Page 94 of My Hellion, My Heart
Irina nodded, turning in his arms to reassure him. “Yes, of course.” She lowered her voice, her lips brushing his ear. “Though I’d rather still be naked in bed with you.”
“Christ, Irina, don’t say such things to me in public,” he said with a laughing groan, holding her close to nuzzle her head before releasing her. “But soon, love, you have my promise.”
A short while later they descended toward the familiar carriage that awaited them. Henry’s message to Lord Bradburne had been delivered, and it seemed the duke had sent the earl’s carriage to meet them in Dover. Henry deposited Irina next to the coach while he went to finalize some business with the ship’s captain.
“Hello, Billings,” she said, recognizing Henry’s driver, who stood at stiff attention. A young footman stood near the horses.
“Your Highness,” Billings said with a short bow. “May I?” he asked, extending his arm to seat her in the conveyance.
Eying the inside of the dark box, Irina shook her head, preferring to stay outside until the very last moment. “I would rather wait for his lordship, thank you, Billings.”
Henry remained deep in conversation with the harbormaster and an official-looking man dressed in a dark tweed suit. The shorter, weasel-faced man looked agitated, his hands gesturing impatiently, but Henry didn’t seem too bothered by the discussion. Irina glanced into the carriage, at the box beneath the seat that held the bourdaloue. She had no maid or traveling companion for the return journey, and the thought of relieving herself in front of Henry, despite their recent intimacy, made her blush.
It seemed as though he would be a while, so she decided to make a quick stop in the nearby coaching inn prior to the long journey. “I’ll be back shortly,” she said to Billings. “I don’t wish to disturb Lord Langlevit.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” He signaled the footman. “Needham will accompany you.”
She felt Henry’s eyes turn toward her as she crossed the cobbled courtyard, and she smiled to reassure him. He frowned but nodded. Inside, the inn was noisy, though it didn’t seem to be crowded. Needham followed closely behind as she made her way to the ladies’ cloakroom, where she tended to her needs while he waited. Given the amount of human traffic the inn saw, it was not the most pleasant of spaces.
Hurrying back into the corridor, she blinked, realizing that Needham wasn’t where she’d left him. The narrow hallway was strangely empty. A short shriek left her lips as a hand clapped over her mouth and she was dragged backward and through a door, into a smaller side courtyard. Irina struggled wildly, though she was no match for her captor’s strength. She was bundled roughly into a waiting carriage.
As the door was shut behind her, she stared into the calm face of a well-dressed, well-groomed Max. He looked a far cry from the bedraggled man she’d seen last, in Calais. But despite his peaceful countenance, a hint of madness glinted in his eyes. He held a pistol pointed at her.
“What are you doing, Max? Henry will kill you.”
His lips flattened, but then he smiled. “No hellos? No ‘I’ve missed you, Max’? Sad to think you’ve forgotten me so quickly.”
The carriage started to move, and she lurched forward reaching for the door, but a quick flick of the pistol made her freeze. “I do love you, my darling,” Max said, “but I won’t hesitate to use this. Not that I want to harm one hair on your head.”
Irina exhaled and sat back. “Max, you must let go of this scheme. I won’t marry you. It’s over. Please don’t make it any worse than it is.” Her voice shook. “You know what Henry’s capable of. He won’t rest until he finds me.”
“By the time he realizes you are gone, we will be far from this place.” He leaned forward. “And when he does find you,ifhe does, it will be too late.”
Fear gripped her as she stared at the cold, implacable face of her friend. He was deadly serious, she realized. “Why are you doing this? For money? I will gladly give you whatever you need. But don’t do this, please.”
Something flashed across his face. Doubt maybe. But then his expression hardened. “It isn’t just about the money, Irina dear. It’s about respectability. You are the answer to my father’s prayers. You see, I wrote him a letter about our betrothal. And do you know what he responded with? He welcomed me back with open arms. I’ll no longer be the bastard black sheep, Max Remi, but Maxim Ivan Remisov, son and heir of Count Remisov.”
“You told him we were engaged?”
Max tapped the pistol thoughtfully in his palm. “Only that you had indicated an interest in a union. My father’s shallow response was nothing short of predictable. Wed her, bed her, get her with an heir, and you shall be reinstated in the family fold.”
Irina felt something cold and despairing slide through her.
“But you said you never wanted to go back to him. You hate him.”
“I do.” His jaw clenched. “And I will destroy him once my inheritance is mine. And you, my darling, are a critical piece of that process.”
“Max, please…” She reached out a hand to him. “I adore you. You’ve been like a brother to me, but I can’t. I can’t marry you. I’m already betrothed to Henry. I’ve already accepted him.” Her face flushed. “And we…we… I could already be with child.”
It was entirely the wrong thing to say, and she knew it as soon as the words left her mouth. Max’s expression blackened, fury making his nostrils flare. Rage glittered in his eyes before it was eclipsed by a knowing leer. “You surprising little tart. Well, at least now we won’t have to worry about awkward first times. And no matter, anything that comes out of that body will be a Remisov.”
Keeping the pistol trained on her, Max reached into his coat pocket for a square of linen and a small bottle. “What are you doing? What is that?” she asked, her eyes going wide.
“Ether. Delightfully fun at soirees, but even more useful for silencing uncooperative princesses.”
“No, Max, no!” She fought, but as the linen settled over her nose and mouth and she inhaled the sickly sweet aroma, she felt her strength fading. Soon Max, the carriage, and the world disappeared altogether.
…
