To Wed a Wicked Prince (7 page)

“We met at Brooke’s the other night, I believe,” Nick said in his easy way. “How d’ye do, Prokov?”

“Well enough, thank you, Sir Nicholas,” Alex returned with a nodding bow. “We’re enjoying the ride.”

“Ah, yes…quite.” Nick frowned a little. He had the feeling that his presence was unwelcome, at least to Livia’s companion. He glanced at Livia, then back at the prince. “Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy it then. Must be getting on myself. Any news of Harry and Nell, Liv? Harry’s last rather brief communication said they were getting ready to return to London.”

“They’re in Hampshire at the moment, paying a peace-making visit to the earl,” she said. “We’re not sure when they’ll be back in town.” Livia wondered whether to ask Nick to ride with them, and then decided against it. There was something about Prince Prokov’s demeanor that seemed to indicate he would not like company, and for some reason she found that something powerfully persuasive.

It was all part and parcel of the man’s ability to plough through any obstacle or objection, she reflected with an annoyance that she realized was directed as much at her own inability to resist as at Alex himself. “Call in Cavendish Square, will you, Nick?”

“Of course, ma’am. Tomorrow, if I may?”

“That would be lovely.”

He raised a hand in farewell, nodded at Alex, and rode off down the tan, frowning. Something seemed not quite right to him. Livia was strung as tight as a bowstring.

“A good friend of yours, I gather,” Alex commented as they resumed their ride.

“Yes,” Livia said shortly.

“And do you have many good male friends?” he inquired in a neutral tone.

“What business is that of yours?” Livia bristled.

He turned his head towards her and smiled. “I was wondering if I have many rivals.”

“Rivals for
what
?” she demanded, wondering why she was perversely amused by his effrontery.

“For the attention of the most fascinating and attractive woman in London,” he returned promptly.

“Fustian,” she stated. “I have no patience with these empty and extravagant compliments, Prince Prokov. Any more than I care for your equally extravagant gestures.”

“Ah, it must be my Russian blood,” he lamented with a heavy sigh. “We are not a race known for our moderation. It would seem, alas, that such cultural differences are harder to bridge than I imagined.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” she said roundly. “I don’t believe your Russian blood or your so-called Slav temperament have anything whatsoever to do with your behavior. You’re playing a game, and for some reason I seem to be the object of that game. But permit me to tell you that your present tactics will not achieve whatever it is you wish to achieve.”

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment or two as they continued to ride. “Then I suppose I had better change them,” he said finally. “Would you tell me what tactics
would
work? I learn quickly, you know.”

Livia frowned at him, puzzlement and a hint of unease in her clear gray eyes. She was suddenly certain that this was no game. “Why are you pursuing me so purposefully, Alex?”

“I don’t seem to be able to help it,” he responded. “From the first moment I saw you, I needed…wanted…” He shrugged with a disarming smile. “Couldn’t you simply be flattered and accept the compliment?”

It sounded innocent enough, and she was too honest to deny the strange frisson she got from his attention. And far too honest to deny that it both pleased and flattered her. “Perhaps I can,” she said with an attempt at nonchalance. “But I’ll accept no more presents…not so much as a bunch of flowers.”

“That’s a pity. I do so like to give presents.”

“Oh, now you’re making me sound ungracious and mean-spirited,” she protested. “Surely you can see the difference between a bunch of flowers and an entire garden, or between a silk scarf and a Thoroughbred horse?”

“Not really. A suitable present is one that suits the recipient and pleases the giver. However, will you at least accept the loan of the mare whenever you wish to ride her?”

His eyes held hers, and there was an unmistakable appeal in their depths that she found irresistible. At this moment he didn’t seem arrogant or presumptuous, merely charming and a little vulnerable. If the man liked to give, what right had she to deny him? Firmly she put away the little voice that told her she was being disingenuous.

“Yes,” she said. “I would be happy to accept the loan, Alex, and I thank you for it.” She leaned forward and stroked the mare’s neck. “She is a delight to ride, but I’d love to try her paces somewhere less formal and rigid than Hyde Park.”

“Then let us go to Richmond,” he said promptly. “The rides there are broad and long and you could give her her head.” He urged his black forward as he spoke and the horse broke into a trot.

“Not
now,
” Livia exclaimed, realizing that he had every intention of riding off into the sunset in the direction of Richmond Park without a second thought. “It’s almost evening.”

“Tomorrow morning, then. I’ll bring her around at ten o’clock and we will have all day. We shall take a picnic.” He nodded decisively.

Livia looked at him in some exasperation. “You’re doing it again, Alex.”

“Doing what?”

“Assuming that I have nothing better to do than to fall in with your plans. You heard Sir Nicholas tell me that he would call upon me tomorrow.”

“Oh, but that’s of little importance,” he declared with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If you’re not in, he’ll leave his card and call another time. Besides, you could write him a note or ask your friend to receive him and explain.”

“Aurelia might have other plans too,” Livia pointed out aridly.

“Then write him a note or leave one with your butler. I predict a beautiful sunny day tomorrow and we should take advantage of it. One can never be certain of the weather at this time of year,” he observed gravely.

“You’re incorrigible,” Livia said.

“One of my finer qualities,” he agreed with a laugh. “Now, what will you name the mare?”

“She’s not mine to name,” Livia stated.

“I have a poor imagination and I’d probably call her something ordinary like Silver, so you’d do both me and the horse a favor by taking on the task. The naming of a horse is a most important matter.”

He was a totally overpowering force, Livia reflected. “I won’t argue with that,” she said, yielding because the struggle seemed fairly pointless. “But I’ll need some time to think about it.”

“Then for the present she must remain nameless. Shall we go back to Cavendish Square now or would you like to take another turn?”

“Cavendish Square,” Livia said firmly. She felt rather as if she’d been run over by a dray loaded with ale barrels. Prince Prokov seemed to have that effect and she badly needed some time to catch her breath and reflect.

“By all means,” he agreed with an amiable smile.

At the house he dismounted and held up a hand to Livia as she slid from the saddle. He held her hand for a moment longer than strictly necessary, then raised it to his lips for a light brush of a kiss. His eyes held hers as he said softly, “Until tomorrow then, Livia.”

Livia nodded. “At ten o’clock.” She tried to withdraw her hand and for a second his fingers tightened, then with a smile he released her and turned to the steps to escort her up to the door.

Livia felt strange. There had been something in those amazing blue eyes that disturbed her. A hint of ruthlessness, of a determination that didn’t quite jibe with his playful-seeming flirtation and the extravagant compliments. He wasn’t playing a game, she thought with renewed conviction. There was something deadly serious going on here, and the sooner she found out what it was the better.

Alex knocked vigorously, waited until the door was opened, then bade Livia farewell. And now as he smiled there was no hint of the look that had so chilled her. “I will count the minutes until the morning, my dear Livia.”

Livia made no response, merely smiled her own farewell before stepping swiftly through the door into the peaceful sanity of her own hall and a world she understood and could control.

Alex strolled down the steps and remounted, his expression thoughtful. He glanced up at the house again and frowned. He had so little time in which to storm this citadel. By the time the ambassador was recalled, Prince Prokov needed to be well entrenched in society, accepted not just by London’s frivolous bachelors but by the court, the grandes dames and their husbands, by diplomats and politicians. He couldn’t be married by then, of course, but eligibly betrothed to an impeccable fiancée with a wedding date in the near future would give him the entrées he needed just as well.

The tactics he had chosen were designed to achieve his goal in the shortest possible time, and his not inconsiderable experience of women had only bolstered his belief that his game plan would succeed. Women tended to succumb to the mix of masterful determination and flattering flirtation. Now, however, he was having doubts. Livia was not like the women he had known hitherto. She had mettle in her makeup. She was a spinster, in her late twenties, and she should be susceptible to the attentions of an eligible suitor; she should be more than eager for marriage. But there must be some reason why such an attractive woman was still single, he reflected. A reason that transcended the customary imperative of a woman of her social position. Of course, she was financially independent…
or thought she was.

And of course he could simply disabuse her of that belief and make his compensatory offer without all the uncertainties and entanglements of courtship. She would be out of her mind to refuse him. But something had happened since he’d met her. It was as if she were spinning a web around him and he was losing sight of his primary objectives. He wanted her, plain and simple, with a desire that if he wasn’t careful could consume him. It wasn’t only lust, although he certainly felt that when he looked at her, at the high, rounded bosom, the slender waist, and the graceful curve of her hips. He was drawn to the sense that, composed and poised though she was, there was an unruliness beneath that surface, an impulsive mischief that would make her a wonderful partner in bed and out of it. Livia Lacey radiated a curious quicksilver brightness, and she had an edge to her character that she wasn’t afraid to use if she felt her sense of integrity was somehow threatened.

He caught himself smiling at the reflection and pulled himself up sharply. He mustn’t lose sight of the fact that Livia, properly handled as his wife, could be very useful in the grim business that had brought him to London. If he held on to that fact, then he could keep a rein on this unruly and untidy desire.

He frowned as he continued to look up at the house. That was one objective he would never lose sight of. His mother—the mother he had never known. Who and what was Sophia Lacey? Once his father’s lover, certainly—a woman unselfish enough to give up her child because she believed it was in the child’s best interests. But what else was she? He was consumed with curiosity, had been since early childhood, with the passionate need to discover the essence of the woman who had given birth to him. Somewhere in the shadows of her house he might find a key to the true nature of his mother. Her faithful retainers would have something to give him. They must have served Sophia long and well for her to take such pains over their future. But he couldn’t ask them until his presence in the house was accepted.

Once again he banished reverie and brought himself back to the grim business that had brought him to this point. There was little time to waste. So should he change his tactics with Livia? Or increase the pressure on the assumption that he would eventually wear her down?

It was a decision he needed to make before the jaunt to Richmond in the morning.

“What happened?” Aurelia asked as Livia came into the parlor. “You’re in riding dress…you weren’t when you went out.”

“Actually I was,” Livia said, flinging herself onto the sofa. “It turned out that Alex had riding in mind, not walking. He brought the most beautiful horse for me to ride.” She debated whether to tell Aurelia the truth about the prince’s intentions regarding the silver, and decided not to for the moment.

“So you came in and changed?” Aurelia asked with a frown in her eyes. Something wasn’t quite right here.

“Precisely,” Livia replied airily. “And we’re going riding in Richmond Park tomorrow morning. I want to try the mare’s paces.”

“Oh, I see,” Aurelia said, not at all sure that she did.

“If Nick comes to call, will you make my apologies and tell him that I was called away?”

“Yes, of course. Are you expecting him?” She looked closely at Livia.

“I met him in the park. He said something about coming to call,” Livia said with a vague gesture. “Nothing definite.”

“I see,” Aurelia repeated, still not sure that she did. “But if I stay here, who’s going to chaperone you on your ride with the prince?”

Livia frowned. “I don’t need a chaperone, Ellie. No one will see us, no one need ever know about it.”

Aurelia shook her head. “You can’t be sure of that, and if you’re seen riding alone out of town with the prince, it’ll fuel a conflagration of gossip that won’t do your reputation any good at all. It’s one thing to ride in Hyde Park under everyone’s eye, quite another to seek the seclusion of Richmond.”

Livia chewed on her lower lip as she thought. Her friend was right, of course, but a chaperoned, decorous ride was most definitely not the point of tomorrow’s excursion. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Ellie’s company, quite the opposite, but not when she wanted the hint of danger, the sense of playing with fire, that seemed to accompany her meetings with Alexander Prokov. It was a realization she’d taken her time acknowledging, she had to admit to herself, but there were no two ways about it. Ordinary decorum and the Russian prince were not compatible, and that excited her and filled her with a heady, almost reckless sense of anticipation. There were any number of men she could ride perfectly pleasantly with in Richmond Park in Ellie’s company, but not Alexander Prokov.