Beauty and the Earl Page 24

  “The fault is mine.”

  She shook her head. “The fault belongs to Fedor, Gromeko, and Sergei.”

  A knock on the door drew their attention. Amber clung to him in a panic. “I do not want to see anyone. Please do not leave me.”

  Miles tightened his hold. “Do not enter this chamber,” he called.

  “My lord, may I serve you in any way?” The voice belonged to Joseph.

  “Bring a bowl of soup, a cup of tea, and a shot of vodka—”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Amber looked up. “You will not leave me today?”

  “I have no intention of leaving the house.”

  “Do not leave this room,” she cried.

  “I promise to stay by your side.”

  A short time later, another knock sounded on the door. “My lord?”

  “I am walking to the door to get the tray.” Miles rose from the bed and opened the door only far enough to take the tray. “Do not disturb us for the remainder of the day,” Miles instructed Joseph. “Bring a tray for two at the dinner hour. If Prince Rudolf returns, tell him I cannot leave the princess and will speak to him in the morning.”

  Miles returned to the bed. He set the tray down and handed Amber the shot of vodka, “Drink this. The vodka will relax you.”

  “But the baby—”

  “One shot of vodka will not hurt the baby.”

  Amber drank the vodka down in one gulp. She shivered as it burned a path to her stomach.

  Miles dipped the spoon into the soup and then raised the spoon to her mouth.

  “You do not need to feed me.”

  “I want to feed you.” When she finished the soup, Miles passed her the teacup. “Now drink this.”

  Amber sipped the tea. She glanced at the evening jacket wrapped around her shoulders and then at his formal attire. “You were awake all night searching for me.”

  Miles dropped his gaze. “I was awake all night.”

  “You look terrible.”

  “You look beautiful.” Miles set the tray on the floor and returned to his perch leaning against the headboard. He gathered her into his arms. “Sleep now.”

  “You will not leave me?”

  “I will never leave you.” Miles clutched her against his chest and stroked her back soothingly. When her breathing evened, he knew she slept.

  Miles closed his eyes. God forgive him for his lies, but he could not hurt his wife more by admitting he had doubted her. The problem was his, not hers. The damn scars had colored his judgment.

  * * *

  Amber felt more secure the next morning. She was willing to let her husband leave her bedchamber, though not the house.

  “How do you feel this morning?” Miles asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Much better.” Amber glanced at his clothing. Her husband still wore his evening attire. “You can leave this chamber if you want.”

  “I would like to clean myself,” Miles said. “I locked your door, and there is warm water on the table. Joseph will deliver breakfast to my chamber. I’ll call you when it arrives.”

  After he disappeared into his own chamber, Amber rose from the bed and checked the lock on her door. Then she washed and changed into a fresh nightgown. She had no intention of leaving her bedchamber, so there was no reason to dress.

  “Breakfast is served.” Miles knocked on the connecting door.

  Amber walked into her husband’s chamber and sat at the table placed in front of the hearth. The sunshine was missing from the smile she gave her husband.

  “Are you certain you feel better?”

  “I feel much better.” To prove her words, Amber lifted her fork and began to eat the eggs and ham on her plate.

  “Rudolf will want to speak with me this morning,” Miles said. “I will need to leave your chamber but will remain inside the house. I promise you have nothing to fear.”

  “Could Just-Pebbles guard the corridor outside my door?” Amber asked.

  Miles felt his heart wrench at her question. His wife was not better if she needed a guard outside a locked door. He wondered if she would ever recover.

  “Pebbles and I argued,” Miles told her. “He is no longer in my employ.”

  Amber felt her panic rising. The old majordomo was her friend. She needed him. “Where has he gone?”

  “My sister is harboring the old codger.” Miles gave her a rueful smile. “I will send a footman to bring him home and offer him a pay raise.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Caroline will want to visit today,” he said. “She missed you terribly.”

  “I would like to see Caroline.”

  Later that morning, Amber lay on her bed and tried to forget what had happened. When someone knocked on the door, she leaped off the bed in alarm and wrapped herself in her bedrobe.

  “Who is it?”

  “Just-Pebbles, Your Highness.”

  Amber unlocked and opened the door. She threw herself into the stunned majordomo’s arms. “Thank God you have returned.”

  “I am relieved to see you,” Pebbles said, patting her back, offering fatherly comfort.

  “You must have seen how frantic Miles was to find me,” Amber said, looking up at the older man. “You should not have deserted him.”

  “I apologize, Your Highness, and promise never to leave His Lordship again.”

  “Thank you, Just-Pebbles. That eases my mind.”

  Caroline visited her after lunch. The little girl dashed across the chamber, climbed on the bed, and threw herself in Amber’s arms.

  “I missed you, Mummy,” Caroline told her. “I cried every night.

  “I missed you more,” Amber said. “I cried every night, too.”

  “Daddy said you were gone forever and never coming home,” Caroline told her, “but I knew you loved me too much to leave me.”

  The girl’s remark puzzled Amber. Why had her husband told his daughter that she had gone forever? Had he become frustrated in his search for her and feared he would never find her?

  “How is your daddy?” Caroline asked.

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

  “Daddy said that your daddy wanted to see you before he went to heaven.”

  Amber was relieved that Miles had made up a story for her stepdaughter’s benefit. Caroline would have been frightened to learn she had been abducted.

  “My daddy feels much better.” Amber managed a smile for the girl. “He has postponed his trip to heaven.”

  “Will you need to see him some day?”

  “No, Caro, I promise to stay in Stratford with you and your baby brother.”

  Later that afternoon, Miles walked into her chamber and perched on the edge of the bed. “Wouldn’t you like to dress and sit with Caroline in the garden?”

  “No, thank you.” Amber refused to leave the safety of her bedchamber.

  “Fedor, Pushkin, and Gromeko are locked in the Russian embassy,” Miles told her. “They cannot harm you.”

  “I will sit in the garden tomorrow.”

  On the third day, Amber forced herself to get out of bed and dress. The Duke of Inverary had used his influence to save her from the humiliation and scandal of testifying in open court. Her presence in her husband’s office was required to give a deposition to the magistrate and the Russian ambassador.

  “Everyone has arrived,” Miles said, walking into her bedchamber. “Are you strong enough for this? We can postpone it for a few days.”

  Amber managed a faint smile, but her complexion was pale. “We cannot return to Stratford until I do this, and I want to go home.”

  “You need fear nothing,” Miles promised, holding her hand to escort her downstairs. “I will remain by your side. Let me know if you want to leave.”

  The English magistrate sat behind the desk. Count Korsekov, the Russian ambassador, sat nearby while Rudolf stood near the window. Two chairs had been placed in front of the desk.

  Amber trembled when she
saw the chairs, feeling as if she was on trial. What if they did not believe her? What if the authorities released Gromeko? Would she always be looking over her shoulder?

  Amber cast a nervous glance at her cousin. Rudolf winked at her.

  And then she knew. Her abductors would remain healthy in custody. But if they were freed, Rudolf would deal with them as he had Terrence Pines.

  “Your Highness, are you well enough to speak to us?” the magistrate asked.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “I thank you for the elevation in position,” the magistrate said with a kindly smile. “I am merely a sir.”

  Amber blushed at her mistake.

  The magistrate looked at Miles. He inclined his head, giving the man permission to continue.

  “Abduction and attempted bondage are serious charges to bring against a prince and two counts,” the magistrate said. “Pushkin, Gromeko, and Kazanov are confined to the Russian embassy.”

  “I understand.” Amber did not understand at all. A criminal was a criminal, no matter if he was a mister, a lord, or a royal.

  “Please tell us what happened,” the magistrate said.

  Amber hesitated, uncertain of where to begin. Then she felt her husband give her hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Start at the very beginning,” Miles said.

  “Last March I overheard Uncle Fedor selling me to Count Gromeko,” she said, staring at her lap. “Gromeko wanted to mate me with one of his slaves and sell my babies in the East.”

  Amber glanced at the Russian ambassador. “Because my father had never publicly acknowledged me, I could not seek his help. I sought refuge with my cousins in England.

  “Rudolf introduced me to Lord Montgomery, and we married. When we came to London for a visit, Sergei Pushkin appeared at our door and carried a letter from the czar, who indicated he wanted me to return to Moscow.”

  Miles passed the note to the magistrate who, in turn, handed it to Ambassador Korsekov. “This is a good forgery,” the ambassador said.

  “I had yearned for my father’s acknowledgment my whole life,” Amber said, “but the offer came too late.” She gave her husband a smiling glance. “I was a married lady and expecting my first child. My love and my allegiance belonged to my husband.”

  “Tell us what happened on the evening in question,” the magistrate said.

  “I danced with Count Pushkin at the Stanton ball. He said he was leaving England and wanted a private word with me. Someone hiding in the garden attacked me, and I awakened to find myself a captive.”

  “Did any of them touch you?” Ambassador Korsekov asked.

  “Fedor struck me and would have beaten me more, but Gromeko stopped him,” Amber answered. “Sergei tried to force himself on me, but I bit him.”

  All the men smiled at that.

  “Count Gromeko abducted you but did not attempt assault?” the ambassador asked.

  “Gromeko was waiting until I reached his—wherever he keeps slaves.”

  “Did he tell you this?”

  Amber blushed, humiliated almost beyond endurance. “Gromeko said he would take me into his bed whenever I was pregnant.” She looked in distress at her husband. “I want to leave now, Miles.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” the magistrate said, standing when she did. “The earl and the prince can answer anything else.”

  Ambassador Korsekov bowed over her hand. “Czar Alexander has never publicly acknowledged you, but he does care for you. The czar mentioned you many times to me, and I brought you his yearly gift when you were too young to remember.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Thank you for saying that. What will happen to them?”

  “I will personally escort them to Moscow and present your deposition to the czar,” the ambassador answered. “They will face Czar Alexander’s justice.”

  “You need never fear them,” Rudolf spoke up. “Returning to England would be unhealthy for those three.”

  “I did not hear that,” the magistrate said.

  “Neither did I,” the ambassador agreed.

  “Shall I help you upstairs?” Miles asked her.

  “I can manage on my own.”

  Amber went to her chamber to wait for the magistrate and the ambassador to leave. She wanted to be done with this nightmare. She wanted to go home. She wanted to feel safe.

  Standing at the window, Amber gazed at the barren garden. Then she noticed the rosebush, mutilated almost beyond recognition.

  Amber hurried downstairs. The foyer was deserted, and someone was knocking on the door. She hesitated a moment, summoning the courage to open the door.

  “Your Highness,” her husband’s barrister said in obvious surprise, stepping into the foyer.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Smythe,” Amber greeted the man. “Did you wish to speak with His Lordship?”

  “Actually, I need to give you these documents,” Smythe answered, passing her the sealed papers. “Read and sign those, please. Then return them to my office, if you will. Thank you, Your Highness, and good day to you.”

  Amber stared at the sealed papers in confusion. Who would be sending her legal documents? She looked up when the majordomo walked into the foyer.

  “I thought I heard the door,” Pebbles said.

  “Mr. Smythe brought me these,” Amber said, holding the documents up, “but he did not wish to speak to the earl.” She started down the corridor in the direction of the garden door.

  “Your Highness, those are not for you,” Pebbles called.

  Amber heard him but did not stop. She needed to see that rosebush.

  “My lord—” came the majordomo’s distant shout.

  Amber ignored it. She stepped into the garden and did not stop until she stood in front of the dead rosebush.

  Miles arrived in the garden a few minutes later. He put his arm around her and drew her against the side of his body. “We can leave for Stratford whenever we want.”

  “Who did this?” Amber asked, her gaze on the rosebush.

  “I believed you had betrayed me,” Miles admitted. “In anger, I hacked the rosebush to death.”

  Amber stepped away from him. “You believed I had betrayed you?”

  “Yes.”

  Daddy said you were gone forever and never coming home.

  Pain ripped through her, making speaking difficult. “You did not search three days for me?”

  Her husband remained silent. Which answered her question.

  “Why did you search for me that day?”

  Misery was etched across her husband’s face. He stepped toward her.

  Amber was not inclined to forgive. She held her hand up in a gesture telling him to remain where he stood. “Answer my question.”

  “Rudolf stopped by that morning,” Miles said. “He read your secret cry for help in the runes.”

  “You were willing to lose me.”

  “I was not willing.”

  Amber could not control the shudder that shook her body. “If Rudolf had not chanced to visit, I would be on my way—” She left the frightening thought unfinished.

  “I regret you suffered three days because of my inaction,” Miles said. “Believe me, love, I am sorry.”

  “I am sorry, too. Do not use the word love in my presence again.”

  “We will return to Stratford and begin anew,” Miles said. “I will never forgive myself, nor will I ever mistrust you again.” He dropped his gaze to the papers in her hand. “Pass me those documents, and we will go home.”

  Amber looked from her husband to the documents and then back at him. “Smythe told me to sign and return these to him.”

  “Smythe made a mistake,” Miles said, and held his hand out. “Give them to me.”

  Her husband did not want her to see what the documents contained. Amber broke the seal and stared in horror at what was written. The first was her husband’s petition for divorce, the second a court order forbidding her to leave England until she gave birt
h and relinquished the baby to her husband.

  Amber trembled with horror and heartbreak. She let the documents slip from her fingers and, without another word, walked away.

  Her husband wanted to divorce her.

  Her husband intended to take her baby.

  Her husband did not love her.

  Chapter 19

  Miles watched his wife disappear inside the mansion. He was getting what he deserved for doubting her, for planning a divorce, and for intending to take the baby.

  The late October afternoon faded into twilight making the barren garden seem melancholy. Miles wished his troubles would fade away like the daylight. Why did people fail to recognize a treasure until it was gone?

  Miles picked the divorce papers and court orders off the ground. Why hadn’t he tried to find her to speak with her before taking such a foolish action? He could have saved himself and his wife much heartache.

  All roads led back to the damn scars. He hadn’t bothered to search for her because he had been so certain of her rejection. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

  What should he do now? How could he ever make things right between them? Amber would never forgive him. He could not fault her for that.

  Men had been the bane of his wife’s entire life. A father who had never acknowledged her, making her a social outcast. A stepfather who had murdered her mother, making her an orphan. A ruthless uncle who sold her into sexual slavery. A beloved friend who had betrayed her for money, and a husband who had distrusted her.

  The princess’s remarkable ability to love was one of God’s miracles. She should have been bitter and suspicious. Instead, she had handed him her heart and placed her trust in him.

  He had failed her. He had trampled on her heart. He was no better than the other self-centered, cold-hearted bastards in her life.

  Miles returned to the mansion and, walking into the foyer, sat on the bottom stair. He looked at the majordomo. “She read the documents.”

  “I know.”

  Miles looked at his old retainer. “Don’t you want to say I told you so?”

  Pebbles sat on the stair beside him. “Will you feel better if I do?”

  “How do I fix this?”

  “Take Her Highness home to Stratford and give her time to heal,” the majordomo advised him. “She will forgive you. Eventually.”