No one had known. So how had Meredith discovered the truth?
“Wh-what?” were the only words she could manage to speak aloud, as wild thoughts whirled around her mind.
Was Meredith even old enough to understand the consequences of this for her – for both of them?
“What are you talking about?” Anne managed to say with a little more decorum.
Meredith smiled, and in that moment, she became the very image of Anne herself, at that age. Anne felt she was looking at a portrait taken of her at the age of thirteen.
“I heard someone speaking of it a few years ago,” her daughter was saying hesitantly, her cheeks pinking. “It did not take too much thinking to understand it fully. Please do not worry. I like having you as both sister and mother.”
Anne smiled weakly. And here she had been attempting to protect Meredith from what she already knew.
“I understand that it must remain a secret,” she was saying, “that I had to remain a secret. But…did Maxim find out? Is that why he has left us?”
Anne swallowed. If Meredith’s true parentage were ever public knowledge, she would experience far worse than Maxim’s confused anger.
But she was too old to be lied to.
Anne sighed. She certainly would not have chosen these circumstances to try and explain this all to Meredith, and if she were not careful, the tears she had not cried for the last thirteen years would all fall at the same time.
“Maxim does not wish to marry me anymore, and that does not mean he did not enjoy your company greater. It is not because of who you are, it is because of…something I said to him.”
Meredith bit her lip, and only in that moment did Anne realise that her daughter looked just like her when conflicted.
“I…I am not ashamed of who I am,” she said simply.
Anne reached forward and pulled her daughter close. “Good. Because you should not be. You are wonderful.”
Meredith’s voice came a little muffled, and jagged with emotion. “I love you, Mummy.”
How was it possible for Anne’s heart to break all over again? This precious child, this unique cargo she had carried through life and now had to watch venture further and further from her safe and loving arms…how would they ever be the same again?
How long they were in each other’s arms, she did not know. In a way, it was their first ever hug as mother and daughter, both of them fully aware of the truth, and Anne had to brush away a tear. Her daughter, and she was not a child anymore.
When Anne finally released her, Meredith’s eyes were a little pink. “I am glad you were able to explain it to Maxim. I would…I would hate for him to have the wrong idea, and for the two of you to fall out because of me.”
Anne bit her lip and tried to smile. It had all happened so fast, that conversation yesterday afternoon. Had she explained everything properly? Had she really listened to him when he had attempted to explain things?
“I know I cannot call you Mummy in society,” the younger girl said wistfully. “I shall have to remember to call you ‘Anne’.”
Anne smiled. “I will answer to either, you know that. I will always answer when you call.”
How could she ever have thought Meredith too young for St. James’ Court? Why, she was practically a young lady, and yet the child she remembered – giggling through the fields behind their home, learning how to play with the cat without getting scratched, the tantrums at the piano – that child was still there, too. In the eyes, perhaps.
“I am going to go open another present,” said Meredith, her voice cutting through Anne’s thoughts, “and I’ll let you wake up slowly. Join us if you feel able.”
She stepped away but paused by the door, looking back at her mother. “If Maxim did not hear the full story, perhaps he misunderstood. Perhaps you should talk to him.”
And with that, she was gone.
Anne fell back into the comfort of her pillows and felt her soul unsettled. Her heart still hurt, and if that was not love, she did not know what was. But was it too late to speak with Maxim? What would she say? She would not apologise for who Meredith was, or what she herself had done in the past.
Was it possible to make peace with a Czar at Christmas?
Maxim sank heavily into the chair, rubbing his sore eyes. His arrival into the room was met with laughter.
“My goodness,” Prince Éduard said, sitting lightly opposite him at the breakfast table. “I would say you were a sight for sore eyes, but I think it is you who has the sore eyes, not me!”
Maxim attempted to smile, but did not manage it.
“When you turned up outside my door at God knows what o’clock on Christmas morning, I was expecting a dramatic story!” Éduard’s smile faded. “And yet now I am minded to think it more a tragedy than a comedy.”
Maxim sighed. He knew his friend of old, and he would not be put off. “‘Tis a dramatic tale, you must admit. I went through it all last night, surely you do not need me to tell it again?”
Éduard shook his head as he reached for the teapot. “No, I think I have a clear idea of what happened.”
Why did his friend sound so calm? Maxim glared down at his plate. What was the point of food, if he had to live in a world in which Annika lived, but could not be his?
“Who would have believed it,” he said darkly, poking at a sausage. “A woman who looked so innocent could actually be so – ”
“Human?” Éduard said archly.
Maxim scowled at his friend. “If you do not want me here, cluttering up your home, I can just leave.”
The prince leaned back in his chair, examining his expression. “Do not be so insensé. I would never turn away a friend, especially a distant cousin.”
That was enough to make Maxim smile, just a little. “You have never told me how we are supposed to be related. What was it, third cousin twice removed by our great grandparent’s marriage?”
Éduard waved away Maxim’s words as he grinned. “The point is that we are both royal – and you, if you do not mind me saying so, have managed to create a royal mess for yourself.”
Maxim leaned forward with teacup in his hand, which was filled. “I do not know how you make that out. I was honest with her the entire time, from the very beginning of this sham engagement – ”
“Which was your suggestion,” interrupted Éduard.
“ – and yet all she did was lie to me,” continued Maxim doggedly.
His companion raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so it was common knowledge to everyone else then, I see.”
Discomfort rose in Maxim’s stomach. Well, anything would sound foolish if spoken like that. “No, it was a secret from everyone – I don’t think the child even knows.”
After taking a sip of his tea, Éduard frowned. “I am lost then, my friend. What made you think that you were special, nay, important enough to be told a secret that a father and daughter had kept for over a decade?”
“We were supposed to be getting married this afternoon!” Maxim exploded. “‘Tis only because of our late night conversation that we are having breakfast at this ungodly hour. I should be on my way to be married at this very moment!”
The cup of tea in his hand had spilled across the table. A brown stain moved steadily across the crisp white linen.
He was supposed to be getting married that afternoon. How had it all changed in just one conversation? Instead of finding his bed warmed by his delicious new bride, he was spending Christmas as the miserable guest of Éduard.
His host was shaking his head. “You fool.”
Without saying another word, he rose and stepped over to a cabinet. As Maxim watched, Éduard opened up the cabinet, took out a bottle of an amber liquid, and two glasses.
“You know, I would not normally do this at only one o’clock in the afternoon,” he said conversationally, “but it is lunchtime, I suppose, and it is Christmas. More importantly, you are an imbécile.”
Pouring a large measure of the liquid, he handed the g
lass to Maxim.
“Brandy?”
Éduard nodded. “France’s best.”
Maxim accepted it gratefully and poured the burning liquid down his throat. It brought him back to life in a way that tea never could.
“I admit it,” he said grudgingly, “it was a secret from the world, true, and so I was not particularly special in not knowing it. But damnit, Éduard, I wanted to be special! I was going to marry her!”
Éduard had poured himself a similarly generous glass of brandy, and as he sat back in his chair opposite him, raised an eyebrow. “I thought the only reason you had concocted this charade was because you two were found in a compromising position. Was it not a…comment dites-vous, mensonge…a lie, anyway?”
Maxim sighed, draining his brandy glass. Secrets and lies. Where do they mix, where do they meet? What was the difference in the end?
His mind returned to Annika. He had fought it, tried desperately not to dwell on her beautiful face, the way she had hurtled away, hurt by him.
“Your Czar charm won’t fool me.”
A smile crept across his face, unbidden. She was honest, their conversation free, every moment with her easy.
Their lovemaking had been wild and passionate, unrestrained. He had never experienced anything like her.
Was he really willing to walk away from all of that?
“You are a Czar,” Éduard said heavily, “or you should be, which is what matters. But right now here you are, in exile with a fellow exiled royal, in another country where you cannot be appreciated.”
Maxim’s heart softened. It was all very well for him to complain. He had a throne to go back to. His family, albeit distant, was still on the throne of Russia.
Éduard’s would never be going back to France.
“Yet you had the chance for something real, something that you could actually experience whether you were a Czar or not,” continued Éduard. “You had happiness in your grasp, and I say again, you were an idiot to lose it.”
“I-I, the idiot!” Maxim spluttered, his veins heated by the brandy. “I am no fool!”
“Yes, you are,” Éduard said calmly, placing his glass down and staring seriously at his friend. “After all this time you have spent looking for a throne, why not become the king of your own castle?”
Maxim stared. “Castle? The Marshes have no castle.”
Shaking his head and laughing, Éduard said, “No, ‘tis an English expression. To be king of your castle. To build a home. Mon Dieu, you had the chance to build a real life, not one in the clouds. Was it really worth throwing away for a little misunderstanding about medals?”
Chapter 12
Anne leaned back. “Well, I cannot eat another bite. Can you, Meredith?”
Meredith’s eyes were a little glazed over, a sure fire sign that she had overeaten. “Pardon?”
Sir Thomas chuckled as he looked at his girls. “Well, I have to admit, I am impressed by the fare the kitchens here have been able to provide. You never know, when away from home, whether the quality will be precisely what you are expecting.”
Anne placed a hand on her stomach. She had certainly eaten more than she had expected, but then, what was the point in attempting to remain slender? No gentleman would be calling on her any time soon, and with that disappeared any incentive.
Maxim had loved her body. No, Anne corrected herself silently, wincing at the very thought of him. Maxim had made love to her body. He had no real interest in her. As soon as he discovered the truth about her, the one secret she had, he had made it perfectly clear that he could not consider her as a bride.
“You really believed, after hurling accusations at me and revealing your own…history – you thought we could just ignore today and get married tomorrow?”
“Right then,” said her father, cutting through into her thoughts. “If we go now, we should be in time to see the royal family arrive.”
Anne sighed heavily. “May I stay here, in our rooms, Father? I am not feeling up to company today.”
Sir Thomas frowned. “We have to go, Annika. My goodness, ‘tis Christmas!”
Anne winced. That little pet name, once so beloved by her when only her father had used it, was spoiled now. Maxim had ruined it for her.
Meredith looked between them and then said loyally, “I do not wish to go either, Papa.”
Anne smiled, despite herself. Perhaps now that the truth was out in the open between them, they would become even closer. Perhaps there was joy to be found in this situation, even if her heart was breaking.
“Of course you do,” she said gently. “Do you not want to see the decorations, the candles, and the royal family?”
Her daughter squirmed in her seat. “There…there is a boy that I was hoping to see there.”
Anne looked over her head and mouthed ‘boy’ to her father. Sir Thomas shrugged and shook his head with a sigh.
“Well, if you wish to meet your gentleman friend, we will need to go,” he said aloud. “Come now, Meredith. Go and choose a piece of jewellery from your sister’s things, you deserve a treat this Christmas. And change into your court clothes, while you are there.”
Cheeks a little pink at the admission of a gentleman friend, Meredith obediently rose and stepping into her own room.
Anne leaned back and shook her head. “A gentleman friend. She is not even thirteen, Father.”
“It will be innocent enough,” he said bracingly. “Come now. You will need to change, too, and while you are changing gowns may I suggest a change in expression?”
“This was supposed to be my wedding day, Father,” Anne said fiercely, not bothering to keep her voice down. “I do not think it will be as simple as just deciding to be cheerful.”
Sir Thomas had risen and was pulling off his waistcoat to swap it for a more formal one. “Nonsense. You will enjoy it once we see the royal family. You do not know, maybe you could meet another gentleman and – ”
“No.”
Her word was so final that Sir Thomas turned to stare at her. “Anne?”
She smiled sadly. “Father, no more. I…my heart cannot take it anymore. Let us survive through today, maybe a few more days, and then let us go home.”
“But – ”
“I am going to get dressed,” she said calmly, rising to her feet as Meredith came back into the room. “My daughter needs her mother.”
Sir Thomas’ eyes expanded dangerously, and Anne could not help but laugh. Perhaps this was going to bring about a new change in her family? Perhaps they could all be more honest with each other, now all this misery had occurred.
“She knows, Father. She knows,” Anne said gently, touching his arm lightly as she passed. “Do not ask me how, but she does, and I think it is for the best. I will be back within twenty minutes.”
It seemed that only after a few minutes, the three of them were entering into the centre of the court. Despite her father’s words, Anne could already see that it would be a dull affair. Few people of any elegance were there, and there was no energy in the room, no vibrancy. The royal family, it appeared, were not going to attend.
Anne found herself breathing out slowly. So, Maxim would not be here. There was no chance of it if the Prince Regent was not going to be here.
The thought should have brought her joy, but instead it merely made her feel even more despondent. At this very moment, she should have been returning from the church, a married woman, to receive the blessing of the Regent. Instead…
“Now, Meredith,” Sir Thomas was saying very seriously, glaring at his granddaughter who was smiling and waving at a boy of about her age across the other side of the room. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?”
Anne knew she must step in. “Meredith, you are not to leave this room, you understand?”
Meredith raised her eyes to her mother’s, and likely for the first time, received a mother’s glare. “Yes, Anne.”
Anne smiled. “Then enjoy yourself. We will be here if you tire of
your friend and wish for our company.”
Her daughter nodded, and then instead of scampering off as she would have done merely days ago, she elegantly walked across the room, curtsying as she arrived at the family group where her friend was standing.
Anne felt a heavy hand on her arm, and smiled at her father. “She is quite safe.”
Sir Thomas sighed and shook his head. “That is what I thought about her mother.”
Anne grasped his hand. “Whatever you did, you did for the best. I am just sorry that I was not able to live up to your expectations.”
“Nonsense,” her father said, waving aside her words. “I am more sorry that I have…well, pushed you towards Alex Dmitri Maximilian Konstantine, or whatever his name was.”
Her stomach clenched, and her heart seemed to break all over again. She would have been his wife, and yet now she will never see him again.
“It has made you so unhappy, and that is unforgiveable.”
“No,” she said firmly, “please do not apologise. I know you intended the best for me, and I understand why. It is not your fault that your plans did not come to pass. We could not have known that my secret would ruin everything.”
There was a moment of silence between them, and then her father removed his arm.
“You are…more upset, than I thought you would be,” he said delicately.
Anne smiled wanly, and nodded. “Well, I do not believe either of us predicted that I would actually fall in love with Maxim, did we? I should have known secrets would come between us. I should have known a Czar at Christmas wasn't someone you could depend on.”
Someone tapped on her shoulder. “So, you are the Czarina, are you?”
Maxim’s heart was hardly beating, and he knew that because it was in his mouth. It had almost given out after he had forced Éduard’s horse to gallop far faster than it was able, and he had almost fallen over dismounting and rushing into St. James’ Court.
This was it. This was the moment he could win Annika back.
Did he deserve her? Probably not. Ever since she had stormed out of his bed chamber, he had gone over and over every word they had exchanged, and now in the cold light of day, could find little wrong with it.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 66