Those women had been mistresses, not ladies. Buying and selling had been part of the negotiation between them. He would not reduce Anna-Maria to that. She would want his words, his sincerity, not hush gifts. Inside, the house was dark. Alone or not, Anna-Maria had found her way to bed. His apology would have to wait until morning.

  * * *

  Stepan rose early, vowing to do his apology right. He propped the invitation to the assembly at Anna-Maria’s plate where she would see it when she came down for breakfast and he put aside his morning obligations to wait for her. He was nonchalantly reading his paper and drinking his coffee when she came down. He glanced up with a smile. Anna-Maria looked fresh in a gown of apple-green wool trimmed in white cotton lace at the collar and cuffs, her hair tucked in a neat chignon at her neck.

  Stepan rose, determined to be on his best behaviour. Dimitri would expect it of him. Dimitri had entrusted his sister to him. He needed to start earning that privilege. ‘Good morning. I trust you slept well? I am sorry business kept me out so late last night. It was inexcusable of me on your first night here.’

  ‘I did sleep well, thank you.’ Her eyes landed on the invitation. ‘What is this?’ She opened it, her gaze scanning the contents. Stepan had expected her to smile, to see her face explode with joy. But her brow furrowed. ‘The mayor’s assembly? Stepan, you don’t have to do this.’ She shook her head as she set the invitation aside. ‘I should have stayed up last night and waited for you so that I could apologise right away.’ She took her seat. ‘I behaved badly and I spoke out of turn. You have responsibilities here and I have imposed on them for selfish reasons. I was frustrated and I took it out on you. You don’t have to make it up to me.’

  He’d never thought an apology could be so...stunning. Whatever lingering remnants of girlhood he might have attached to her were vanquished with her words, the words of a mature, grown woman who was aware of her actions and took ownership of them. She had always been beautiful to him, but this was a beauty that went beyond the skin. He felt as if he were seeing her for the first time.

  How well did he know Anna-Maria?

  It was a heady and dangerous sensation to think the girl he’d once known had changed into a woman he had yet to discover—that he wanted to discover.

  ‘Then we are both forgiven,’ Stepan said, nearly rendered speechless by the revelation. For a few moments, time was suspended as they regarded one another over the breakfast table. Meanwhile, her plate was still empty, he realised belatedly. His manners had left him entirely. ‘Coffee?’ Normalcy would return with routine actions. He reached for the pot to pour. ‘You said you were frustrated last night. About what?’

  He moved to take her plate, loading it with eggs and ham. If she could play the lady, he could play the gallant gentleman. She was not just the sister of his friend, she was a guest in his home, rented though it was. The nascent beginnings of a different fantasy teased the corners of his mind—a fantasy where he had a home of his own and a wife at his breakfast table. No more fictions where homes were leased for a temporary sense of place, or families borrowed from friends.

  A home of his own. A family of his own. The impossible.

  She met his gaze, startled by the question. ‘It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure I can.’ She settled her napkin in her lap, but he would not let her dismiss her thoughts.

  ‘Try me.’ He found himself impatient for the answer. What dreams, what hopes might she reveal? What might he learn?

  ‘I am eager to go to London, that is all. So much time has passed since my arrival in England and nothing has changed. I feel as if I am falling behind somehow, or perhaps I feel I’ve been left behind.’

  Stepan nodded. ‘I remember Nikolay saying the same thing to me when he met Klara.’ It was not only Nikolay. Stepan felt it, too, that restlessness that came with watching others launch. He felt it more so now that the others had settled into their own lives.

  He’d spent years cobbling together a makeshift family of friends to fill the void of his own non-existent family, and now even that was gone. There was no one left to watch over. Except his boys in the caves. Perhaps that’s why they meant so much to him. He was filling the void. But Anna-Maria didn’t have such a void to fill. ‘You’re surrounded by people who love you: your brother, Nikolay, Illarion.’ He waved a hand meant to include all her brother’s friends. ‘You’ve not been left behind.’ All their wives included Anna-Maria in their circles when they visited.

  If anything, Anna’s circle of friends had grown to include Evie, May, Claire and Klara. She had a faithful correspondent in Beatrice Worth. And she was a doting, loving young aunt with all their children. She would make a remarkable mother. His chest constricted at the image of Anna-Maria with a dark-haired toddler at her skirts, another baby in her arms. He pushed the image away, excusing it as a tag-along remnant of his earlier impossible fantasy. Such things had always been impossible, but he was a smuggler now and that put the fantasy even further out of reach.

  She shook her head. ‘It’s not the same. Everyone has gone on to find their own freedom and I have none. I can’t even pay for that glass I broke without asking my brother.’ Her tone was bittersweet.

  ‘You needn’t ask him then. I will settle with Worth...’

  He realised his mistake before she spoke. ‘No, that’s just it. I don’t want a man to settle anything for me; not you, not Dimitri. I want to settle things for myself. Being here in Shoreham is the first time I’ve been free.’

  ‘It’s the first time you’ve been alone,’ Stepan corrected.

  ‘One is the price for the other, is it not?’ she asked pointedly, her gaze fixed on him. ‘It’s the price of your freedom.’ For a moment he felt exposed, as if she saw too much of him against his will. What would he do if she guessed at why he had to be alone? Then she softened. ‘Even here, I am not really alone. I am with you.’ She did not mean for it to be insulting. ‘And the worst of it is, I don’t know any more what it means to be with you.’ She looked away, suddenly shy in the wake of her boldness.

  With him. If she only knew what those words did to him. ‘You are with me as you’ve always been with me.’ True lies indeed. But how could he possibly acknowledge the chang
e between them without upending the precarious world they clung to? Without disappointing Dimitri who was counting on him to keep Anna-Maria safe? Without disappointing her? And yet the curiosity remained. What would it be like if she were truly ‘with him’? For her own sake, he could not press her to find out. She wanted freedom. He could not give her that. Being with him would strip her of all chance at freedom. Eventually, she would add that to the list of things she’d never forgive him for. She wanted to fly and he had to let her.

  Stepan cleared his throat and tried for levity. The water was too deep for him here. If he lingered in these thoughts he would drown. ‘As for the immediate future, I hope “with me” means you’ll come to the assembly. I have to go. I am an esteemed importer in these parts. I need a lady by my side if you could be enticed?’

  She gave him a saucy smile, the one he was used to. ‘Well, if it’s a favour to you, I will go. But...’ she paused, emphasising the ‘but’ with teasing fervour ‘...you will owe me.’

  Stepan nodded. ‘I will owe you, most sorely.’ He pulled a purse from an inside pocket. ‘You might need a few things for tonight. If so, you may accompany me to the docks, if it suits, and then take the carriage to the shops.’ It wasn’t truly freedom. She’d be spending his money and Mrs Batten would be with her, but it was a start. He knew for a fact Anna-Maria had never gone shopping alone. In Little Westbury she’d always been surrounded by Evie and Claire and their friends. And Little Westbury had little to offer in the shopping line. As the nearest Channel port to London, Shoreham would naturally have a larger selection.

  Anna-Maria beamed and scooped up the purse. ‘If it suits? You know perfectly well that it does.’

  Chapter Seven

  Tonight she was going to dance! Anna held her pink skirts in one hand and took Stepan’s hand with her other as she stepped down from the carriage, careful to avoid mud on her slippers, a soggy reminder that this was not London, not by a long shot. The discordant sound of musicians tuning their instruments streamed out of the well-lit tavern, as people bustled inside in high spirits: men in dark evening wear like Stepan, or in the brilliant red coats of officers; women in gowns of a variety of colours: pastel muslins for young girls, deeper colours for the matrons. To be sure, the gowns lacked the fancy trimmings of London fashion and the tavern assembly room lacked the grandeur of a London ballroom, but to Anna-Maria it was perfect.

  Stepan’s hand was steady at her back, reminding her to keep a rein on her own high spirits as she impatiently waited their turn in the receiving line. She wanted to dance! ‘Soon,’ Stepan chuckled at her ear, divining the reason for her impatience as they inched forward. Stepan reached for the dance card dangling at her wrist. ‘Shall I claim my two dances, then, before they’re all snatched away?’ He wrote his name beside the first set and then for a waltz later in the evening. There was no sense in letting Evie’s lessons go to waste. ‘Ah, look, it’s our turn.’ He ushered her forward. The mayor was a portly man used to good living, his wife likewise. Both were pleasant and exceedingly pleased at having a prince attend their function. They practically fawned over Stepan, and Anna had to hold back the urge to laugh. Didn’t they know he was just Stepan? ‘Have you met Captain Denning yet, your Highness?’ The mayor turned to the scarlet-clad man on his left.

  ‘Yes, we’ve met.’ Anna sensed Stepan’s posture tensing as he greeted the man and made the appropriate introductions. ‘Captain, may I present Anna-Maria Petrova, lately of Little Westbury?’ The captain took her hand and bowed over it.

  ‘It is a pleasure, Miss Petrova. I trust you are enjoying the sea air?’ The captain’s eyes lingered on her and she felt a flush creep into her cheeks at the attention, which seemed a touch too much for an introduction, but Anna was flattered all the same. The captain was a handsome man in an austere sense and had a commanding presence in his uniform.

  She felt the pressure of Stepan’s hand at her back. Perhaps he sensed the slight impropriety, too. He was eager to usher her along, but the captain stepped at such an angle that movement was prohibited.

  ‘Before you go, permit me to claim a dance, Miss Petrova.’ The captain was all gallant charm as he reached for the card. Stepan stiffened behind her. Only when the captain was done signing did he step back and allow her to pass.

  ‘You were surly with the captain,’ Anna commented as they entered the crowded room.

  ‘He is less gallant than he appears,’ Stepan answered in low tones. ‘I don’t like you dancing with him.’

  She tossed him a smile. ‘It’s only one dance, I wouldn’t worry.’ Her dance card filled up swiftly after that as Stepan moved them around the perimeter of the room, introducing her to his associates. Truth be told, the attention was flattering. Men were eager to claim a dance and everyone was so polite—even the captain had been nice despite Stepan’s misgivings.

  The musicians struck up the opening of the first set, calling all dancers to the floor. Stepan bowed and offered his arm. ‘It’s our dance, Anna-Maria.’ His eyes held hers for a long, steady moment and the thrill of awareness coursed through her. The message of his eyes was unmistakable. Tonight, she was his—his to escort, his to protect, although from what she couldn’t imagine here in the safety of the dance hall. They took their places at the head of their group as the music started. She curtsied to him. He bowed to her and they moved into le tour de deux mains, hands intertwining as they danced around one another in stately precision, Stepan’s grey eyes intense on her own.

  ‘You look stunning tonight. I don’t think I’ve told you yet. I should have mentioned it sooner. It’s no wonder your card is full.’ He smiled.

  It occurred to her how handsome he was when he smiled. His face was transformed; he looked young. He was young, she reminded herself. Stepan was only thirty-one. If they’d stayed in Kuban, he would just now be taking up his official place at court. But it was easy to forget when he frowned. ‘You should smile more,’ she said as they came together again. ‘You’re rather handsome when you do.’

  ‘And you are a consummate flatterer, Anna-Maria. I suppose I’ll do.’

  ‘You’ll more than “do” and you know it,’ Anna shot back. ‘You’re quite the finest man in the room, redcoats notwithstanding.’ She meant it lightly, but the air about them charged with her words and she had the distinct impression she’d put a pink-slippered toe over an imaginary line she wasn’t supposed to cross. Stepan’s grey eyes burned like charcoal as they made the final figure of the pattern and he relinquished her to a new partner.

  But the awareness raised by his touch, by his gaze and by her words didn’t leave her. She was more conscious of him than ever. Her gaze slid to him even as she made conversation with her new partner. Stepan was indeed the handsomest man in the room, his broad shoulders and long legs shown to perfection in well-tailored dark evening clothes. Pristine linen peeked from beneath the paisley silk of his silver waistcoat, an expensive but not ostentatious opal stickpin winking in the folds of his cravat. Stepan cleaned up well.

  Perhaps that was where the awareness sprang from—the novelty of being dressed up, of being out in society such as it was in Shoreham. When was the last time she’d seen Stepan dressed for an evening out? Not for ages. Likely not since Kuban when he would have stopped by their home to gather Dimitri up for a palace ball. And yet, part of her knew better. The awareness sprang from something deeper than the novelty of simply dressing up. It sprang from the realisation that if she was his for the night, then the reciprocal was also true. He was hers. He’d led out the first dance with her to make it clear to all present. For the night, they belonged together. Whatever that meant. She didn’t want to take the idea out and examine it too closely for fear of discovering it meant very little indeed. Instead, she smiled, and laughed and danced with all the spirit she possessed. She refused to spend a moment of this wonderful evening worrying about what happened when the clock struck midnight and they became ordi
nary Stepan and Anna-Maria once more: the stoic man and the unwanted house guest.

  * * *

  Stepan discreetly checked his gold pocket watch. Five minutes before midnight. Joseph Raleigh would have the caravan of tub men and their protectors on the move by now. In his mind’s eye he could track their progress through the winding trail up the Seacrest bluff and into the twisty back paths of Shoreham to where the rough country lanes met up with the main road to London. They would meet with no resistance tonight. Every officer was here dancing away the night and impressing the merchants’ daughters. Everything was going like clockwork, or nearly everything.

  Stepan grimaced as Anna-Maria danced by in the arms of Captain Denning. He’d wager Denning wasn’t thinking about smugglers right now. The only thing he was thinking about was how to whisk her away for some privacy. Denning acted entirely enthralled by Anna-Maria, which didn’t make him unique, Stepan mused. Every man in the room had been captivated by her. Including himself. He’d been captivated the moment she’d come down the stairs this evening, that pink muslin whispering against her ankles as her skirts belled about her. Pale pink made some women look uncommonly girlish. Not so with Anna-Maria. The pastel shade was the ideal foil for her walnut-dark hair and porcelain-smooth skin: the perfect rose. On a matching ribbon about her throat was strung a crystal heart that caught sparks of the light as she danced. It was a simple piece of jewellery, but she wore it with elan, as if it were diamonds.

  She passed by again, laughing at something the captain said, her eyes merry as she flirted. Stepan’s temper rose irrationally. Never mind that she was quite the distraction for the captain. He didn’t like the thought of her flirting with Denning, perhaps as she’d flirted with him? Was she telling the captain he was the handsomest man in the room? Was she telling him how well he looked in a smile? The captain wasn’t worthy of those attentions any more than the naturally vivacious Anna-Maria was guilty of his condemnation.