Beauty and the Earl Read online

  “I do not miss Moscow at all,” Amber said, also speaking Russian. “Of course, my four cousins reside in England. I imagine I have more relatives here than there.”

  “Surely, you miss your father.”

  “I have no father.”

  Baron Slominsky looked confused. “Czar Alexander is your father, is he not?”

  “Czar Alexander sired me,” Amber corrected him, echoing the words her husband had once spoken. “He has never publicly acknowledged our relationship.”

  “Sergei said—”

  “Sergei speaks too freely about matters that do not concern him,” Amber interrupted. “I have never met the czar, nor do I intend to meet him.” Their conversation was becoming much too personal. “If you do not mind, I would prefer to sit this waltz out.”

  The baron gave her a conciliatory smile and escorted her off the dance floor. “I will soon be returning home to my wife.”

  “The baroness must miss you,” Amber said, her head beginning to ache from being polite.

  “I journeyed to England to procure a certain jewel that interested us,” Baron Slominsky said, walking with her down the length of the ballroom. “My wife could not tolerate journeying so far from home.”

  “Did you procure your jewel?”

  “Yes, thank you, I have. My business in England will soon be completed.”

  Amber realized the baron might know her uncle. “Do you know Fedor Kazanov?”

  “I know him by sight,” the baron answered, “but I have never made his acquaintance.”

  “Have you, by chance, seen Fedor in London?”

  Baron Slominsky paused to think and then shook his head. “I do not recall seeing him.” Nearing the ballroom’s entrance, he suggested, “Shall we stroll in the garden?”

  Amber refused to leave her husband in the company of Vanessa Stanton. “I do not think—”

  “You look pale,” Baron Slominsky said, refusing to take no for an answer. “A breath of fresh air will bring the roses back to your cheeks.”

  “Fresh air in London?” Prince Stepan said, his tone sardonic. With him stood Prince Rudolf, his arms folded across his chest. “I need your assistance in a private matter, cousin.”

  Baron Slominsky inclined his head. “Another time, perhaps.”

  “Thank you for rescuing me,” Amber said, once the baron had left. “How may I help you?”

  “Fancy retired to the ladies’ withdrawing room,” Stepan told her. “Something upset her, and I am worried.”

  “I will speak with her,”

  “Wait one moment,” Rudolf said, and leaned close. “Georgiana wears jasmine, Sarah wears rose, and Vanessa wears gardenia.”

  “Thank you, cousin.”

  “Keep your distance from Slominsky,” Rudolf cautioned her.

  “Do you think he is dangerous?”

  “I do not like the man. He could be trouble.”

  “Thank you for the warning.” She looked at Stepan. “I will see your lady now.”

  Miss Fancy Flambeau stood alone in the withdrawing room. Obviously weeping, she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

  Amber placed a hand on the woman’s arm, drawing her attention. “May I help you, Miss Flambeau?”

  Fancy shook her head. She seemed to compose herself, but her bottom lip trembled with the effort. “I have had disturbing news this evening,” the opera singer told her. “I have learned who sired me and my sisters.”

  Amber gave her a blank look. “I do not understand.”

  “My French aristocratic mother escaped the Terror,” Fancy explained. “Penniless and unskilled, she found employment at the opera and caught the attention of a handsome nobleman by whom she had seven daughters.”

  “You have six sisters?” Amber echoed in surprise.

  The opera singer nodded. “At twenty, I am the oldest.”

  “Your song tonight described your mother?”

  “At her death, my mother still loved her nobleman,” Fancy told her, a bitter edge to her voice. “She had not seen him in ten years. He sent money by way of his solicitor, but never attended her funeral. Now the villain wants his daughters and intends to secure honorable marriages for them.”

  “Does this nobleman have a wife?” Amber asked.

  “His second wife is childless and wants to mother his girls.”

  “You do not wish to acknowledge his paternity?”

  “The man does not deserve my acknowledgment,” Fancy said, “but he threatened to cause problems for me at the opera.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I agreed to send him my six sisters,” she answered, “but I will be alone without them.”

  “You have had more than I ever did,” Amber told her. “I have been alone my whole life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The life of a princess is not necessarily as wonderful as it appears. I will tell you my story when you visit to serenade the rosebush. Come, Stepan is worried about you.”

  “The prince wants to make me his mistress,” Fancy said, “but I refuse to become my mother.”

  “Then do not become your mother.” Amber led her out of the withdrawing room. “Fate may be kinder to you.”

  Rudolf had disappeared, but Miles stood in the corridor and spoke with her cousin. Stepan rushed to the opera singer’s side as soon as they appeared.

  “I will expect you to visit soon,” Amber said.

  “Your Highness, would you care to dance with me?” Miles asked, when they were alone.

  “Where are Georgiana, Sarah, and Vanessa?”

  “How did I know you were going to say that?” Miles teased her. “Where is Sergei?”

  Amber gave him a jaunty smile. “Sergei is nursing a broken heart.”

  Miles laughed at that

  “I am feeling tired,” Amber said. “Do you mind if we leave?”

  “Your wish is my command, Your Highness.” With his hand on the small of her back, Miles guided her toward the stairs.

  “I want to go home to Stratford.”

  “We will go home, my love, before the end of the month.”

  Chapter 15

  “Where has Caroline disappeared?”

  “She and Nanny Smart are practicing the alphabet,” Amber answered, without taking her gaze off the paper.

  Admiring her profile, Miles stared at her a long moment. “Why are you searching the Times?”

  Amber lifted her gaze to his. “I want to see if there is any mention of Fedor.”

  “Rudolf has agents watching all incoming ships,” Miles told her. “I think Fedor gave up and remained in Moscow.”

  “You do not know Fedor Kazanov.”

  “Will you pass every day of your life wondering if your uncle is about to whisk you back to Russia?”

  “Until I get news of his death, yes.”

  Miles opened his mouth to reply, but Isabelle and Samantha walked into the dining room.

  “Good morning,” Isabelle called.

  “Are you ready?” Samantha asked.

  Amber nodded and looked at her husband. “I will return in a few hours.”

  “Tell the shopkeepers to send me the bills, but try not to pauper me.” Miles looked at the other women. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

  “I have brought my large reticule and you-know-what,” Isabelle told her brother.

  “And I have a certain sharp object strapped to my leg,” Samantha added.

  Miles smiled. “Do your husbands know how naughty you are?”

  “Yes,” they chimed together.

  The three women left the dining room. Amber paused in the foyer to don her cloak.

  “Your Highness,” Pebbles called, hurrying after them. He drew three letters from his jacket pocket and passed them to her. “These arrived earlier.”

  “Jasmine, Rose, and Gardenia are certainly persistent,” Amber said, and stuffed the perfumed letters into her reticule.

  Pebbles opened the door for them. “Enjoy your excu
rsion.”

  * * *

  After the women had gone, Miles walked upstairs to his office. He tried to concentrate on ledgers, but thoughts of his wife kept intruding.

  Amber needed and deserved to hear the words I love you. What prevented him from saying them? If he said the words out loud, would fate find a way to hurt him?

  There was also the matter of Fedor Kazanov. In spite of what he had said to his wife, Rudolf felt positive that Fedor would not give up his plan for Amber. Fedor was in London already.

  Where was the villain hiding? Who was hiding him? His first thought had been Sergei, but Rudolf said Pushkin enjoyed an outstanding reputation, never a hint of scandal or underhandedness.

  And then there was Sergei Pushkin’s gossip. Knowing his wife had plans with his sister, Miles had sent the Russian a note, summoning him to Berkeley Square, but had no idea if the man would show.

  Pebbles walked into his office. “Count Pushkin has arrived.”

  “Escort the count to me.”

  Miles wandered to the window while he waited. A moment later the Russian count walked into his office.

  Miles turned around, his gaze cold on the other man. He gestured to a chair. “Please sit down.”

  “I prefer to stand.”

  Miles inclined his head. The two rivals for the princess’s affection faced each other across the chasm of the desk.

  “I will come directly to the point,” Miles said. “Keep your mouth shut about my wife’s family history, or I will kill you.”

  “You can try to kill me,” Sergei said. “Does her family history embarrass you?”

  “Amber considers you her oldest and dearest friend,” Miles said. “Your betrayal hurt her deeply.”

  “I spoke without thinking,” Sergei said, “but I never meant to hurt her.”

  “Would you consider writing her a note of apology?”

  “If you give me parchment and quill,” Sergei said, sitting in the chair, “I will do that now.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  While Miles and Sergei were speaking, the ladies rode in the duchess’s open carriage in Hyde Park. Isabelle looked over her shoulder and instructed her driver, “Stop over there, Johnny.”

  “Why are we stopping?” Amber asked. “Do you not think we should shop first?”

  “We have hours to shop,” Samantha said.

  “I cannot believe women are sending my brother perfumed letters,” Isabelle said. “Let’s read them.”

  “That would be wrong,” Amber said.

  “You stole your husband’s mail,” Samantha said. “We may as well read them.”

  “Well, if you really think—”

  “We do,” Isabelle and Samantha interrupted.

  Amber opened the jasmine-scented letter. It said:

  I must speak privately with you and will call at one o’clock today.

  Georgiana.

  “Do you think Georgiana will mention the letters?” Amber asked.

  “I am certain she thinks Miles ignored her letters,” Isabelle answered.

  “She won’t mention them,” Samantha agreed. “Open the next one.”

  Amber opened the rose-scented letter. It said:

  I have urgent news for you and will call at Berkeley Square at two o’clock.

  Sarah.

  “I do hope Georgiana stays late and Sarah arrives early,” Isabelle said.

  “That would be a delicious situation,” Samantha said.

  Amber said nothing, worried that her crimes were about to be exposed. She opened the gardenia-scented letter. It said:

  I desperately need your advice about a financial investment and will visit you at three o’clock today.

  Vanessa.

  “That woman is dangerous,” Isabelle said.

  Amber knew she was caught. “I need to go home before they arrive.”

  “You must delay as long as possible,” Isabelle advised her.

  “If we don’t shop for baby clothes,” Samantha said, “Miles will become suspicious.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” Baron Slominsky had halted his mount beside their carriage. “Something is making for interesting reading.”

  “We are indulging in silly women’s gossip,” Isabelle said.

  Amber stuffed the letters into her reticule. Then she smiled at the watching baron.

  “Will I be seeing you ladies at Vanessa Stanton’s costume ball?” the baron asked.

  “Yes,” all three answered at the same time.

  “I am requesting that each of you save me a waltz,” he said.

  “We will,” they chirped, sounding like schoolgirls.

  Baron Slominsky laughed. “Good day to you.” With that, he rode away.

  * * *

  “My lord?”

  Miles looked at his majordomo.

  “The Countess of Dorset requests an interview.”

  Georgiana Devon? That surprised him. “Escort the countess to me.”

  “Shall I serve refreshment?”

  “That will be unnecessary.” Miles stood when Georgiana walked into his office. He smiled in greeting and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “My lady, please be seated.”

  Georgiana sat down and smiled at him.

  “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  “You did not receive my note?” Georgiana asked, looking puzzled.

  “You sent me a note?”

  Georgiana nodded. “I sent you several notes. The latest was this morning.”

  That surprised Miles, though his expression remained placid. “Pebbles is getting old. I must have been occupied when your note arrived, and he simply forgot to deliver it.”

  “No harm done,” Georgiana said.

  “What can I do for you?” Miles asked.

  “That, my lord, is a loaded question,” she said, her smile flirtatious.

  Georgiana Devon could not be making a play for him. Could she?

  “Tell me the purpose for your visit,” Miles said, “except, of course, for brightening my day.”

  Georgiana blushed right on cue. Miles had always admired her ability to do that.

  “I have heard disturbing news about your wife and thought you should know.”

  Miles knew what she was going to say. “Enlighten me.”

  “Princess Amber is illegitimate issue,” Georgiana said, lowering her voice. “Her legal father murdered her mother and then committed suicide.”

  “Yes, I know.” Miles stood in a gesture of dismissal. “Our parents’ actions, right or wrong, have nothing to do with our worth. Come, Georgiana. I’ll walk you to the foyer.”

  Clearly unhappy, Georgiana stood and left the study with him. “Perhaps we could ride together one morning.”

  “My wife and I would enjoy riding with you, but not at this time,” Miles said. “Amber is carrying my heir, and mornings are difficult for her.”

  “I commend your sensitivity,” Georgiana said. “Too bad all husbands are not as sympathetic as you.”

  Miles kissed her hand and then opened the front door for her. He turned to the majordomo. “Did Lady Devon send me a note?”

  “Oh, my lord, I am so sorry,” Pebbles answered. “You were unavailable, and the note slipped my mind. I’m not sure I even remember where I put it.”

  “Don’t concern yourself about that.”

  Miles walked upstairs to his office and opened one of his business ledgers, but his thoughts strayed from profits and losses. Georgiana had sent him several notes, but he had received none. He could not believe that Pebbles had forgotten to deliver several notes.

  Nearly an hour later, Pebbles walked into his office. “My lord, the Marchioness of Arlington requests an interview.”

  Sarah Pole? What could she possibly want? “Escort the marchioness to me.”

  “Shall I serve refreshment?”

  Miles smiled, realizing they were replaying the earlier scene. “That will be unnecessary.” He stood when Sarah walked into
his office and gestured to the chair in front of the desk. “My lady, please be seated.”

  Sarah Pole sat down and smiled at him.

  Miles sat when she did. “Did you send me a note?’

  “I sent you several notes. Didn’t you receive them?”

  “Alas, Pebbles is forgetful in his advancing years,” Miles said. “Let me guess. You have heard disturbing gossip about my wife.”

  “You know about her disreputable family?” Sarah asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

  “Princess Amber revealed her family history before we married,” Miles said. “I would appreciate your silence regarding this. Amber carries my heir, whom I would not want tarnished by gossip before he is even born.”

  “You can depend upon me.”

  Miles stood in a gesture of dismissal. “Come, Sarah. I will escort you to the foyer.”

  Sarah Pole stood and left the office with him. “Perhaps we could dine some evening?”

  “I would love to dine with you,” Miles said. “Send Amber the invitation, and we will attend your dinner party.”

  Miles kissed her hand and then opened the front door for her. He turned to the majordomo again. “Did Lady Pole send me a note?”

  “Oh, my lord, I am so sorry,” Pebbles repeated his earlier words, his face a brilliant red.

  Embarrassment or guilt? Pebbles had never forgotten anything before. If he questioned his wife, would Amber redden with guilt or embarrassment, too?

  Miles suppressed the urge to laugh in his majordomo’s face. Georgiana Devon and Sarah Pole always scented their notes with perfume. Amber had enlisted his majordomo’s aid to intercept those notes. He didn’t know if he should be angry or flattered by her jealousy.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Miles returned to his office to work on his profits and losses.

  “My lord, the Countess of Tewksbury requests an interview.”

  Miles shifted his gaze to Pebbles. Vanessa Stanton? Somehow that did not surprise him. Were there more undelivered notes?

  “Escort the countess to me.”

  “Shall I serve refreshment?”

  “The lady won’t be staying that long,” Miles answered. “Interrupt us in ten minutes.”

  The majordomo grinned. “Very good, my lord,”

  “Pebbles? You always disapproved of Vanessa Stanton, didn’t you?”