She smiled ruefully. “It is a burden of position, to be always accompanied, to have constant companionship. It is not—”
“Why are you here?” he said abruptly, the question as startling to him as to her, perhaps more.
“I…” She paused for a moment, obviously considering her answer. “I need your assistance.”
“My assistance?” Surprise swept through him, and an odd touch of disappointment. “Whatever for?”
“Well, you see…” She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully and his stomach tightened at the familiar habit. “I am writing the history of my family, the House of Pruzinsky, and—”
“You’re doing what?” Disbelief sounded in his voice.
“I am writing the history of the royal family,” she said in the firm manner of a governess, contradicting everything he knew of her. “It is something of a scholarly endeavor, and—”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t believe you for a moment.” He laughed. “You’re not the type of woman who could ever be interested in anything scholarly. Frivolous or meaningless, perhaps, but never intellectual.”
“Frivolous? Meaningless?” Indignation snapped in her eyes and she stepped toward him. “I will have you know I was an excellent student as a girl. My tutors could not praise me enough. I speak six languages. I am not only familiar with the works of Aristotle and Descartes, but I understand them. I can list the names and major accomplishments, in order, of the emperors of Rome. I am well versed in Shakespeare and know complete scenes from a good number of his plays by heart.”
She moved closer, too absorbed by her defense of her intelligence to notice she was now a scant foot away from him. But he did notice.
“I can recite the names and dates of rule of every monarch for the last five hundred years of every significant power in Europe, including your own country.”
Near enough for him to reach out and—
“I know, and comprehend, the underlying reasons, as well as the obvious causes, for the major conflicts and wars among the nations of the world, including the complaints of those clever Americans who were intelligent enough to tell your barbaric country precisely where it could put its taxes and its tea!”
She stared up at him. Fire shot from her eyes. Passion shadowed every line of her body. Her blond hair moved in silken emphasis with every bob of her head. She was fervent and fascinating and abruptly he realized he’d lied to himself. For fifteen months, three weeks and four days he’d told himself he wanted nothing more to do with her. He’d sworn he didn’t care, perhaps he’d never cared. He’d promised himself, if he ever saw her again, he would treat her with the disdain she deserved.
Now he realized he wanted her as much today as he had a year ago. Nothing had changed that. Not her leaving. Not his broken heart. Not even his pride.
“And furthermore…” She glared up at him. He was a good half foot taller than she. He straightened, the movement bringing his body to within inches of hers. She was too caught up in her tirade to note their close proximity. Her scent, a subtle blend of exotic flowers and vague hints of foreign spice, wafted around him, and his stomach twisted with memory and desire.
“I well understand the flammable properties of hydrogen, as well as the basic principles of lighter-than-air flight. And I know most of the learned men in your field consider balloons filled with hot air to be considerably more dangerous than those filled with hydrogen because of the constant threat of fire to the balloon itself.”
“Aerostat,” he said absently, gazing into her green eyes and remembering how they’d darken in the throes of passion.
“What?” She shook her head with confusion.
“Aerostat. Remember?” His gaze dropped to her lips. Full and ripe and lush.
He hadn’t forgotten the feel of those sweet lips against his. He drew a deep breath and met her gaze. “We call them aerostats, not balloons.”
“Yes, of course. And I knew that too.” She stared up at him, eyes wide with… what? Apprehension? Desire?
Heat flashed between them. His gaze locked on hers and he struggled to breathe. To remember to breathe. “And those of us who fly them are aeronauts.”
“Indeed. I knew that as well.” She swallowed hard.
Without thinking, he lowered his head. Her chin rose. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was as if he were guided by an unseen hand. Of fate or destiny. Or, more likely, desire. Demanding and undeniable. His mouth moved closer to hers, even as he acknowledged kissing her, wanting her was entirely different than loving her. Loving her was a mistake that, this time, could well destroy him.
A mistake he would not make again.
His lips brushed hers and he whispered against them. “What do you want, Tatiana?”
“I want… that is, I need…” She sighed, and her breath mingled with his. “I need a husband.”
He stilled, his lips still lightly touching hers, her words as shocking as a splash of cold water. “What?”
“I need a husband. I need you”—she drew a deep breath—“to pose as my husband.”
“To pose—” He jerked back and stared down at her. “No!”
“Do hear me out before you say no.” She tilted her head in that beguiling manner that haunted his dreams. “Do you not want to know why I have made such a request before you say no?”
“Not particularly,” he said sharply. “Besides, I have already said no.”
“Not as far as I am concerned.” She waved away his refusal. “You simply cannot say no until you know why.”
“I can and I have.” His voice was firm.
She huffed in annoyance. “This is not at all gallant of you.”
“Do forgive me.” He swept an exaggerated bow. “I would not wish to be ungallant.”
“Excellent.” She beamed. “I knew you would change your mind.”
“I have not changed my mind.” Admittedly, though, he was intrigued by her persistence and could not ignore a touch of unwanted curiosity.
“Come, now, Matthew, I…” She stopped and stared, an expression akin to horror on her face. “You are not married, are you?”
“Not at the moment,” he said mildly. “And you?”
Her relief was palpable. As well it should be. She apparently needed him as her husband now, though it was a position she had once paid no heed to at all.
She shook her head. “I have not married… again.”
Again. The simple word hovered in the air. Again.
“So…” He picked up a short cut of pipe and hefted it absently in his hand. “Tell me why you propose this ridiculous charade.”
“It is an interesting story.” She turned away from him and paced, as if she needed time to choose the right words. “A half century ago, my aunt, the last hereditary princess before me—”
“Hereditary princess?” He raised a brow.
“A princess who is in line for the throne,” she said offhandedly.
“And you are a hereditary princess?” he asked slowly. “You can inherit your country’s throne?”
“After my father, if both my brothers were to perish, then yes.” She glanced at him. “They are extremely healthy and not at all prone to accident. I have no doubt my brother Alexei will be the next ruler of Avalonia, and that is as it should be. I have no desire to rule. Ever.”
“I see.” He hadn’t realized the importance of her position. Perhaps her note about responsibility was sufficient after all.
“At any rate, Sophia—that was her name—fled the country with her infant daughter after her husband was killed in an insurrection. She took only a handful of belongings.” She paused for a moment as if debating precisely how much to reveal, and Matt wondered idly what those belongings were.
“A few months after her arrival, she wed the Earl of Worthington, in effect abdicating her position and essentially severing ties with her home. She never sent her mother, my grandmother, more than a single letter. Aside from that, there is nothing kn
own of her life from the time she left Avalonia to the moment she married the earl. It is that story I wish to document.”
“Why?”
“Why?” She looked at him curiously, as if the answer were obvious. “Sophia was a member of the royal family of my country. One of a select line of hereditary princesses. Whether the choices she made in her life were right or wrong, she cannot be allowed to be forgotten.” Determination lifted her chin. “I will not permit it.”
“I see.” He supposed it made sense in a convoluted, feminine sort of way. “What I don’t understand is why you need me.”
She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I cannot go blithely around England demanding information about a lost princess. Not as myself anyway. It simply would not work.” She lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “You may not be aware of this, but many people are quite intimidated by royalty.”
“Really?” He stifled a smile.
“Indeed they are.” She nodded seriously. “However, Lord Weston and his wife, Lady Weston, Avalonian by birth—”
“Lord and Lady Matthew.”
“Are you certain? It doesn’t have the same imposing sound to it.”
“I am certain.”
“Very well, then. Lord and Lady Matthew can certainly retrace the steps of the Princess Sophia and meet with those who knew her. They will be much more willing to respond without censoring their words or being the least bit uncomfortable. Their comments will be honest and candid.” She flashed him a triumphant smile. “Now do you understand?”
“Not really.” He shook his head. “It seems like a great deal of trouble for a bit of insignificant information.”
“It is not insignificant. And I thought it was a brilliant idea,” she said loftily.
“It’s ridiculous. Aside from everything else, in my adult life I have never been known as Lord Matthew. My brothers have used their titles, but I have not spoken to them or anyone else in my family for the past decade. My sudden appearance as—”
“Perhaps you should.” Her tone was prim.
“Should what?”
“Speak to your family. Perhaps it is time. Ten years is an exceedingly long time, and it does seem that regardless of—”
“Enough,” Matt said firmly, ignoring the fact that he had been thinking much the same thing of late. He simply didn’t know how to go about it or how he’d be received. He certainly didn’t like to hear it coming from her. “My relationship with my family is not the issue at the moment.”
“No, I suppose not.” She glanced around at the assorted debris that made up his work. “Did I mention I am willing to pay you a great deal of money for your help? Enough to purchase a ship, if that is what you wish.”
“You did not mention it, but it makes no difference as to whether or not I will help you.” His tone was hard.
“And will you?”
He fully intended to refuse. “I don’t…”
She gazed at him hopefully, her green eyes wide with anticipation, and his determination faltered.
He tried again. “I can’t…”
She chewed her bottom lip and his mouth went dry.
“What I mean to say…” He sighed with resignation. “I will consider it.”
“I can ask for nothing more at the moment.” She cast him a brilliant smile, and he wondered if he’d ever really had a hope of turning her down. “I should like to proceed as soon as possible. If you would call on me tomorrow, we may make the arrangements.” She pulled a folded paper from the cuff of her pelisse and handed it to him. “This lists the names of three ladies Sophia mentioned in her letter. They apparently provided her shelter and assistance. I believe even the closest is some distance away. You will want to plan our travels accordingly.”
“If I agree.”
“If you agree. It also has the address of the house we are residing in, much more circumspect than a hotel. I wish to keep my presence in England discreet.” She handed him the paper.
“I will call on you tomorrow to give you my answer,” he said in a no-nonsense tone that even he didn’t believe.
“As you wish. Tomorrow, then.” She nodded and started toward the door.
“One more thing, Princess,” he said, surrendering to his curiosity.
She paused.
“How did you know all that? About the opinions of experts on the dangers of hydrogen versus hot air?”
She turned back and cast him an overly innocent look. “Why, my dear Lord Matthew, that was yet another lesson I learned as a girl. In the study of military history, I believe. One should know all there is to know about your opponent and never underestimate him.”
“Are we opponents, then?”
“I have not yet decided.” Tatiana flashed him a teasing smile, and once again his insides churned. “Have you?”
He stared for a long moment, then smiled slowly. “I don’t know.”
She laughed, turned away and sailed out the door to her waiting escort.
His immediate impulse was to turn her down flat. Of course, he could certainly use the money, even if accepting it would be something of a blow to his pride. In truth, he’d rather risk his life each day, living on his pension and his prize savings, working toward building his own fortune, than take her money. Still, some would say she owed him something. Why not money?
He watched a gentleman assist her onto her horse and ignored a twinge of envy. It was past time to admit, at least to himself, that he hadn’t put her behind him at all. He still wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted any woman. What he didn’t know was what else he felt about her. He’d long thought it was the abrupt, unexpected nature of their parting, the sense of a task unfinished, that had kept him from getting on with his life. Although he had rather thought he had gone on until now.
Regardless, there was no question that he had indeed loved her once. For a scant six glorious days he had loved her with the kind of intense emotion that strikes without warning and promises to last a lifetime. He leaned against the rough frame of the opening and watched the departing riders. Nothing but love could have hurt as much or lasted as long.
He lingered in the doorway until she and her companions disappeared down the road. And stayed staring, unseeing, long after that. It was obvious that she was involved in something beyond the writing of a family history. Regardless of her ardent defense of her academic accomplishments, she was not a scholar. Her explanation as to why she wished to retrace the steps of her aunt did not seem even remotely valid.
Accepting her proposal would allow him to finally put the past to rest, to finish that unfinished task. But this time, it would be on his terms, not hers. This time, if anyone left, it would be him. This time, his heart would play no role.
He turned from the door and unfolded the paper still in his hand. The address was in a well-to-do area of the city, not up to the standards of royalty, perhaps, but close enough. His glance slipped to the neatly penned list of women and his jaw tightened. Was this why she wanted his help? Did she realize the significance of the last name? Or was it simply some odd coincidence? Some quirk of fate designed to bring them together once again?
Whatever the answer, there was no question now as to his decision. He would indeed accompany her. He would find out precisely why she was back and exactly what she really wanted. He would pose as her husband and allow her to be introduced as Lady Matthew. Why not?
After all, for one brief handful of days in Paris a scant fifteen months, three weeks and four days ago, she had earned it.
Chapter 2
Tatiana walked toward the waiting entourage with a firm, steady step. She could feel Matthew’s gaze bore into her back. She kept her shoulders straight and clasped her hands together to still their trembling. It would never do to let him know how difficult it had been to see him again. How hard it had been to act nonchalant and lighthearted, as if indeed she had nothing on her mind beyond a silly memoir of her aunt’s travels.
When all she wanted to do was throw hers
elf in his arms and beg his forgiveness. Confess her mistakes, her cowardice, her weaknesses.
He was as vibrant as she had remembered in both appearance and spirit. Tall and handsome, his brown hair kissed golden by the sun, his face and forearms tanned from his work out-of-doors. He fairly quivered with suppressed energy. There was an intensity about him, the way he spoke and walked and even simply stood and stared, that bespoke of a man who would make his mark on the world.
As he had on her.
“Well?” Captain Petrov, Dimitri, stepped forward to help her onto her horse. “Did he agree?”
“No, but he will.” Tatiana allowed Dimitri to assist her into the sidesaddle and braced herself for the comments she knew would come. Katerina, Lady Kaminsky, the only other woman in the group, glanced from Tatiana to Dimitri and back, then cast the princess an encouraging smile and directed her horse to follow a few paces behind. Katerina too knew what lay ahead.
Dimitri swung himself up onto his horse and barked a brisk order to the riders. His well-trained men divided into lead positions or trailed behind, providing the illusion of privacy for their princess and their captain.
Dimitri edged his horse close to Tatiana’s. “Did you tell him the truth? About the jewels?”
“Of course not.” She settled herself in the saddle and ignored the censorious note in his voice. Dimitri and his cousin Katerina had grown up with Tatiana and, in spite of the differences in their stations, were still her closest—in truth, her only—confidants. He now served as a captain in the royal guard, and the widowed Katerina was her traveling companion.
“I fully agree with you on that point,” Tatiana continued. “I shudder to think what the consequences would be if our enemies knew the famed Heavens of Avalonia were missing. It is best to keep my true purpose here undisclosed for the moment.”
“Even from this man you claim to trust?”
“Yes.”
“I still think this plan of yours is ridiculous, not to mention highly improper and possibly dangerous.”
Her Highness, My Wife Page 2
