Page 186 of Snowbound Surrender

Her tone was not exactly joyful, but despite this, Maxim found a flicker of joy curl around his heart. So, he would be receiving a bride for Christmas.

CHAPTER 5

The deep breaththat Anne brought into her lungs did nothing to calm her nerves, nor keep her hands from shaking.

She could barely believe it. There he was. The Royal Prince George of England. Prinny.

Despite St. James’ Court being one of his favourite places, he almost never actually attended, but of course on the day that her marriage of convenience was announced, there he was.

“…terrible complexion,” he was saying to someone as he lounged in the throne at one end of the room. “I could barely look at her for more than two minutes together, I ask you! How did…”

“This is it.”

Maxim’s voice was barely above a whisper but they were standing so close together, it seemed to echo into Anne’s mind. She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

“You know,” he continued in a whisper, “I believe this is the perfect opportunity for me to speak with His Royal Highness about my claim to the title of Czar!”

Anne chuckled under her breath, attempting to ignore the pointed stares radiating towards her from many faces aroundthe room. “You think my father will allow you to distract the court from our impending marriage?”

Looking down, she saw her own hand on his arm. It had been placed there by her father, and it felt strange to see them so tangibly connected, and in public too.

To think: she had expected to come here, while away the hours of boredom as agreed with her father, perhaps spend a little more time with Meredith, and then return home.

Instead, she appeared to have gained a fiancé – and one who was not only handsome and charming, but claimed a royal title too!

Anne swallowed down the excitement and forced herself to remember that this was all an act. None of it mattered. She was going to tell Maxim on Christmas Eve that she could not marry him, just as they planned.

It was not as though they were actually going to be wed…

The mere thought of it forced an image into her mind, and it made her gasp aloud, it was so forceful. There she was, in her favourite gown – none of this court formality, just a simple muslin gown in a light blue – and before her was Maxim, in his finery as a Russian Czar. They stood together, at the altar of a church, and he was placing a ring on her finger.

Anne felt her cheeks blush and forced the image aside. Glancing up at Maxim, she tried to consider him as objectively as possible. Would marriage to him really be so awful?

He was personable, at least. In fact, she could probably listen to him all day. That kiss he had stolen, not that she had forced him away, had proven they were compatible in that way…

“Miss Anne Marsh, daughter of Sir Thomas Marsh, of Romney.”

Anne jumped at the sound of her own name being so formally presented in a loud voice by a servant in the largest powdered wig she had ever seen.

“Miss Anne Marsh?” Prinny looked over with a sneer. Anne felt her cheeks darken as he continued, “I have never heard of her. Who is she?”

A courtier, dressed in the court fashions which had never been permitted to be altered, leaned over into the prince’s ear, and whispered something.

Prinny’s gaze moved to her. Anne pinked, curtseying low as Max clicked his heels and bowed.

The prince snorted. “Ah, the so-called Czar, eh? Now Matthews, you were telling me earlier the most delicious bit of gossip and I did not hear the end of the tale. Was she really…”

It was only in that moment that Anne realised she had been holding her breath, and she allowed it to escape her lungs slowly, the tension she had not felt in her shoulders starting to lessen.

She glanced up at Maxim and caught the full weight of his disappointment – but then it was gone. He was smiling, and Anne knew he had forced down his emotions before the Royal Court.

“Well,” he said quietly, “he knows who I am now. That is a start.”

Anne could barely hear his final words due to the rising muttering around the room. Some were even starting to point as their chatter rose in volume.

“We are going to have to become accustomed to this, you know,” she said quietly, her hand squeezing his arm briefly. “All this gossip, the pointing, the wondering, the rumours…”

“What do you mean, this is fantastic,” breathed Maxim, looking around with a smile and inclining his head at a few people who were making the most obvious remarks about him. “Do you think we should circulate, and introduce ourselves?”