Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“Title?”

“Baron Voglevich.” Herrick offered a formal bow. “I hope it suits you?”

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Dimitri was struck speechless.

He was aware that Alexander Pavlovich could be unpredictable, and certainly Dimitri had performed several dangerous tasks to protect the czar from potential uprisings, not to mention the information he acquired on the streets that he provided to the Winter Palace.

Still, he had never expected to receive a title.

Hell, he never wanted a title.

In his mind the men of society were worthless buffoons fit for nothing more than to provide easy plucking at his gaming houses.

It was Emma who at last filled the shocked silence.

“Do you mean—”

“I mean that when you wed, you will be the Baroness Voglevich,” Herrick gently completed her faltering words.

Dimitri clenched his hands, forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath.

“Why?”

“He is aware of the numerous services you have performed for the empire,” Herrick explained. “This is his means of offering his gratitude.”

Dimitri grimaced. “I would have preferred a large donation of rubles.”

“You have all the wealth you will ever need and, to be honest, the royal coffers are notoriously bare.” Herrick deliberately glanced toward the stunned woman at Dimitri’s side. “And now you have a bride to consider.”

Emma snatched her hand away, her eyes wide. “I have no desire for a title.”

“Nonsense.” Herrick regarded her with a stern expression. “You shall soon become accustomed to being a member of society. And your children, of course, will be grateful for the opportunities offered by their positions.”

Dimitri heaved a rueful sigh as Emma struggled against Herrick’s sly manipulation.

Clearly, they had been outmaneuvered.

Emma at last offered a reluctant laugh. “You do not fight fair.”

“Never.” Herrick clapped his hands together, a satisfied expression settling on his gaunt face. “We should toast your good fortune.”

“I have a better notion.” Dimitri pointed toward the door. “You will return to Vanya’s lovely party and I shall concentrate on pleasing my wife-to-be.”

Having achieved his goal, Herrick readily strolled across the floor.

“Of course. Oh, I suppose I should also mention that Czar Alexander has begun the arrangements for your wedding. He thought June would be a suitable month,” he murmured, his footsteps never slowing despite Dimitri’s and Emma’s protests. “And, Emma, I have requested that our English relatives travel to Russia for the ceremony. I had no notion there would be so many. Let us hope they will leave once the wedding is over.”

He swept from the room, leaving the two of them shaking their heads in disbelief.

“Good Lord,” Emma muttered.

“It would seem you shall soon have all the family you ever desired,” he said dryly. Then, noticing her pallor he pulled her into his arms, his hands running a comforting path over her back. “Emma?”

“Baroness.” She blinked, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders for support. “My head is spinning.”

He brushed a soft kiss over her mouth. “Do you still love me?”

“Of course.”