AWAKENING THE SHY MISS (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

S
he said yes!

Dimitri walked to his desk in the corner of the pavilion and lit a lamp. He’d left Evie at her parents’ and headed home, prepared for a night of writing. Everything could be set in motion now. He was going to do it. He was going to renounce his title and become Mr Petrovich, the man he’d always wanted to be. He was going to need help. Titles were not renounced easily. He needed someone to watch over his father and Anna-Maria, someone to negotiate these arrangements. Quite possibly, he was going to need a great many someones. That’s what friends were for.

He pulled out several sheets of paper, his confidence building as he began to write. He wrote to his father first, the one man in the entire world he trusted to see it done, and the one man who would understand how agonising the decision was because he too had loved deeply. He wrote to Yulian next, carefully outlining the benefits and great patriotic honour of taking on this duty for Kuban.

Then came the letters to Stepan and Ruslan. He would entrust them to help his father with the negotiations. To Nikolay he entrusted the duty of protecting the family quite literally. Nikolay’s firebrand temper didn’t make him an ideal political ally, but his sword arm was never in doubt. Nikolay would defend the house, would defend Anna-Maria to his last breath.

To Illarion fell the job of keeping up the spirits, a shoulder to cry on. Anna-Maria would be devastated when it came to renouncing him. Her letter had been the hardest of all to write. He’d begged her to understand that she had to do this for her own future and safety, that he wanted a secure future for her above all else where she had choices.

When the sun came up, his hand was cramped and a stack of letters sealed with the great bear, the mark of the house of Petrovich, lay piled on his desk. He counted the days in his head. One day to the embassy in London. The diplomatic pouch would take three days to reach Ostend across the Channel and then a week of hard riding to make Kuban. Ten days at best until his father opened that letter. One of the benefits of being a prince: one’s mail went fast. Dimitri twisted the ring on his finger. He’d enjoy the privilege while it lasted. He didn’t fool himself that this transition would be easy. Doubtless there would be some adjusting to going from a prince to ordinary man, but there would be benefits too. For one, he could go to the privy without being tracked down by voracious females.

It would take ten days for a response to arrive plus whatever time lay in between to settle negotiations. He hoped they would be quick. But he knew better than to hope for too much. There would be protocol and ceremony to follow and if the sultan’s representative wasn’t lounging around court, he’d have to be summoned. Dimitri pushed a hand through his hair. All of this would take time. He was taking an enormous leap of faith that his friends and his family wouldn’t fail him. He could not wait for permission to move forward. He had to assume it would all happen according to his plan. He had one more letter to write, to the couple in the valley. It was time to enquire about the house.
Mr
Petrovich and his wife were going to need somewhere to live.

Dimitri stretched and smiled. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Almost. There were still a few things that needed wrapping up. There was still a thief on the loose who had managed to steal a few more items. Whoever the thief was, he wasn’t a very good one. He had no idea the items he’d taken were merely replicas.

There was also the gala to get through, one more night of people staring in awe at the Prince of Kuban and treating him like some precious artefact himself that might break if they didn’t fawn over him enough. If they weren’t busy kowtowing, they were busy speculating how they could best use their association with him. That would soon be over. People wouldn’t care so much when he was regular Mr Petrovich, the foreign chap who’d married Evie Milham.

But
after
the gala, real life could begin with Evie beside him. He would dance with Evie, keep Evie by his side all night because he wanted to and because he wanted no one in Little Westbury to be surprised when he called on Sir Hollis Milham the next day and asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Instead, they would say, ‘It all makes sense. Didn’t you see them together at the gala? A perfect pair.’ It could all begin tomorrow. He just had to get through the gala. He could hardly wait for it to begin
and
he could hardly wait for it to be over.

* * *

‘Careful with that!’

‘It has to be carried flat or it will crack.’

‘You would crack too if you were a thousand years old.’

‘Yes, over here with that crate. No, put the other box over there.’ Evie ran a hand through her hair, trying hard not to bark orders, trying hard not to be overwhelmed as she managed three tasks at once. The whole morning had been like this, everyone relying on her for instruction and for direction. Evie looked down at the tablet in her hand, covered in lists and ticks, the ticks a testament to the progress she was making and to the amount of work that still remained to be done. Thank goodness for all the work. It was supposed to keep her mind off what was to come.

It would all be over tonight. The gala was a culminating event in more ways than one, a thought that Evie was struggling to push away no matter how hard she worked. She and her mother had been up early, at the site overseeing preparations for the evening’s party. Everything had to happen in a specific order.

First, the ‘set designers’, as her mother liked to call them, had to assemble the curtains that would cordon off unfinished areas of the site and guide guests through the rooms Dimitri wanted to display tonight towards the
pièce de résistance
, the dining room with its terracotta-rose design carved into the floor. Setting up the curtains would take most of the morning. After that, the flowers could be arranged in tall urns replicating Roman style, the long table brought in for dining could be laid and Evie could work on getting the displays of artefacts ready for public viewing. There would be a separate pavilion set up for dancing that would have to be supervised as well. Then and only then could she think about dressing and getting herself ready. Her gown for the evening was already at Dimitri’s pavilion. There would be no time to go home and change.

But that was hours away, nearly an entire day. The gown was beautiful, one she’d made herself and just finished last night out of the silk from London, and yet she didn’t want to think about putting it on and what that would symbolise, taking her one step closer to leaving Dimitri. No, she couldn’t think of it like that. She was one step closer to setting him free, not giving him up.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Dimitri working hard to help assemble the curtains. He flashed her a smile, looking entirely too handsome in rolled-up shirtsleeves, looking entirely too much in his element. He looked like he belonged here with these people. No. She could not second-guess her decision. She had to be firm. He would thank her for it later when he realised a man didn’t simply give up a kingdom for a girl like her. She was making the right decision in leaving. She knew it was the right decision because it was hard. Every time she thought about it she wanted to cry. Right decisions were hard decisions, the ones it cost you something to make. This was costing her plenty.

* * *

She could not turn back time. She couldn’t even manage to hold it back. The long day which had seemed endless in the cool of the morning, and the tasks that had seemed impossible to accomplish in the warmth of the day, had given way to the long purple shadows of evening.

‘It looks spectacular.’ She turned at the sound of Dimitri’s voice. He had been everywhere today, raising curtains, moving tables, carrying heavy urns full of flowers, patiently moving them from niche to niche at her mother’s behest. Now, that labouring man was gone, replaced by a resplendent prince in dark evening clothes, immaculately groomed.

‘
You
look spectacular.’ Evie reached up and adjusted his cravat, a useless gesture since it was perfectly tied, but it gave her an excuse to touch him.

‘This exceeds my wildest expectations.’ Dimitri motioned to the site, taking in the transformation with a sweep of his hand.

How she’d miss those wide gestures. Together, they looked at the lush setting with its silk hangings and displays. Guests would be able to wander through the corridor and view artefacts displayed in cases while reading carefully scripted programmes that detailed everything in the cases. She had worked hours on those. That reminded her of something. ‘Did you have any luck catching the thief?’ She still regretted the loss of the pretty comb and hair clips.

‘No, but no further harm has been done.’ Dimitri winked. ‘I would like to catch him. But if I don’t, I feel assured he will be punished. People who discover they’ve been duped into buying false antiques aren’t friendly about it. His crime will catch up with him.’ He wrapped his arms about her and planted a secret kiss on the back of her neck.

‘People will see!’ she scolded, caught off balance by his boldness. They’d spent the last weeks being careful, being private.

‘Let them see.’ Dimitri nuzzled her ear. ‘Very soon you’ll be mine and I can kiss you in public all I want.’

‘It would be a scandal.’

‘I hardly think anyone would care what an ordinary fellow does with his wife. They’ll just say it’s “common”.’ Dimitri laughed and she wished she could laugh too. But she knew better. Dimitri’s little fantasy would never come to pass.

‘You’ll never be common. With or without a title, you will always be the Prince to these people. People won’t stop staring at you.’ Didn’t this man ever look in the mirror? Women would stare at him if he were dressed in sackcloth.

His arms around her tightened, she could feel him growing hard where her buttocks nestled against him. ‘I only care if you stare.’ For a moment she wondered if she’d been too hasty. Maybe he was right, maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe she was the one who was throwing away happiness while he was the one bravely reaching for it with all he was worth. She had to put a stop to all of this second-guessing.

‘I have to get ready or the guests will be here and I’ll be in my apron.’

Dimitri turned serious as he let her go. ‘I did want to tell you something. Andrew will be here tonight. He’s coming with Lord Belvoir and Miss Northam. But he won’t cause you any trouble. I give you my word, I won’t let him near you.’

She squeezed his hand and looked down at their hands. ‘I know. I always feel safe when I’m with you.’

‘Then you’ll be safe for the rest of your life.’

Not really, she thought as she headed to the pavilion to change. She’d be safe for the next sixteen hours. Then she’d be on a coach to Scotland and Dimitri could go back to Kuban without guilt. She would just go on. Somehow.

* * *

‘Are you changing your mind about leaving?’ Her mother stepped behind the curtain leading into Dimitri’s private chambers. He’d given the area over to the two women to get ready for the gala. Evie was nearly ready now. Her mother had finished earlier and looked exceptionally lovely in a dark blue silk.

Evie looked up from the vanity. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because you’ve spent the last five minutes staring in the mirror, doing nothing.’ Her mother walked the room, trailing a hand over the covers on the bed. ‘This is an impressive space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed quite like this. It stirs the imagination a bit, doesn’t it?’ She gave a nervous little titter, a warning she was leading up to something.

It stirs more than the imagination
, Evie thought. ‘What do you mean, Mother?’ she asked warily. This conversation was going somewhere, she just wasn’t sure where that was.

Her mother sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Evie, something has happened between you and the Prince, even since the last time we talked.’ She pursed her lips and looked down at her hands, perhaps unsure how to broach the subject. ‘I know about Beatrice. Her mother told me.’ Her mother smiled. ‘The perks of being long-time friends, I suppose.’

What did Beatrice have to do with this? Evie was having a hard time keeping up. ‘I thought we were talking about the Prince.’

‘We are.’ Her mother sighed. She sounded concerned, her usual flightiness absent, a sign of just how worried she was, worried to the point of weariness—too weary for flight even. ‘I was young once, Evie. I was in love, I had emotions that ran hot and cold. I did a few things that might surprise you. I know young girls aren’t all that innocent and I don’t hold that against them. I think the Penroses have dealt poorly with Beatrice’s situation and my heart breaks for that girl.’ She paused. ‘What I am saying, Evie, is that you can tell me whatever it is that has happened with the Prince and we will sort it out.’ There was that wisdom again, coming when Evie least expected it.

The kind words broke her. Evie felt the tears come and they wouldn’t stop. It had all been so very much to bear alone. She choked out the words. ‘Dimitri has proposed.’

Her usually highly strung mother did not faint, did not lapse into excited hysterics. Instead, she met this news with an unflappable reserve that reminded Evie of when Diana’s earl had proposed. ‘Tell me everything.’ Her mother knelt beside her at the vanity, taking her hands.

The story came out between sobs and tears. She had to repeat herself to make sense, had to take deep breaths to remain coherent. The enormity of what Dimitri had done was overwhelming. ‘He has renounced everything.’

‘What did you say to that, my darling girl?’ her mother asked quietly when she’d finished.

‘I said yes because he’d tolerate nothing less. But I knew I couldn’t let him do it. I can’t let him renounce his title, his country, turn his back on his family. I knew then I had to be strong for both of us. He’ll come to hate me once he realises what he’s done.’

‘That’s not what I asked,’ her mother said softly. ‘What do you
want
to say? Do you love him?’

‘I wasn’t supposed to love him. I never meant to love him. I thought I loved Andrew for years. But Dimitri came along when I least expected it. When I am with him, everything seems possible. When he looks at me, I feel beautiful, like I am more than I ever thought I could be.’ Evie drew a breath. ‘It’s too fast, isn’t it? How could I love Andrew for years and then love Dimitri instantly? Love at first sight doesn’t really exist. Does it?’ How could it when her mother said marriage was the work of a lifetime?