Seduced By The Prince’s Kiss. Bronwyn ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
he’d be, Anna reflected sourly late the next morning. She was damp and cold after a rather soggy ride to the Shoreham docks, only to discover Stepan was not there. No one, apparently, had seen him yet and no one was expecting to. She stood in the shipping offices, shaking droplets from her wool riding habit and feeling foolish while she gathered her thoughts. She needed a contingency. She was reluctant to simply turn around and go home. She didn’t relish the thought of another hour of riding in the drizzle, but neither could she simply go on standing in the middle of the offices while Stepan’s clerk pitied her, his thoughts written plainly on his homely face about the sort of woman who came to the docks alone. It was embarrassing, really.
Anna was regretting her inability to follow Stepan directly. She’d not been able to leave when he’d left—which had been at sun-up. But she’d thought nothing of it at the time. He was going to the docks. She could simply follow later after Evie and Dimitri had left. But now, she had no idea where he was. She looked about the little waiting room. There wasn’t much, just a stove, a chair, the counter where the clerk worked, guarding the door to Stepan’s private office, and a loudly ticking wall clock. She flashed the clerk a smile. ‘I’ll wait a bit, if you don’t mind?’ It wasn’t really a question. She pulled the chair towards the stove. She could warm up and, with luck, Stepan would come striding through the door at any moment.
The heat felt good as she ran through possible explanations as to why Stepan wasn’t here yet even though he’d had a three-hour head start. Perhaps he’d had a delivery to make? Perhaps it was nothing so benign. Perhaps his horse had thrown a shoe and he was holed up at a smithy somewhere along the road. Even worse, maybe he’d gone home and even now was sitting comfortably in front of the fire, warm and dry. There was some irony in that, while she was cold and cross and still faced an hour’s ride home. Or perhaps he’d not told her the truth last night. He’d never intended to come to the docks today. The latter was seeming more likely as the minutes ticked by.
* * *
When she’d been there the better part of an hour, she had to admit he wasn’t coming. It did pique her curiosity, though. If he wasn’t here, where had he gone and why couldn’t he tell her about it?
She rose and the clerk eyed her from his ledgers with wary suspicion.
‘Could you possibly check his schedule diary? Perhaps I could meet him at whatever appointment he has?’ Anna asked sweetly, dazzling him with a smile that made the poor clerk blush.
He cleared his throat. ‘Mister Shevchenko is a private man, miss. I do not keep his calendar for him.’ There was a polite reprimand for her nosiness.
Would tears work? Anna wondered. They used to work a charm on Dimitri. They’d never worked on her father. ‘It’s just that I’ve ridden so far,’ she dissembled, looking down at her hands. ‘I would hate to turn back without seeing him.’
‘Oh, now, miss, don’t cry!’ The clerk sounded genuinely horrified. ‘Perhaps I could take a peep at his calendar, after all.’ He bustled away and returned shortly, wringing his hands. Bad news, then, Anna thought. ‘I am sorry, miss, there are no appointments in his diary today. As I said before, we are not expecting him.’
No appointments he wanted any record of, at any rate. Now she really did have to leave, there was no point in delaying. A glance out the window affirmed the drizzle had stopped. If she was lucky, the ride home would only be cold, but she had plenty to think about. Stepan had a secret. Was it a secret lover as she’d rashly guessed? Or something else? A little smile played on her lips as she walked back to her horse. Whatever Stepan was hiding, he didn’t want anyone knowing about it. Except that now, someone did know and that someone was her. For once, she had some leverage on him.
‘You lied.’
Stepan stopped in his tired, muddy tracks, the words cutting through the preoccupation of his thoughts. A lamp flared to life in the front parlour revealing Anna-Maria bent over the flame as she replaced the glass chimney, affirmation that he had not escaped. When he’d ridden up, the house had been dark and he’d known a moment’s relief. He wouldn’t have to face her, wouldn’t have to disappoint her, wouldn’t have to be tempted by her. Last night had been rather disastrous, in that regard. On top of the ale he’d drunk at lunch with the officers there had been the vodka sampling he’d done in caves when he’d visited the boys, all of which had induced him to sentimentality. He’d given her that silly box. Her eyes had gone soft and his body had gone hard.
‘What, per se, have I lied about?’ It was late, later than it had been last night. She should be abed, yet if he was honest there’d been disappointment mixed with his relief when he’d seen the dark house. A perverse part of him liked sparring with her. It was all he could have of her, this rather odd guilty pleasure.
She came towards him. ‘You lied about where you were today.’ She paused, letting her eyes rake his appearance. ‘You were not at the shipping office. In fact, Mr Abernathy informed me you had never planned to be there today. Your appointment diary was empty.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes blazing with grim satisfaction. She was waiting for his rebuttal. More than that, she was waiting for his explanation.
But she’d left herself open to a rather healthy counter-offensive. Stepan arched his eyebrow. ‘You went into Shoreham alone after I warned you about the docks last night?’ There was so much to be appalled with he wasn’t sure where to start. Did he start with the fact she’d ‘followed’ him when that could have exposed the entire operation? Or that she’d taken such a risk in travelling alone? That Abernathy had gone into his office and looked in his diary? He’d thought his young clerk was above reproach. ‘What did you bribe Abernathy with to sneak into my office?’ Stepan asked. ‘I’ll have to have words with him, perhaps dock his pay so that he learns his lesson.’
‘No!’ Anna cried. ‘It wasn’t his fault,’ she begged.
‘Oh? What exactly compelled him to look in his employer’s diary?’ Abernathy knew better. ‘You didn’t offer him money, did you?’ Stepan hoped not. If Abernathy could be bribed, it boded ill for the whole scheme. He would have to let the young man go.
A vice tightened in his chest. Please don’t let it have been for money. He didn’t want to believe he couldn’t take the street out of the boys.
‘No.’ Anna-Maria shook her head. ‘I have no money, you know that.’ He heard the resentment in her voice. Money meant freedom. He knew it better than anyone. ‘I just...’ She looked away from his stern gaze.
‘You just what?’ Stepan pressed, the vice in his chest easing a bit. He’d still have to talk to Abernathy about this breach, especially with Captain Denning in town. They couldn’t afford traitors, even small ones.
‘I smiled at him a bit. When that didn’t work, I sat in the waiting room for an hour hoping you’d come in.’ Anna-Maria bit her lip and gave a relenting sigh. ‘Then I got impatient. I might have used tears,’ she admitted with a quick rejoinder, ‘but it’s your fault. I never would have needed to do it if you’d been there in the first place. You told me you were doing accounts.’ She was tenacious in her anger. Heaven help a husband if he ever ran afoul of her.
At least it had taken Abernathy an hour to succumb. That did say something about the boy’s resolution. ‘Since when do I answer to you, miss, about my whereabouts?’
She gave him a long look that swept him from head to toe and lingered on his boots. ‘Since you can’t admit where you’ve been and come home with wet sand on your boots.’ Her gaze caught his. ‘That’s not the mud of Little Westbury.’ She stepped close to him, too close. He could smell the scents of lemon and lavender on her and she could smell him. She reached up on her tiptoes and sniffed near his ear. ‘Wind and salt, Stepan? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been to the seashore.’
She cocked her head, her sharp mind assimilating