To Love a Horseguard

by Sheffield, Killarney

  “Well, Prince Peterlovsky, what have you to report?”

  “I have nothing new to report, Your Excellency.”

  “Then why are you here?” The tsar scowled clearly annoyed Dimitry would presume to take up his valuable time.

  “I have come to ask for your counsel on a personal matter, Your Excellency.”

  “What matter is this?”

  Dimitry shuffled his feet. “It is a matter of the heart.”

  The tsar set down his glass and smiled. “I see. This matter is such that my counsel is the only acceptable one?”

  “It is a matter of an international nature, and something I believe is in your means to rectify, if you so please to.”

  “Please, speak plainly.” He waved Dimitry to the seat beside him.

  Dimitry sat in the chair. “I suppose to put it rather bluntly; I am in love with a lady.”

  “Does this lady return your love?”

  “I have reason to believe so. The problem however, is that she is engaged to another and is powerless to break the agreement.”

  “Who is this lady and to whom is she attached?”

  Dimitry ran a hand through his hair. “The lady in question is the same Lady Rose whom I rescued from Sergi. She is engaged to a French marquis.”

  The tsar’s face tightened with disapproval. “Prince Peterlovsky, you should know better than to come seeking approval to start a war with the French.”

  “That was not my intent. I thought perhaps there might be a way around the situation. Perhaps you could speak with the English king and ask him to reconsider his approval of the lady’s engagement.”

  “Why should I do this thing for you?”

  “I have been a faithful servant to you, Your Excellency. If not for me, do it for the lady who was courageous in a very difficult situation.”

  The tsar shook his head. “You ask for what I cannot do. To ask another king to change his mind would be saying I have no respect for his rule. If there is no respect between our countries it is only a matter of time before we are engaged in war. Our country has had too much war these last few years.”

  “I understand, but—”

  “You dare question my wisdom, when you came to me seeking it?” the tsar roared.

  “No, Your Excellency, please accept my apology.” Dimitry’s hopes faded. “I am heart sore and did not mean any disrespect.”

  The tsar cast him a sympathetic look. “It pains me to see your heart torn young prince, but you will recover and find another who makes your heart beat fast and your palms sweat. Until then you must put this woman from your mind.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency. Please forgive me for taking up your valuable time.” Dimitry stood to leave.

  “I am honored you came to me. Perhaps next time I can give you the answer you seek.”

  Dimitry bowed and made his way from the palace. He mounted his horse and galloped to the docks. The tsar had kept him waiting longer than he expected. People scattered as he clattered down the cobblestone streets. When he reached the docks he pulled his horse up. The English ships were gone. He was too late. Rose was gone. He would never see her again. I never said goodbye.

  “Dimitry!”

  He spun his horse around.

  Victor stood on the dock. “She has already gone.”

  Dimitry nodded. “The tsar turned down my request.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Dimitry waited for his cousin to mount his horse. The two of them rode into St. Petersburg. When they arrived at Dimitry's palace they tossed their reins to a footman and headed for the study.

  Dimitry opened the cabinet and pulled out a couple of full bottles of vodka and two glasses. He set them down on the desk, filled the glasses and proceeded to drink himself into a drunken stupor to dull his pain. They drank in understanding silence for almost an hour, until the liquor began to loosen Dimitry's tongue. “I am stuck between three countries, Victor.”

  “I know.”

  He stared at the liquid in his glass, his heart burdened under a ton of emotional weight. “I love her, cousin.”

  “I know.”

  “What am I going to do?”

  Victor shook his head. “That I do not know.”

  Dimitry sighed. “I loved her from the moment I first saw her. Do you know what that is like?”

  “I cannot say that I do.”

  “I want her back.”

  Victor leaned across the desk and looked him in the eye. “You have to fight for her.”

  “How do I fight three rulers? I am but one man.”

  “I have no clue. All I know is there has to be a way. You cannot give up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You have been home for over a week, Rose, and yet you have not been out once. The marquis calls for you every afternoon and you still refuse him,” the Dowager Duchess of Ainsbury scolded.

  “I am not ready to see anyone yet, grandmother,” Rose ground out between clenched teeth, continuing to stare out the window at the rain coursing down the pane of glass.

  “There is to be a celebratory ball at the Kensington's this evening and I insist that you come.”

  Rose sighed. “I have no desire to go.”

  “Nonsense! You have moped around here long enough,” the dowager snapped. “You will be ready at eight o’clock sharp. I will send a note around to the marquis to pick us up.”

  “Grandmother, please—”

  “I will not hear another word about it, Rose!”

  She turned from the window and shot her grandmother an annoyed look. The dowager ignored her as she sipped her tea. Knowing arguing was futile, Rose stalked from the room and up the stairs to get ready for the evening.

  When she marched back down the stairs at eight o’clock, the marquis was waiting for her. He kissed her hand, and then straightened with a tight smile. “Lady Rose, it is lovely to see you well enough to attend the ball tonight.”

  She pasted a smile on her face. “I have my doubts I am ready for an evening out, but grandmother insisted.”

  “The dowager was quite right to insist; after all you cannot hide out here until our wedding. There are so many more plans to make.”

  Rose ignored his comment as her grandmother joined them. The marquis handed them their wraps and they hurried to the waiting carriage, where she stared out the window as the dowager and the marquis chatted. She wished she could have pleaded a headache rather than attend the ball tonight, but she was reasonably sure her grandmother would see through her ruse. She didn't feel like dancing and making merry when she was miserable. At least the rain stopped. After I make an appearance at the ball I can slip out into the garden and while away the time until grandmother is ready to leave.

  The carriage drew up to the steps of the mansion and Rose allowed the marquis to help her down. He gave her his arm and led her up the steps into the townhouse. They paused on the threshold of the ballroom as they were announced. The room quieted as her name was called and everyone turned to look at her. If Rose could have disappeared into thin air, she would have. It seemed all of London had heard about her kidnapping. Holding her head high she forced her feet to move. The crowd parted and whispered as the marquis escorted her to a chair at the end of the ballroom.

  “It seems you are the talk of London, my dear,” the marquis said, with an unenthusiastic look.

  She surveyed the room. Every time she caught someone’s eye they looked away as if she were a leper. What is going on? Her cousin Elizabeth made her way through the crowd toward her. “What is going on, Beth?” Rose asked under her breath when her cousin gave her a quick hug.

  Her cousin refused to meet her eyes. “Nothing, what do you mean?”

  “Everyone is looking at me strangely.”

  Beth's glance slid away from hers. “There have been a lot of rumors going around about you, and what happened in Russia.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Beth dropped her gaze to the floor. “This is really not the place
to discuss such things.”

  “What things?”

  “I have to go. Edward is probably searching for me. It is good to see you looking well. I shall call on you one day soon, Rose.” Beth hurried away.

  Rose watched her go. What sort of rumors are going around about me? She turned to the marquis. “Do you know what Beth is talking about?”

  He cleared his throat. “Ah, well yes, I do. Perhaps we could take a walk in the garden where we can discuss it in private.”

  She nodded with reluctance. He offered his arm and she allowed him to lead her from the ballroom. They walked down one of the paths until they came to a secluded corner of the garden.

  The marquis took her hand in his. “It pains me to tell you this, my dear, but your reputation is completely in shreds.”

  “I am afraid I do not understand. Why? I was kidnapped. It is not as if I ran away.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, you were un-chaperoned in the company of your kidnapper, and in the care of a Russian guard.”

  “Russian prince,” Rose corrected.

  “Yes, well, many people think there might be a different code of honor in Russia, but that is not the point. You, my dear, are soiled goods in the eyes of many.”

  “I see. Is that how you see me too?”

  His face took on a sinister expression. “Of course I do, but my father refuses to see the humiliation it will cause me. He thinks only of France and his bloody word.” He shoved her away into a large tree trunk.

  She winced as the rough bark scraped her tender skin. “You are hurting me.”

  His eyes glittered with malice as his fingers closed around her throat. “You made me the laughing stock of England, you spoiled wench.”

  Rose closed her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart and think of a way to reason with him. “Please my lord, release me.”

  “If I could kill you right now, I would, but rest assured I will make you pay for the rest of your wretched life for the damage you have done.”

  She shuddered and opened her eyes, trying not to show her fear and revulsion. “Let me go else I shall scream.”

  Instead of releasing her, he increased the pressure on her windpipe and she clawed at his hands terrified he would kill her.

  “The lady asked you to let her go.”

  The marquis released her and spun around. “What concern is it to you? She is my fiancée.”

  A man stepped from the shadows. Rose gasped when she recognized him. “Dimitry?”

  He gave her a brief nod but kept his eyes on the marquis. “I did not rescue the lady from a lecher like Sergi to turn her over to the likes of you.”

  “And who might you be?”

  “I am Prince Peterlovsky, the head of the tsar’s imperial army.”

  The marquis snorted. “You have no power here, Russian.”

  “Nor do you, Frenchman. I, however, have acquired a certain amount of respect from the duke and the English king, more than I am sure you would like to find out, should I repeat what I have just seen here.”

  The marquis glared at him. “Are you sure about that?”

  Dimitry crossed his arms across his chest. “Oh yes, quite sure, since the English king himself has requested my presence in his chambers tomorrow to reward me for my efforts on Lady Wellington’s behalf.”

  “I see.” The marquis looked unsettled, the smug smile slipping from his lips.

  Dimitry stepped forward. “In light of the circumstances, it would be prudent of you to withdraw your offer of marriage to the lady.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “You obviously have a problem with the circumstances of her kidnapping, so no one would fault you for withdrawing.” Dimitry frowned. “There is also a rumor circulating you have sympathies with the rebel Cossacks. It would be disastrous to France, or England, if those rumors were to be exposed, especially when you did nothing to rescue your fiancée.”

  Had it not been so dark, Rose was sure she would have seen the marquis grow pale at the veiled threat.

  The marquis hesitated, and then stepped back. “I think we have been out here longer than is appropriate, Lady Wellington.”

  Dimitry scowled at him. “I shall escort the lady back to her brother.”

  The marquis nodded and hurried away.

  Rose flung herself into Dimitry’s arms as soon as the marquis was gone from sight.

  He held her close for a moment before gently disengaging her arms from around his neck.

  “What are you doing here? Did the king really request your presence?”

  “I came because Victor convinced me I have nothing to lose.”

  She grinned. “He did?”

  “He did.” He looked into her eyes. “I came because I love you Rose, and I cannot imagine living another day without you.” He pulled her to him and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Rose’s heart leaped in her chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck unwilling to let him go.

  “There you two are.”

  Dimitry groaned and released her. Rose blushed, but did not release him as she looked over his shoulder at her brother.

  John grinned. “I believe the gossips’ tongues have wagged enough for one night.”

  Rose sighed and stepped away from Dimitry to straighten her dress.

  “I see you had a chat with the marquis.” John glanced at Dimitry with a small smile as they walked back to the mansion.

  Dimitry cast him a rueful grin. “Was it that obvious?”

  John chuckled. “It will be a while before he forgives you. He looked fit to be tied when he left.”

  “I cannot say it pains me or my country overly much,” Dimitry answered.

  They entered the ballroom. All eyes seemed to focus on them as they crossed to the dowager's side.

  “Grandmother, may I introduce Prince Dimitry Peterlovsky, who saved our Rose from the clutches of the Cossack madman.”

  The dowager smiled, seemingly completely taken with Dimitry as he bowed and kissed the back of her hand. “Well young man, it seems we owe you a debt of gratitude for returning my granddaughter to us.”

  “Think nothing of it. It was my honor to return her to you.”

  “Jonathon, have you seen the marquis? He left looking very upset.”

  John winked at Dimitry. “I believe we have seen the last of him, grandmother. It seems he has decided to look elsewhere for a suitable bride.”

  The dowager looked back and forth between the two. “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps you could explain it, John. I believe Lady Rose owes me a dance.” Dimitry held out his hand.

  Rose smiled and placed her hand in his. They walked out on the dance floor amid whispers.

  Dimitry bowed, “Will you do me the honor of this dance?” he asked, loud enough for all to hear.

  Nodding she allowed him to draw her into his arms just as the orchestra began to play a waltz. She forgot about the spectators as he twirled her around the room. His warm, firm body so close to hers made her heart pound. She inhaled his familiar scent and sighed. When she looked up he was studying her with an amused took and her face heated in response. “I missed you, your smell…among other things.”

  He chuckled. “I will use the same soap for the rest of my life if it makes you so content.”

  Rose sighed. “I wish we could just stay like this.”

  “Dancing?” He raised an eyebrow.

  Rose giggled. “Maybe. Actually, I meant together, but it is impossible.”

  “Why?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I am still engaged to the marquis.”

  Dimitry smiled. “Do you think the king, or the dowager duchess would not consider a prince who has saved your life more than once far more suitable than a mere duke who was too weak-willed to come to your rescue?”

  “His king forbade him come.”

  Dimitry snorted. “I disobeyed my vows to the tsar for you.”

  She raised a delicate eyebrow. “You did, how so?”<
br />
  “I am here am I not?”

  “The king asked you to come.”

  “No, I came for you, Rose. I have petitioned the king for an audience with him tomorrow. I merely called the marquis’ bluff when I told him your king sent for me. There will be hell to pay when I return the tsar’s ship and crew.”

  She bit her lip. “Will you lose your position as the head of his army?”

  He shrugged. “Would you still love me if I was a plain old prince?”

  Rose grinned. “Yes, how could I not?”

  Dimitry smiled, the love in his eyes clear to see. “Let us get out of here before I kiss you right here in the middle of the ballroom and really set the gossips’ tongues waggling.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rose awoke and snuggled closer into Dimitry’s arms. He chuckled and kissed the back of her neck. “Careful,” he warned, “if you insist on wiggling your lovely behind in such a suggestive way we might end up in bed the whole day.”

  “So?” She giggled.

  He chuckled. “I think the tsar will not be in the mood to wait for me to finish making love to you before he arrests me.”

  Rose sobered. “What will I do if he arrests you?”

  Dimitry kissed the back of her neck again. “You will wait for me. I may be too old to make love by the time I escape from Siberia, but rest assured I will return to you,” he teased.

  “I am serious, Dimitry!” she scolded, “I think Victor is becoming a bad influence on you.”

  “Come my lady wife, it is time we got up. We shall be anchored in the harbor within the hour.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I think I like the sound of that.”

  Rose rolled onto her back and ogled his well-formed backside. “What?”

  He stood and padded naked over to the trunk containing his clothes. He cast Rose a knowing look as she watched him with a hungry stare. “I like being able to call you wife.” He grinned.

  She laughed and rolled onto her side. “I like it when you call me wife. Come here and say it again.”

  Tossing his clothes on top of the trunk, he returned to the bed and leaned over her. “I love you, my lovely lady wife.” He lowered his lips to hers.