Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard (32 page)

“Kit did not betray me!”

Cyrus let out a bitter laugh. “Of course he didn’t. He swore up and down he didn’t know where you were, but I knew that to be a lie. The idiot thought he was protecting you when he was bringing us all to ruin.” He cut her a defiant look. “He left me no choice, so I searched his room and found the letter.”

Vivien pressed a hand over her stomach. Aden had warned her not to contact anyone, but she’d known Kit would be sick with worry if he didn’t know she was safe. She’d only written him once, and strictly instructed him not to tell anyone where she was.

“You had no right to do that,” she said in a tight voice.

“And you had no right to run away without a word to your family,” Cyrus snapped. “Mamma was beside herself, as you can imagine. I’ve had to listen to her hysterics for two weeks now, not to mention dealing with all her creditors.”

Vivien dug her nails into the cushioned arms of the chair. “If you were a truly affectionate brother, you’d protect me instead of using me as a means to pay off your debts and further your career. Papa would have been horrified to see how you’ve treated us.”

“Our father was as big a fool as every other person in this family,” Cyrus sneered. “And what did you expect me to do? Stand by and watch while the whole lot of you pulled the family name through the mud? Your own behavior, I might add, has been little better than that of a trollop.”

“That is enough, Lord Blake.” Prince Ivan’s cold voice cut like a lash through the room. “You will not insult my future wife, even if she is your sister.”

Vivien’s heart stuttered. She knew what Khovansky wanted, but to hear him announce it so boldly robbed her of breath.

“Apologize to Lady Vivien,” Khovansky said, never taking his eyes off Cyrus.

Her brother glanced at her, then at the prince. What he saw there obviously frightened him as much as it did Vivien. He gave her a stiff little nod. “Forgive me, Vivien,” he said in a resentful voice.

Her mind finally broke free of the insanity of the moment.

“Prince Ivan, I have not agreed to marry you. I will return to London, if I must, but you cannot force my hand. Threatening or harming my servants will not achieve your desired result, since no minister will perform the ceremony once he learns that my acquiescence to your demands was achieved by duress.”

Prince Ivan tilted his head, letting his gaze drift over her before extracting a gold-plated snuffbox from an inner pocket. Leisurely, he availed himself of a pinch then dusted off his hands before deigning to answer her. “Ah, but you will gladly acquiesce, my lady. You see, I hold your family’s fortunes and future in the palm of my hand.”

Shocked, Vivien stared at her brother. “Cyrus, what is he talking about?”

When he could barely meet her eyes, she grabbed his sleeve and shook. “Is it true?” she demanded.

Anguish flashed across her brother’s face and Vivien’s heart plummeted. A moment later, Cyrus shook off her restraining hand and shot her a haughty glare. “His Highness has generously taken on the burden of both Mamma’s and Kit’s debts. As you know, they are quite extraordinary. Combined with the mortgage on Blake House—”

“Which you took out to finance your blasted career,” she said hotly.

“—and the cost of the repairs to the estate in Somerset,” Cyrus continued, “we have been brought to a standstill. Without the aid of Prince Ivan, we should all wind up in debtors’ prison.”

“How much do we owe him?” Vivien asked in a horrified whisper.

The amount Cyrus named was staggering. Vivien’s head swam, and she had to take several deep breaths to wrestle her panic under control.

“So you see, my dear Lady Vivien,” Prince Ivan said, looking down at her with a hideously possessive glint in his eye, “your family owes its continued position in society—indeed its very existence—to me. Of course, when you are my wife, then your family will become part of my family. I shall do everything in my power to see them prosper. In fact, it will be my fondest wish to do so, because I know it will give pleasure to
you.
”

She stared into his protruding, toadlike eyes and read the triumph there. The walls of the room seemed to close around her and she found it hard to breathe.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Surely there must be other women who would welcome your attentions.”

One eyebrow shot up. “I should think it obvious. I love you.”

“And this is how you show your love, by threatening my family and blackmailing me? That is the behavior of a cad, sir, not a prince,” she exclaimed.

She expected him to bristle at the insult, but a chilling smile stretched his broad features. The malicious intent in his gaze made her stomach churn.

“Ah, Lady Vivien, I cannot tell you how much I look forward to our wedding. You are spirited, but you must learn obedience to your husband. I believe I will greatly enjoy schooling you into a properly behaved wife.”

Bile rose in her throat and Vivien had to swallow hard to keep from choking. She cast a desperate glance at her brother. “Mamma will never agree to this.”

Grimly, Cyrus reached into the pocket of his greatcoat, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to her.

Vivien tore it open. Moments later, she crushed her mother’s plea for her to marry Prince Ivan with shaking fingers. “Cyrus, what did you do to make her agree to this? Mamma knows how I feel about him!”

“I simply told her the truth,” her brother replied.

“You mean you threatened her,” she responded bitterly. “And what about Kit? He wouldn’t stand by and just let this happen.”

Cyrus barked out an ugly laugh. “He has no choice. Kit is halfway to debtors’ prison, or worse.”

Vivien stared at the crumpled piece of parchment in her fist. Her mind pushed her brother’s words away, reeling with stunned disbelief. Desperately, she clutched at the one thing that could save her. “No. Captain St. George will never—”

Prince Ivan flung a hand out, almost hitting her in the face. “My patience runs out, Lady Vivien. Your brother has explained the circumstances to you and you will accept them. If you do not, ruin awaits your entire family.”

He leaned down to her, his florid complexion flushing almost the shade of clotted blood. Vivien tried not to shrink away but she couldn’t help herself. The insane arrogance of the man rolled off him, like the scent of a bitter, noxious herb.

“And if you value your precious captain’s life,” he said, his accent growing ever more guttural, “you will never mention his name to me again. I leave his life in your hands.”

Cyrus pressed a hand to her arm, looking almost as desperate as she felt. “Come now, old girl. It won’t be so bad. You’ll be a princess. You’ll never have to worry about money again, nor will Mamma or Kit.” He gave her a sick smile. “And I’m sure the prime minister and Prinny will think it a splendid thing. Why, think of all the influence you’ll have.”

She pulled her arm away from him. “They can go to the devil.”

The prince gave a careless shrug. “In any case, the arrangements are in place. I have already spoken to Ambassador and Countess Lieven. Naturally, they are thrilled. By this time, I would imagine the ambassador has already hinted to the Prince Regent of our impending engagement. The formal announcement will go out as soon as we return to London.”

Dumbstruck with despair, Vivien could only shake her head in pointless refusal. The trap was steadily closing about her. Even if Aden had been here, she doubted he could have done anything to protect her.

As if he read her thoughts, the prince leaned in even closer, pinning her with a gaze that seemed purely reptilian. “If you are thinking that your dashing captain can help you, then I suggest you think again. You are mine, Lady Vivien, and I will allow no man to stand in the way of claiming you as my bride.”

His acrid breath washed over her and she shrank back in her chair.

“Am I making myself perfectly clear?” he asked, his voice softly threatening.

She forced herself to nod as she heard the bars of her cage slide into place. They’d planned it too carefully—Cyrus and the prince—and she didn’t stand a chance. And if she turned to Aden for help . . .

He might not want to marry her, but she had no doubt he would again risk his life to help her. She also had no doubt Ivan the Terrible would carry out his vile threat. Given his immense wealth and power, he might well get away with it. But that didn’t even matter. Only Aden mattered, and if he were hurt or killed trying to help her, Vivien could never live with that horrible outcome. Bleakly, she accepted the losing hand fate had dealt her and met Khovansky’s maliciously triumphant gaze.

“I understand perfectly, Your Highness. That being the case, I wish to leave Captain St. George a letter—” She held up a restraining hand when he started to object. “You may read it. I simply intend to tell him that I have agreed to marry you and that I will be displeased if he tries to interfere in any way.”

The prince gave her another flourishing bow, one that seemed to mock her. “Of course, my dear, whatever you wish.”

Vivien crossed to the small writing desk in the corner of the room. She rummaged for paper and ink and then wearily sat down to write her note. As the words stuttered reluctantly from her pen, she heard the closing snick of the lock on the cage that had just become her life.

Aden walked slowly from the mews where he stabled his horses, reading the
on-dits
column as the bustle of stable hands and grooms swirled about him. As soon as his coach reached the outskirts of London, he’d had Stevens jump down to retrieve the papers. Though tempted to shove the reins into the coachman’s hands and start scanning the columns of type immediately, the sick feeling in his stomach had held him back.

Now he couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. It was there in black-and-white for the entire world to see.

He stopped in the middle of the lane and closed his eyes, letting the wave of despair swamp him. He’d failed Vivien and now he couldn’t see a way to help her escape the trap she’d walked into. Even worse, she didn’t even want his help, as her curtly worded missive had made clear.

A blast from a carriage horn jerked him out of his reverie. “Here now, guv, stand clear,” yelled a coachman as he wheeled by in a barouche just inches from Aden’s booted feet.

Aden grimaced and waved an apology. He folded the papers and shoved them under his arm, heading for the back entrance to his set of rooms. Despite the fact that he’d managed to get a few hours’ sleep on his journey back from St. Clement, weariness unlike anything he’d ever felt dragged on his bones. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’d only slept a few hours in the last several days and everything to do with the fact that he’d failed Vivien. And despite what Dominic said, that failure
had
resulted from letting emotion get in his way. If he’d kept a proper distance from her none of this would have happened. He would have kept his mind on the job and brought Khovansky to heel days ago instead of indulging in the stupidity of falling in love.

A love Vivien wanted nothing to do with, as her letter made clear. Even now, tucked into the inside pocket of his greatcoat, it weighed him down. And he certainly wouldn’t have to pull it out again to read since the words had scorched themselves into his brain.

She’d tersely explained that she’d decided to marry the prince after Khovansky assured her that he’d had nothing to do with her abduction or the subsequent attempt. Aden refused to believe she could be so easily duped, but what she’d written next had shaken him to the core.

Aden’s gut had burned with shame when he read those words, knowing he’d used the same excuse to push her away. Now, because of his cowardly rejection, Vivien would spend her life tied to a man she hated. If she’d given him even a hint that she wanted to fight he would have dared anything to help her, even invading Carleton House to demand his father’s help. But her missive stated in clear, cold terms that she would reject any such interference, all but ordering him to stay away from her.

From what his people had told Aden when he arrived in St. Clement a day after Vivien’s departure, she’d gone willingly. Despite the initial ugliness when Khovansky and his men had barged in, Vivien had seemed more than ready to leave with the prince and her brother. That was the part Aden couldn’t fathom. Vivien was no coward. Short of putting a gun to her head, Khovansky hadn’t a hope in hell of forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to do.

Aden brushed by the porter with a curt nod and headed for the stairs to his rooms.

“Captain, wait,” the man called out.

Expelling an impatient sigh, Aden paused at the foot of the staircase.

Carter, the day porter, hurried up with an apologetic smile. “Begging your pardon, sir, but there’s a young man waiting for you in your rooms. He said it was an urgent matter and refused to leave until you returned. Right worried the lad was, too, so I thought it best to let him in since he says you know him.”

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Mr. Christopher Shaw.”

A jolt of anxiety blasted away Aden’s fatigue. He gave Carter a brusque nod and took the stairs two at a time. He strode into his front room, tossing the newspaper and his hat in the general direction of the padded bench by the door.

“Thank God you’re finally here,” Kit said, jumping up from one of the wing chairs in front of the bay window. He tugged anxiously on the hem of his waistcoat. “I know I shouldn’t be here but I couldn’t think where else to turn. You’ve got to help Vivien before it’s too late.”

Aden studied the lad, taking in his hollow-eyed look and the way he hunched into his coat. Shaking his head, he crossed to the cold fireplace and crouched down to get a blaze lit.

“How long have you been waiting?”

“Since early this morning,” Kit said, dancing with impatience. “I snuck out before anyone was up.”

“You should have lit a fire. It’s freezing in here.”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t how you’d feel about me breaking into your rooms,” Kit said with a sheepish smile.

“You didn’t break in.”

“Well, not really. But—”

“A moment,” Aden said, holding up a hand as he finished lighting the fire.

He went to the brass trolley and poured out two brandies. After handing one to Kit, he waved the young man back to the armchair and then propped his shoulder against the marble mantelpiece.

“Tell me why you’re here, Kit.”

“I tried to tell Vivi that she should go to Sir Dominic, but she refused. She said everything was fine and I was absolutely not to interfere. But I knew it wasn’t right, and that’s when I decided to come to you. You’ve got to help her.” Kit’s blue eyes, so like Vivien’s that it hurt, implored him.

“She’s made it clear she doesn’t want my help,” Aden said, trying not to sound bitter.

Kit looked puzzled. “When did you talk to her?”

“It doesn’t matter. All I can tell you is that she seems set on her course and she asked me not to interfere.” But even as the words left his mouth, Aden mentally disavowed them. He might try to believe that—Vivien clearly wanted him to—but it just didn’t make sense.

Kit’s chin tilted up with mulish determination. Aden had seen Vivien’s delicate jaw adopt that angle any number of times and it never failed to enchant him, even when it signalled an impending verbal brawl.

The young man shook his head. “They’re forcing her—the prince and my brother. She doesn’t have a choice.”

Aden’s hand jerked, splashing some brandy over the rim of the glass. Carefully, he set it down on the mantelpiece. “Did she tell you that?”

“Of course not. Vivien never complains. All she said was that she wanted to marry Ivan the Terrible and that I was to mind my own business.”

“She actually called him Ivan the Terrible?”

“Yes. She also got very upset when I threatened to speak to you. Got quite frantic about it, in fact, and she actually yelled at me to leave you alone. Can’t remember the last time Vivi raised her voice to me like that.”

Aden sank into the other wing chair, trying to get his weary brain to think. “Clearly I still don’t understand her motivation. I know Lord Blake had tried to use your financial situation as leverage against her, but I thought you’d obtained some relief from that.” He narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t started gambling again, have you?”

“No!” Kit looked outraged. “I told Vivi I’d stop gambling, and I have.”

“Then why is she doing this, if not to save you?”

Kit turned his palms up in a helpless gesture. “It’s not just me. It’s Mamma’s extravagance, too. Her debts run into the thousands. And Cyrus has mortgaged the family pile to the hilt. All told, we’re only one step away from falling into the River Tick.”

“Yes, but why does that mean Vivien has to marry Khovansky?” Aden snapped. Christ, what had the poor girl ever done to deserve such a useless family?

“Because Ivan the Terrible bought up all our debt,” Kit replied in a morose voice. “When Vivien disappeared, he went on a tear. He tracked down every penny and before we knew it His Bloody Highness owned us down to the last bottle of port in the cellar. Now he’s threatening to have us all thrown into debtors’ prison if Vivien doesn’t agree to marry him.” He grimaced. “The man’s a lunatic, St. George. I’m afraid for Vivien.”

Aden rubbed his forehead, furious with himself. If not for his blasted pride he would have figured it out straight off. “Of course she doesn’t want to marry him. She can’t stand the bastard.” As awful as the situation was, an echo of hope reverberated in his heart.

He gave Kit a wry smile. “You can be sure I’ll be calling on your brother today. I will not allow Lady Vivien to be forced into a marriage she doesn’t want.”

His mind leapt ahead, solving the problem. Dominic’s help would be needed and Aden might very well have to ask for his father’s assistance as well. The idea made him cringe, but that meant nothing when Vivien’s life was at stake.

“That’s all very well and good,” Kit said in a cautious voice. “But what are you going to say to Cyrus?”

“That your sister is already engaged to me. That should do the trick.”

Kit goggled at him. “You’re marrying Vivien?”

“I am.” Aden stood, energy pulsing through his veins. The way forward had suddenly become simple and clear, and he’d let nothing stand in his way. Vivien was his, and he’d known it in his heart for days. Only his childish fears, masquerading as caution, had kept him from acknowledging it.

Kit leapt to his feet. “I say, that’s splendid.” He grabbed Aden’s hand and pumped it.

Aden bit back a laugh. He had the feeling he’d be spending a fair amount of time riding herd on Vivien’s family over the next few years. “It’s time to pay a visit to Blake House to give your brother the good news. Would you like to come with me?”

Kit grimaced. “That may be sticky since Ivan the Terrible has the place surrounded with his guards. Doesn’t want Vivien slipping out.”

“Then he’s not as stupid as I thought,” Aden said dryly. “But I imagine the guards are more to keep me out than Vivien in.”

“But what are we to do? Cyrus is hosting a dinner party tonight for the Russian legation. After that, everyone’s off to Lady Jersey’s ball. Khovansky intends to formally announce the engagement in front of the entire blasted
ton.
”

“Then your brother should expect a few extra guests for dinner.”

Kit frowned. “What about all the guards?”

Aden smiled and grabbed Kit’s arm, pushing him toward the door. “Not to worry. I know just the man to take care of that problem.”