Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard (34 page)

“I never could stand him,” the countess whispered to her. “Dreadful, froggy-faced lout.”

Not that there was any need to whisper, given the shouts and hysterical noises coming from the rest of the guests. Fortunately, Aden and Steele quickly exerted control and Vivien sank down in her chair to watch them restore order out of chaos.

After calling two footmen up from the kitchen, Steele oversaw the transfer of Khovansky’s inert form to the ambassador’s carriage. The countess, after hugging Vivien, hurried out with her husband and the other guests followed, obviously eager to begin spreading the gossip about the exciting conclusion of Vivien’s aborted engagement party.

“Ruined. We’re ruined,” moaned Cyrus.

Vivien glared at her brother. “Do shut up, will you, Cyrus? If we are ruined, it’s your fault.”

She looked at her mother and Kit at the other end of the long, cluttered dining table. Mamma was weeping loudly into her handkerchief while Kit ineffectually patted her on the shoulder. “In fact, it’s all our faults,” Vivien added, “and it’s time we start taking responsibility for our mistakes.”

Cyrus jumped to his feet. “You can do whatever you want, but I won’t stay here a minute longer and listen to this drivel.”

As he stormed out of the room, their mother hauled herself from her chair. “Cyrus,” she bleated plaintively, rushing after him. “What are we all to do?”

Kit sighed. “I’d better go after them, if only to make sure Cyrus doesn’t strangle Mamma.”

“What a splendid idea,” Aden said, coming in from the hallway. “And make sure everyone else leaves us alone. Your sister doesn’t need any more upset.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Kit grasped Aden’s hand and wrung it. “Thank you, sir, for everything.”

Aden gave him a wry smile. “You did well, Kit. I begin to have some hope for you.”

When Kit laughed and left the room, Aden closed the door behind him.

Vivien sucked in a breath. Finally, they were alone. She stood up again on wobbly legs, grasping at the table to steady herself. Aden crossed the length of the room in long, loping strides.

“Easy, my love.” He lowered her back into her chair. “There’s no need to do anything. Just sit down and rest for a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, hardly able to look him in the face. Suddenly, she was more nervous than she’d been all evening. “I don’t usually act like such a wet hen.”

Aden hooked an arm over the back of a neighboring chair and pulled it over. “You’re no wet hen, Vivien. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

He gently removed the horrible, heavy pieces of jewelry from her neck and wrists and tossed them carelessly on the table, pulling a choked laugh from Vivien. Then he took her hands, turned them over, and planted a kiss, first on one palm and then the other. His handsome face grew blurry, and Vivien had to blink several times to clear her vision. He waited patiently, gazing at her with such tenderness that she found her throat closing on yet more tears.

She studied him, amazed at the change. It was Aden, and yet not. Or, rather, the Aden she’d always longed for him to be—open, loving, able to let her in.

“Is it really over?” she whispered.

He nodded. “The ambassador and his wife—who was splendid, I must say—will deal with Khovansky. As for his band of thugs, Griffin and his men are hauling them off to Bow Street. They will never bother you again, Vivien.”

Her defensive walls finally crumbled. Despite herself, she couldn’t hold back a few sobs of relief. The nightmare was finally over, at least for her. But for Aden?

She clutched his hands. “But you’re safe, aren’t you? Prince Ivan will not be able to harm you?” She couldn’t hold back a shudder. “He made such horrible threats—”

Aden leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, teasing her mouth with tender kisses that slowly grew heated. He thoroughly explored her mouth, gently demanding she let him in. When she did, he claimed her, kissing her until she had to clutch at the lapels of his coat to hold steady.

When he finally broke away, his eyes gleamed with sensual intent and Vivien was gasping for breath.

“You’re not to worry about Khovansky ever again,” he said. “Do you understand?”

Still reeling from his kiss, she could only nod.

“Good.” He gave her a rather stern look. “Not that you don’t deserve a scold for what you did—or didn’t do, I might say.”

She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“Goose,” he said affectionately. “I mean for not sending for me or Sir Dominic right away. I know you agreed to marry Khovansky only to save your brother and me. Your intentions were noble, but unwise, to say the least.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. Besides,” she grumbled, “you weren’t very encouraging the last time we spoke, if you recall.”

He grimaced. “I’m an idiot, and I apologize for that. I let my fear and my pride come between us, and only by the grace of God—and Kit—did we come around.” He took her face between his hands. “I’ll never leave you again, Vivien. I swear it.”

Too overcome with emotion to speak, she leaned in to give him a kiss. They engaged in that very pleasurable activity until they were both breathless and heated.

Aden pulled back with a groan. “We’ve got to stop or I’ll have you on the table with your heels up in the air. I hardly think Lord Blake would approve.”

She giggled. The sound of her laughter made her dizzy, since only a few hours ago she’d believed she’d never laugh again. “What happens now? I’m very happy to be free of my engagement, of course, but it does leave my family in a terrible pickle.”

“We’re going to get married and find a place to live, regardless of what happens to your family. There are some nice little terraces going up around Cadogan Square that might do very well.”

Vivien grabbed the front of his coat. “Truly?”

He frowned. “Yes. We’re going to get married, so what did you think?”

“But what about your work? Can you simply walk away from that?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Trust me, I’m ready. Besides, there are other things I can do to help Dominic and the government that don’t require me to skulk around the Continent in disguise. From now on, the only skulking I’ll be doing is under the sheets with you.”

She smiled, patting his chest. “That sounds lovely, but . . .”

“But?”

Vivien anxiously chewed her lip. Aden tipped her chin up.

“Out with it, my love.”

“It will be a financial burden, but Mamma and Kit will have to live with us.”

He stared at her with mock horror.

“Well, they will,” she said defensively.

Aden waved an insouciant hand. “Not to worry. I have a plan. You’ll simply have to support us at the gaming tables.”

She scowled at him. “I will not!”

He laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m by no means poor. I inherited a tidy sum from my aunt some years ago, and I’ve had a great deal of success investing it. I won’t do a thing to help Cyrus, but I am well able to provide for the rest of your family.”

Vivien was about to throw her arms around his neck when a horrible thought darted into her head.

Aden rolled his eyes. “What now?”

“What will your father think of all this?” she blurted out. “I’ve created such a horrible scandal and God knows what people will say about me and Prince Ivan. Will the Regent be displeased if you marry me?”

“Darling, I’m his by-blow and the result of one of the more lurid scandals in the
ton
. How upset do you think he could get? Besides, if he does have any objections, my mother will deal with him.”

She stared at him doubtfully. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He stroked her jaw. “Did I not promise weeks ago I would take care of you?”

“You did, but it works both ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to take care of you, too,” she answered, tapping him on the chest for emphasis. “You need a bit of fussing over.”

He shook his head, looking a bit dazed. “My love, I think I have been waiting my entire life for someone to fuss over me.”

“Good. From now on we take care of each other.”

“Now that you mention it,” he said, pulling her onto his lap. “There
is
something I’d like you to take care of.”

“So I see,” she said, laughing with a joy so encompassing she could barely contain it. “Or, rather,
feel.
”

She shifted to get more comfortable, and Aden drew in a sharp breath. “I think I have the perfect solution to your problem,” she murmured.

“Splendid,” he replied, nuzzling her throat. “Then I suggest you get started immediately.”

 

Dominic Hunter stood inside the doorway to the ornately formal drawing room, allowing himself to bask in the happy scene playing out in front of him. His schemes usually came to fruition, but rarely had he taken such pleasure in the outcome as he did now.

He heard the rustle of silk behind him and then a small, gloved hand slipped into the crook of his elbow.

“Goodness, Dominic,” said a gently lilting voice. “Why are you hovering in the doorway? Don’t you want to congratulate the bride and groom? After all, they would never have reached this moment without you.”

He smiled down at the diminutive and comfortably plump middle-aged woman, still lovely after so many years, who’d come to stand beside him. “I have the feeling that Aden and his new wife would have found their way to each other somehow, Lady Tait. I merely gave them a nudge in the right direction.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what Anthony told me. And why, my dear, do you insist on calling me
Lady Tait
when we’re in public? It’s ridiculous to be so formal. You know very well I’m only twelve years older than you.”

Dominic smiled at her comically wry expression. “Yes, but you’ve been more of a mother to me than my own mother ever had the chance to be.”

Her eyes softened as she tugged him down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Dominic. You know the special place you will always hold in my heart.” Her glance cut over to Aden and Vivien, standing in the center of the room greeting their wedding guests. “I hope you will find your happiness someday, just as that lovely couple has.”

A dark, familiar pain rustled deep within him. Dominic barely acknowledged it, having learned to live with it long ago.

“This makes me happy,” he said. “To know that Aden is where he truly belongs. It has been many years in the making, and no man deserves it more.”

Lady Tait let out a ladylike snort. “Dominic, you know very well—”

A deep, masculine voice cut her off. “Linnet, Dominic is much too old for you to be scolding him, don’t you think? And in public, no less. You’ll set all the gossips to buzzing.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Dominic turned to greet his former guardian and mentor. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to see you. It’s been much too long.”

Sir Anthony Tait’s upright form barely showed any concession to his age, although his hair was liberally sprinkled with gray and his lean face had grown craggier with the years. But his clear, hazel gaze still gleamed with the intelligence and sharp perception that had made him one of England’s most formidable spymasters.

Lady Tait glowered at her husband, obviously intending to cow him. She failed miserably. Firstly, she was so much shorter than he and, secondly, her love for him lit up her features. Dominic had lived with the Taits for several years as a lad, and he knew better than anyone the strength of their feelings for each other. He’d been privileged beyond measure to be considered a part of their family.

“I was merely reminding Dominic that he’s not too old to find his own happiness. Surely you can’t disagree with that,” Lady Tait said, trying to sound severe.

“My dear, I make it a strict policy never to disagree with you,” her husband replied.

When her mouth dropped open in disbelief, both Dominic and Sir Anthony laughed. Lady Tait drew herself up to her full height—which barely reached the center of Dominic’s chest—and snapped open her fan.

“If you two gentlemen will excuse me,” she said in an imperious voice, “I intend to make my congratulations to the bride and groom. Anthony, do not keep Dominic trapped here while you prose on forever about government business. We’re at a wedding, not a meeting at the Home Office.”

“Yes, my love,” Sir Anthony replied in a dutiful voice.

Lady Tait muttered something about
stubborn men
under her breath, but Dominic didn’t miss the smile lurking about her lips as she sailed off.

“She has a point,” Sir Anthony said. “It’s long past time for you to get married and start a family of your own. Whatever happened in the past should not—”

Dominic narrowed his gaze in warning.

The older man studied his face for a few moments and then sighed. “Very well. But since we are speaking of family, do we expect Griffin to make an appearance today?”

“No. The Prince Regent is expected shortly. I can’t imagine Prinny would welcome the proprietor of London’s most notorious gaming houses to his son’s wedding, especially since His Royal Highness also happens to owe Griffin a considerable sum of money. Besides,” Dominic said, glancing around at the genteel assemblage, “this is hardly Griffin’s style.”

“It could be,” Anthony replied. “You’re not giving up on your plans to reform him, are you?” He gestured toward the happy couple, now making their way in a leisurely fashion about the room to greet their guests. “Griffin deserves this as much as Aden does.”

“I know,” Dominic said. “And I’ll see that he gets it.”

He’d made it one of his missions in life to help men like Aden and Griffin, the bastard sons of the royal princes, the ones who’d been tossed aside by their fathers. Men who’d had to fight for every last scrap of dignity and self-worth, just like Dominic had been forced to do.

Sir Anthony gave a thoughtful nod. “Griffin is a more challenging case, as I’m sure you realize. His loss has been profound.”

The darkness inside Dominic rustled again, a reminder that it would not be forgotten.

“Don’t worry,” he replied in a grim voice. “I have every intention of reuniting him with his mother.” That, in fact, would be a hell of a task since Griffin’s mother had been lost to all of them for twenty-eight long years. “I’ll find her, even if I have to search every corner of England to do it.”

 

 

“Do you think he noticed how nervous I was?” Vivien asked, wrinkling her pretty nose in dismay. “I’m afraid I sounded like a complete ninny.”

They watched Aden’s mother steer the rotund figure of the Prince Regent across the cavernous drawing room toward Edmund, Aden’s half brother. Edmund had graciously offered Thornbury House as the setting for their wedding breakfast, especially once he’d been apprised that Prinny would be attending. Aden had winced when his mother had insisted on including his father on the invitation list, but the old fellow had been quite helpful in smoothing over lingering problems with the Russians, outraged that a gently bred Englishwoman and his son had been the target of such a sinister plot. The entire episode had been the biggest scandal of the Season, and only the fact that Aden had claimed the ultimate prize—Vivien’s love—made the subsequent gossip and fuss remotely tolerable.

But with Vivien by his side, Aden could put up with anything.

“My darling,” he said, smoothing his hand along the back of her silky-soft neck, “you’ve met my royal parent several times over the years. Why should today be any different?”

She shivered under his caress even as the expression in her beautiful blue eyes conveyed both laughter and disbelief. “Because today is our wedding day, silly! And the Prince Regent is now my father-in-law. It’s all rather a bit much to take in, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I suppose I’ve gotten used to it. Besides, he can’t be any worse than your family, can he?”

Vivien glanced across the room where Cyrus was trying to toady up to the Regent. “I’m sorry we had to invite Cyrus, but I think your mamma was right. It would have generated even more gossip if we’d left him off the list.”

Aden dropped a swift kiss on her rosy mouth, not caring for one moment if anyone saw him do it. Vivien was his wife, now and forever, and he would kiss her wherever and whenever he chose. Besides, she looked so delectable in her gold dress trimmed with lace and cut temptingly low across the bodice, it was a wonder he didn’t carry her off into an empty room and have his way with her.

“You’re not to worry,” he said. “Cyrus and I have come to an understanding.” Namely, that Cyrus was to stay the hell away from Vivien or face Aden’s wrath.

“I’m sure,” she replied in a dry voice. Then she tilted her head, her gaze running over him in a way that made his blood instantly heat.

“What?” he asked, his voice going low and husky.

“I was just thinking of Mr. and Mrs. Parker, and what they would think about all this.”

Aden slid his hand from Vivien’s neck and trailed it down her arm, making her shiver again. He entwined his fingers with hers. “I certainly know what Mr. Parker would be thinking right now.”

“Oh, yes?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with so much love and laughter that Aden could barely contain his own happiness. To know that this woman was his to adore to the end of their days was a joy and a freedom he’d never thought to experience.

“He’d be thinking about their
breeding problem,
and how best to resolve it,” he said.

“How odd. I believe Mrs. Parker would be thinking the same thing.”

Her lips parted and the tip of her pink tongue touched the corner of her mouth. Aden instantly turned hard, which wasn’t very convenient, under the circumstances.

Vivien’s sapphire gaze turned smoky with desire. “Do you think Mr. and Mrs. Parker might be able to slip away for a few minutes to discuss the problem? Without anyone noticing?”

Aden grinned. “I’m a spy, my love. I do this sort of thing for a living.” He cast a swift glance around the room, sizing up the quickest route of escape as he slipped an arm around her waist. “Just leave everything to me.”