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Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

Page 65

by Collette Cameron


  Anne had not expected the words to be so difficult to say, but there was a ringing silence in the room after them.

  Maxim rose to his feet. “Y-Your…”

  She nodded. Well, she had come this far. “I was…seduced, I suppose you could say, when young. A soldier, passing through our town. My father has raised her as his own, and borne my disgrace with silence. Maxim, I was no innocent when you met me.”

  Chapter 10

  Maxim’s jaw fell open.

  Had he heard those words correctly?

  “Meredith is my daughter.”

  Mind utterly overwhelmed, thoughts rushing around his brain, it was not possible to untangle them into rational understanding: but he could feel.

  Dread, confusion, anger: they swept through his body like a cold winter wind. As Annika stood there, staring at him as though waiting for a response, he could do nothing but stare.

  Everything that he knew – or thought he had known, more accurately – about this sweet, gentle, charming woman…

  His eyes raked over her, looking for a sign that she was lying. But no; everything before this moment had been the lie.

  “Daughter.” That was the only word he could manage, and it appeared that Annika was just as overwhelmed as he was. Without speaking, she nodded.

  She was a mother! That caring, nurturing nature, of course it had to come from somewhere. Annika was a mother. Meredith was her child!

  He could never have guessed, but now that he knew, there was a certainty in him that he should have guessed. They were so alike. Neither of them had mentioned their mother, and…had Annika ever described Meredith as her daughter?

  The realisation that he was not about to wake up from a nightmare came over him, and Maxim felt nausea rise in his stomach. Nothing but deep shock could feel like this. How was it possible to keep this from him, after all they had shared – after the passion they had experienced in the bed just feet from him?

  True, he had his own secrets, but he had always said he had a hidden past. Nothing he could tell her would be as dramatic as this.

  Annika’s eyes had not left his, and he watched her hands come together and clench nervously. She feared him, or at least, feared his reaction. And she was right to be. Only now did their conversation about Miss Emma Tilbury, the mistress of the Earl of Marnmouth, come into focus.

  Of course, she had argued in her favour. Was there very much difference between them, really?

  His gaze was caught by the bed in the corner of the room, and Maxim swallowed down the sadness that suddenly rose. He had not been her first. The pleasure he had given her had, perhaps, not even compared to what she had experienced with this, this, soldier.

  “Wh-Why did you not tell me sooner?”

  His splutter was genuine, but Annika narrowed her eyes as though he had attempted to accuse her of espionage.

  “I did not have to tell anyone,” she said defensively. “And after all, ‘tis not purely my secret. It belongs – belonged to Meredith too. I have no wish for my child to be judged wherever she went, haunted by the mistakes of her mother.”

  Maxim shut his eyes, as though not being able to see Annika would help him to understand her better. Child, mother, they were simply not words he could ever have imagined coming from her lips.

  And then something struck him and his eyes snapped open. “She does not know?”

  “Of course not,” Annika snapped, some of that fire returning to her voice. “What sort of monster do you take me for? I would not put that on a child, not an innocent who has known nothing but kindness and acceptance. I have allowed her to live an…an ordinary life. She has a much older sister. That is all she knows.”

  “Much older sister?” Maxim blurted out, hardly able to take the mocking laughter from his tones. “Annika, you are…you are an unmarried mother! God knows where her father is, and you think that I, a Czar, could marry a ruined woman?”

  Annika’s cheeks darkened, but her voice was forceful as she said, “I am not a ruined woman!”

  Maxim laughed drily and threw up his hands, almost falling into the chair behind him. If she was going to be so unreasonable…

  “I made a mistake!” Annika stepped forward, but stopped after a few steps, evidently unsure of herself. “A mistake that I am sure countless other women have made – and the mistake was thinking that he loved me. I do not regret Meredith, I could never regret her!”

  A curl of regret tied itself around Maxim’s heart. “I did not say that – ”

  “No one knows the truth, none save the two of us and my father,” she continued, her voice a little more forceful. “I have lived a…a normal life ever since. There is no reason why that could not continue.”

  Maxim laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Secrets always come out, eventually.”

  She joined his laughter, and it sounded awful coming from her sweet lips. “You would know all about that, would you not, Maxim? If that is your real name, which I am not minded to believe at this moment. After all, it was only today that your secret was published in the newspaper!”

  It took him a few seconds to realise what she was referring to. “Oh, you mean this tittle tattle about the medals?”

  “To think the whole of society is laughing at you,” Annika said with a physical shudder.

  Fury rose in Maxim’s heart. To be judged by such a woman, with such a mistake haunting her past! It was not to be borne.

  But as he looked up at Annika about to spit angry words, his heart softened. Even knowing what he did now, he could not despite her. She was Annika. Something about her clung on in his heart, his very soul cried out for her. He needed her, despite it all.

  “You are mistaken if you think those medals are my secret,” he said aloud. “Those blasted medals are nothing to do with it.”

  Annika’s face crinkled into a curious frown. “Then…then I think it is time that you told me about this secret of yours. There is no purpose in holding anything else back, after all!”

  It was impossible for Maxim to think; not with all this hurt and anger rushing through his mind. What harm could it do? They were not going to marry now, that much was clear, and no one would believe her anyway.

  “My secret is the best one – the truth!” He blurted out. The words seemed to arrange themselves without conscious thought, pouring from him after being dammed up for so long. “You think I do not hear everyone laughing at me, calling me pretender?”

  Annika nodded, unable to speak.

  Maxim laughed drily. “Yes, and I act like the perfect pretender, do I not? Eager to please, eager to see the Prince, speaking with as many earls and dukes as I can? Well, that is the only way to keep myself safe. I need Prinny to deny me my Czardom.”

  Annika was staring as though he had lost his wits. “But…but that does not make any sense.”

  “And that is why the plan was so brilliant,” Maxim said bitterly. “If there was any justice I would be confirmed as the Czar, but I would not last long. My brother was murdered, assassinated for even suggesting that our family line was the one that should have been on the throne. My sister, taken from us. I have no idea what happened to her, though I pray she is safe.”

  Now the words were pouring from his lips, it seemed impossible to stop. When was the last time he had spoken of Katarina? Months. Almost a year. And now he had merely alluded to her, he could feel the tears pinching in the corners of his eyes.

  Brushing away the burning liquid, he continued, “The more ridiculous I look, the more kings and queens of Europe refuse to confirm my birth right, the more likely it is that I shall be left alone. And yet I am the future Czar, or at least I should be. There. My precious secret.”

  Annika took a hesitant step towards him. “So…so your secret is that you never lied about who you were.”

  “I am Alexei Dmitry Immanuil Maximilian Konstantinvich, Czar of Russia,” Maxim said heavily. “But to be publicly confirmed as such…it would be a death sentence. I have to keep myself safe
, far better than I was able to keep Igor and Katarina safe.”

  Why did it feel so strange, sharing this truth with her? He had carried the secret for so long that it had become a weight around his neck, and now that he had shared it, he had thought he would feel lighter.

  But the tension and bitterness between them had not disappeared.

  “What about the medals?”

  Maxim sighed. “Damnit, Annika, you think I wanted to pawn them? But I was in desperate need of funds, and I had nothing else of value on me.” His hands twisted in his lap. “I should have known it was a mistake from the moment I walked into that place, but…but I was hungry. I needed coin, and for that I pawned my family’s honour along with our medals. I came into some more funds. I bought the medals back.”

  When he finally had the courage to look up, it was to see a softening on Annika’s face.

  “You…you should have just told me in the first place,” she stammered. “All these jewels you have given me…why – ”

  Maxim laughed bitterly. “What, and you would have believed me? When we first met, you wanted to be entertained. You did not want to hear the sad story of a royal house come to ruin. In my family, a gentleman does what he must to survive, and takes the sacrifices upon himself. Pawning my medals hurt me. Pawning family jewels would have hurt my future bride.”

  “Still,” she said, a little more firmly. “You should have told me, after we…”

  Her eyes flitted to the bed.

  Irritation rose in Maxim’s heart. “And you should have told me about Meredith! Do you not think that a husband deserves to know if his wife has any children?”

  “You would not have understood!” A little of Annika’s fire had returned to her voice. “No one would have, and I saw how you looked at Miss Emma Tilbury – and she had no child!”

  He waved away her protestations, feeling nothing but bitterness. “I was nothing but honest with you, and this is how you repay me?”

  “How was I to know that I would fall in love with you, actually desire this marriage?”

  Annika put her hands over her mouth, obviously shocked at the words which had come from her mouth.

  Maxim stood up slowly. His heart was pounding, his lungs jerking, trying to take in enough air, but there was not enough in the room.

  She was in love with him. She loved him.

  “How was I to know that I would fall in love with you?”

  The words rose up in his throat that he returned her affections: that he loved her, had loved her from the moment that she had crept into his bed chamber and asked for his touch.

  But he forced them down. He could not even countenance the idea of marrying a woman who had been…well, despoiled would have been the word he would have used for anyone else. Just thinking it about Annika felt wrong, but he could not help it.

  She had loved another man, conceived and borne his child.

  He had to be strong. His noble house could not be aligned with one such as her.

  “This has to end.” The words came out almost as a croak, and even as he spoke he had to force his hands to stay by his side and not reach out for her. Just the touch of her hand would be enough to overwhelm his resolve, and he owed it to himself, and to his house, to stay strong. “This must end now.”

  “End?” Annika was looking in confusion. “I do not understand. We know each other better now, all secrets are out in the open. Tomorrow, Christmas Day, we…we could…”

  Her voice trailed away at just the look of his face.

  “I cannot go through with the wedding.”

  Her eyes widened. “You…you cannot?”

  Maxim could not help but laugh now, and its bitterness was bile in his throat. “You really believed, after hurling accusations at me and revealing your own…history – you thought we could just ignore today and get married tomorrow?”

  “If we both care for each other,” she said in an insistent tone, “then every obstacle can be surmounted!”

  Maxim ignored the words. He would not admit the love in his heart, not now that she had broken it. “I was foolish to even consider a wife who wasn't royal, let alone innocent.”

  It happened in a moment. Annika stepped forward and gave him such a slap across the face that he staggered back, falling into his chair.

  “You are hardly innocent,” she said, fury dripping from her voice as she stood over him. “Two standards for royalty and commoners, for gentlemen and ladies…I should never have trusted you. Good day, Alexei Dmitry Immanuil Maximilian Konstantinvich.”

  She stormed out of the room without saying another word. Maxim raised his hand to touch his cheek, which was burning. The heat was nothing to the pain in his heart.

  Chapter 11

  Someone was pulling painfully at Anne’s arm. No matter how much she attempted to retreat into her own bed, eyes still firmly shut, they did not seem to go away.

  “Anne?”

  Anne frowned, eyes unopened. The last thing she wanted to do was wake up. Her headache, brought on by too many tears the evening before, still lingered across her temples. Why would she want to face the world? Why was someone trying to force her into consciousness when all she wanted to do was stay here?

  “Anne!”

  It was her father. His voice sounded concerned, but Anne brushed him away, pulling her arm under her bed linens. She did not want to speak with him. She did not want to speak with anyone.

  “I have to leave. See if you can wake her.”

  Heavy footsteps sounded, followed by the opening and shutting of a door. Anne sighed. Perhaps now she would be left in peace.

  “Anne?”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Meredith?”

  Something inside her, call it nature, a primal instinct, forced her to fully awake as her child said her name. Meredith was standing beside the bed, a concerned look across her face.

  “What is wrong?” Anne forced herself to sit up, her head aching and heavy. “Are you hurt, are you injured?”

  Meredith shook her head. She was wearing her favourite gown and her hair had been pinned up. The childishness of her features had completely gone with the adult coiffure.

  “Nothing is wrong, Anne,” Meredith whispered. She seemed to know that Anne’s head hurt, keeping her voice low. “It is almost luncheon, and you did not rise for breakfast. Are you feeling unwell?”

  Anne’s gaze shifted from her daughter to the clock over the mantlepiece. It was indeed almost one o’clock in the afternoon. Sunlight streamed around the drawn curtains, weak winter sun with no heat in it.

  “Luncheon?”

  Meredith nodded. Anne attempted to collect her thoughts, but they were so painful and so scattered that it seemed impossible to keep track of them all.

  Had she made a mistake by going to Maxim’s bed chamber last night? But she could never have proceeded with the marriage – the sham marriage, she thought bitterly – without knowing the truth about those medals.

  If only she had never read that newspaper. Had she made a huge mistake, thrown away the only chance she may have for happiness?

  But had she not already started to suspect that there was something more going on that he was not telling her? How could she trust a gentleman who had not told her the truth…or at least the whole truth, about his past?

  She would never have had a prickle of doubt, never confronted him, and never told him the truth about Meredith.

  She looked at her daughter. She had not been truthful with Maxim, that was true, but how could she? Who would understand?

  And of course, she had been proven right in the end. Maxim had not understood, and now there would be no wedding.

  “Anne?”

  Anne forced herself to focus. Meredith needed her, an anxious frown across her face.

  “Please do not concern yourself,” she said quietly, taking Meredith’s hand and squeezing it. “I am quite well but I…I did not sleep well last night. I chose to stay in bed which was rather lazy of me, I admit. Nothing is w
rong. I may just spend the day in bed, to recover.”

  She had intended her words to calm that puckered frown, but if anything, they had the opposite effect.

  “But you are supposed to be getting married this afternoon,” Meredith said in a rush. “Where is Maxim? No one has seen him, and you are sick.”

  No matter how hard she tried, Anne could not prevent her heart from sinking. He had warned her, right in that conversation when they had organised this sham of an engagement. Had he not said that he would disappear?

  “Miss Marsh can inform me on Christmas Eve whether she wishes to go ahead with the marriage. If not, I will disappear to France the next morning – I am due to see some friends there in any event – and Miss Marsh will be a jilted, sorrowful figure. One to claim society’s pity, not scandal.”

  It was hardly a surprise, but Anne could not have predicted the heaviness of her disappointment. It consumed her, like a fire, taking all joy and hope from her soul.

  She swallowed. The last thing she needed was for Meredith to see just how upset she was – but she was not a child anymore, not really. She deserved the truth.

  Some of it.

  “I am sorry to say that the wedding will not be happening this afternoon,” she said gently. “I…I discussed it with Maxim last night, and we decided that it was not the best thing for us.”

  Meredith’s frown disappeared, but it was replaced by sorrow. “It is because of me, isn’t it?”

  Anne’s heart froze as she tried to say calmly, “Of course not, Merry. Why would you think that?”

  Her cheeks pinked as she said, “Well, because…because I am your daughter, and he did not approve, did he?”

  If the entire bed had fallen over a cliff, Anne would not have felt any more astonished, fearful, and shocked. Her stomach dropped away as she looked at a child who would spend the rest of her life fighting against the prejudice of others.

  How was it possible? They had been so careful, so secret. Neither she nor her father had ever shared the secret with anyone. They had even travelled to France to have the baby, when her mother had been alive. Only a month later had they lost her, tragedy amongst new life.

 

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