Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

He had been patient. He understood her need to be certain that his feelings were not driven by some ridiculous guilt and, more important, that he could be trusted with her fragile heart.

But the time had come to claim the woman who had stormed into his life and stolen his soul.

Refusing to believe that the butterflies in the pit of his stomach were actually nerves, Edmond led his beautiful companion down the steps and assisted her onto the waiting phaeton. Vaulting into the seat beside her, he took the reins from the groom and waited for the servant to leap onto the back of the vehicle before he set the matching bays into motion.

The early spring air was crisp, but the sun was warm and Brianna appeared content to enjoy the drive for several long moments. As he turned from Pall Mall onto St. James’s Street, however, she at last turned her head to regard him with a hint of puzzlement.

“You do not intend to tell me where we are going?”

He smiled as he concentrated on weaving his way past a coal wagon. “I do not.”

“Hmm.” Surprisingly she did not press for more. “Aunt Letty mentioned that Stefan is in London.”

Edmond shrugged. He had, in truth, been rather relieved to join his brother at his club the previous evening to discover that their relationship seemed none the worse, despite Edmond’s crazed behavior.

Stefan not only was resigned to Edmond’s determination to make Brianna his bride, but actually seemed pleased that his younger brother was so obviously caught in the coils of the beautiful young woman.

“There is some tedious bill or another up for vote in Parliament,” Edmond said, slowing to turn the carriage onto York Street. “He devoted near three hours to boring me with the details last eve, but I must admit that I caught little more than taxes and angry tenants. Such tedious business goes quite over my head.”

Brianna snorted at his offhand words. “Do you know, Edmond, your Aunt Letty is a mere amateur when it comes to playing the role of the silly aristocrat. You are the true master. I have seen you halt an entire revolution, if you will recall.”

A ridiculous warmth flooded his heart at her instinctive defense. Surely it revealed that she possessed some feeling for him?

“Actually, I left the halting of revolutions to Herrick while I was in pursuit of my beautiful fiancée,” he murmured softly. “I occasionally have my priorities in order.”

She smiled, but her expression remained guarded. “I am rather surprised that you have not returned to Russia. Surely they have need of you?”

Edmond frowned, wondering if she were hoping to be rid of him. Not the most encouraging thought.

“When Alexander Pavlovich returns to St. Petersburg, I will return to pay my respects, but have written to inform Herrick that I will no longer be actively involved in Russian politics.”

“Why?”

“Because I have more important duties that demand my attention,” he said, turning to her with a smoldering glance.

“Duties, eh?” A hint of amusement brightened her emerald eyes. “Is that what I am?”

His annoyance faded beneath a blast of pure lust. Christ. If he did not have this woman as his wife and in his bed soon, he was going to become a stark raving lunatic.

“A most beautiful and tempting duty that I plan to tend to with exquisite attention,” he promised, his voice thick with need.

She ducked her head, but not before he witnessed the answering flush of heat that stained her cheeks.

“Will the Romanov dynasty survive without you?”

With an effort, Edmond forced his attention back to the road. It would do his suit no good to overturn them in the gutter.

“In truth, I cannot say. Russia will always be a complicated mixture of tradition and enlightenment, of grandeur and wretched poverty, of effusive emotion and grim common sense. Perhaps such a country was not meant to have a comfortable crown to place on the head of their emperor.”

She was silent a long moment before she reached out to lightly touch his arm.

“You will always love the land,” she said softly.

He gave a nod. There had been a bittersweet pain in writing his letter of resignation. His duties to Alexander Pavlovich had given him a reason to crawl out of his bed each morning when he had been struggling through his darkest days, and he would never forget all that he owed his Emperor.

“And the people. But I am as much English as I am Russian, and I am no longer willing to play such dangerous games. Not when I at last have something to live for.” With a sudden tug on the reins, he pulled the phaeton to a halt. “Here we are.”

Brianna furrowed her brow as she studied the small but well-tended house.