Page 184 of Snowbound Surrender
“Put that away,” she hissed. “Maxim!”
He stared, utter confusion on his face. It was clear he had no comprehension of the offence his act had just given.
Sir Thomas sat down in a chair heavily. “My dear boy, you think that’s what this is all about? Money?”
For the first time in their conversation together, Maxim looked uncomfortable. “Sir, where I come from, it is money that is required to alleviate any hint of dishonour. It is money that resolves the upset between two families – I meant no disrespect.”
“Well, that is not how things work here, in England,” Sir Thomas snapped. “Here, ‘tis honour and honour alone that can resolve situations – and honour is the only thing that will rectify this terrible error in judgement on you both.”
It was at that moment that Anne realised what her father was suggested. “No.”
“‘Tis the only way!”
“But it was only…” Her cheeks flushed as she tried to say calmly, “Father, it was only a kiss. Just one, and if the footman had not entered the room, no one would be any the wiser.”
“If the footman had not entered the room, I dread to think would have occurred,” her father snapped.
Shame filled Anne’s heart as she dropped her gaze. She would not have permitted anyone to speak to her like that, but after everything that had happened, her father had that right.
“What are you talking about?” Maxim’s voice was calm, almost curious.
Anne took a deep breath. “My father,” she said, “is thinking of marriage.”
Maxim looked between her and her father. “Well, you are a little old, Sir Thomas, but I will think about it.”
His laughter was cut shortly abruptly by the glare from both Marshes.
“A marriage, even just one for convenience, is the only way to repair Anne’s reputation,” Sir Thomas said heavily. “The only way.”
Anne opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again. She could think of no other solution, and it was embarrassing to think that at the age of nine and twenty, she had thrown away any chances of independent life because of a kiss.
But, what a kiss…
“Anne’s name will be ruined by breakfast time,” Sir Thomas said, a little harshly. “It will not take long for that footman to tella few people, and they will tell a few, and before you know it all the gossips in London will know. It will be over for her.”
“And for Meredith.” Anne was surprised to find she had spoken aloud, but as she caught her father’s eye, she knew he had considered it too. “She would never make a match with such scandal in the family.”
Sir Thomas sighed. “It is not a question of if, but when. There will be a scandal, Annika, but what we need to decide is what we can do to reduce the size of the scandal.”
But they had forgotten someone.
“Excuse me,” said Maxim hotly, staring at the pair of them, “but I think you are forgetting something! I am a Czar, and I should be marrying a princess of another realm!”
Fierce irritation rose up in Anne’s stomach, despite her own frustration with her father’s suggestion. Did he not believe her to be good enough for him? A gentleman who says he deserves a throne in a country hundreds of miles away, a tale that no one believed?
“Whether you are a Czar in Russia or not, you are no one here,” said Sir Thomas cuttingly. “I mean no disrespect, sir, but here you have no title, no nobility, no wealth, no rank. If anything, you should be grateful to receive the hand of an English gentlewoman.”
“I am not a cow at the meat market, ready to be parcelled off to the highest bidder!” Anne glared at her father, and at Maxim for good measure. “You have no need to marry me, sir, and I quite understand why you do not wish to.”
Maxim openedhis mouth and then closed it again. The words he had been about to say now seemed hollow, empty. And why?
Because a small part of him but one that was growing with every minute, did wish to marry Anne.
It was madness! He was a Czar, he should be approached by kings offering the hands of their daughters. Instead, he had this baronet almost beg him to take his daughter off his hands.
It did not make sense, but neither did the fact that his body had reacted so strongly when he had kissed her. And what a kiss: wild, and wonderful, and incomparable to any other kiss he had stolen over the years.
True, marriage could not have been further from his mind when he had arrived at St. James’ Court, but he had other pressures to consider. Would a marriage with an English woman be the perfect opportunity to distract the gossipers from digging into his supposed past?
