Page 179 of Snowbound Surrender

Page List

Font Size:

If this had been any other time or place, then he would have wooed this woman. Anne Marsh. Her name was so unassuming, and it would have been easy to overlook her. No young spring chit, but not old at all. Maturity without being maturity. Braverthan a new girl to the Season, but with all of the elegance that a few years out gave a person.

Yes, he would have wooed her, perhaps even stolen a kiss from her under the mistletoe on Christmas Day. As it was, he must not get distracted.

He already had a huge battle ahead of him, and if he was going to be successful in getting his royal title confirmed by the Prince Regent, he must not take his eyes away from his prize.

Even if the distraction was a dazzling woman…

Who at this point, looked a little confused. “I do not understand. Did you intend to keep your identity a secret, while at the same time attempting to claim your title? How are you meant to be recognised as a Czar if you also want to keep yourself a secret?”

For an instant, Maxim considered just lying. He barely knew this woman; he was not beholden to tell her the truth, and he could not be sure to trust her. But just a glance at her open expression, blue eyes wide and curious, her dark hair piled up in the latest fashion, he felt in his gut that he could trust her.

There was something about Anne Marsh. Something that drew him in. He could tell, though he could not exactly put his finger on why, she made him feel safe – and at the same time, wild and reckless.

He would tell her something. He did not need to tell her the full story, anyway.

“I am a Czar,” he said quietly. “But not the Czar. In Russia, titles are a little more plentiful.”

Anne’s eyes widened. “So, a little like a duke or an earl?”

Maxim shrugged. “I suppose so, although we have those too. The Russian royal family is…complicated. And yes, I have a secret, one that I cannot tell enticing women, even if I wanted to. Enticing as you are.”

He had expected her to simper, to smile at his flattery. But Miss Marsh did not stop surprising him as she threw back her head and laughed.

“Come now, Maxim, I think we are friends now. You do not need to fall back on old habits.”

“Habits?”

Anne’s eyes glittered as she smiled. “Are gentlemen not taught to flatter ladies almost as soon as they are introduced to society? I know I certainly was taught how to accept them, but I am too old to curtsey every time anyone says anything pretty – and besides, you should save your compliments for women who could believe them. Enticing?”

She smiled again, a knowing smile that made Maxim shiver slightly.

How could she not consider herself enticing? Every bone in his body was drawn to her, desperate to be closer.

He looked again a little more closely. Miss Anne Marsh had the kind of beauty that the English were famous for; gentle, elegant, and unshowy. You could walk past her fine eyes and laughing expression and think nothing of her, but if you took more than a minute to examine that expression, you would see more than mere laughter there.

She was beautiful, and Maxim had to swallow down the physical attraction that was welling up within him in a way he had not experienced before. His heart was beating a little faster than he had expected, and he could feel the temptation to step closer, to be nearer, growing in the pit of his stomach.

“You are,” he said with frank honesty, “the most beautiful woman at St. James Court.”

Anne looked around the room and Maxim followed her gaze, taking in the Christmas decorations which had been decked around the room. Holly and other evergreen branches had been brought in, woven with gold and silver bells. Gold ribbonsadorned every part of the room, glittering in the weak sunlight pouring through the windows, and there was mistletoe dotted about the room.

Maxim swallowed and looked above him. None there, and it was a good thing too. He would cause quite a stir if he kissed a lady he was not married to, here in public – let alone one he had met merely minutes before.

Anne was shaking her head. “It is clear, Your Grace, that your flirtation has got the better of you! There are scores of women here far more beautiful – but I thank you. I must admit, talking to you has been the nicest part of my visit here today. Will you be here the entire Christmas season?”

Maxim opened his mouth to answer, but was distracted by an elderly gentleman who was waving at Anne.

His heart sank. Surely she could not be married to that old soul? To be sure, you saw marriages with unequal ages all the time, but that would be ridiculous! And he had called her Miss Marsh, and she had not corrected him…

Maxim’s heart sank even further as a young girl, almost approaching womanhood, wandered up to the elderly gentleman and took his hand. They both waved over to Anne, evidently beckoning her over to them.

A child as well!

Why did he feel so despondent? He hardly knew her, and yet already the idea that she was unattainable had cast gloom over his heart.

“You must excuse me,” Anne said quietly. “I can see that my father wants me.”

Her words caused Maxim’s spirits to lift. She was not married to him, then.