Page 201 of Snowbound Surrender

It was impossible to prevent the shock he felt from appearing on his face. “You cannot be serious. The Prince must not know – how else could he let such a woman here at Court?”

She laughed and tightened her grip on his arm. “Oh, Maxim, you do not know England as well as you thought. The Regent’s entire world is about pleasure, and taking it where you can. Were there not mistresses in the Czar’s court? Did your father not have two wives?”

The way she spoke, so relaxed, so casual, made Maxim hesitate. It was true, his own father had taken a second wife; but she had been a wife nonetheless, not a mistress. He knew it happened, even in the most regal of settings – but to have it so obviously flaunted…

“Well, I am glad at least that you kept your distance,” he said faintly, his mind starting to move to other things. “A woman such as that here! We shall have to ensure she does not attend the wedding, Annika.”

But she had removed her arm. “Why?”

“Why?” Maxim stared, and so only mild defiance in her face. “Annika, you cannot be serious?”

“No one can judge another for their decisions in life,” she said simply. “You do not know her situation, what brought her to that arrangement with the Earl. It could have been the making of her – she could have started from somewhere much worse.”

Maxim did not speak. No matter what she said, Annika seemed to know a little too much of this Miss Emma Tilbury, and he did not like the idea of his future wife consorting with a woman who evidently had no concerns of gossip, or morals, or….or decency!

“Do you know her?”

Annika blushed darkly, her cheeks flushed. “No, of course not! But any woman who does not abide by society is not necessarily wrong. Is it not possible that she is just different?”

Maxim took a deep breath. “You are a far gentler creature than I am, I will admit. Just remember, one day you will be a Czarina, and you will not be permitted to socialise with women like that!”

She laughed and cried, “A Czarina? Goodness, will that be my title?”

But he could hear the pain underneath the laughter. There was an untold story there, one that Annika clearly did not trust him enough to tell. But she would, in time.

After all, what kind of secret could she be hiding?

CHAPTER 9

“Do not go too far, Meredith!”

Anne’s words were caught in the wind, not reaching the young girl who was giggling wildly and skipping away, making deep tracks in the snow. The St. James’ Court servants had decorated outside here, too. Garlands of winter roses adorned every door they passed.

Shaking her head with a smile, Anne followed her from a slight distance. She should have known – knew better than anyone, in fact, that you simply could not tell a girl what to do and expect to be obeyed. Not when the child was so like her mother.

Meredith was twelve, almost thirteen. It would not be long, a few years perhaps, and she would be tugging at the bit, desperate to be out there at card parties, balls, catching the eye of a gentleman or two.

Anne’s jaw clenched for a moment at the very thought. Meredith, fifteen or sixteen years of age, smiling coquettishly at a soldier. If only she could prevent her from making the same mistakes as her mother…

“Whoops!”

“Be careful, Meredith!” Anne frowned slightly as she watched Meredith pick herself up from the snow and brush down her gown. “If it is too icy out here, we should go inside!”

Meredith completely ignored her, running with her skirts flying as the sight of her kitchen maid friend appeared around a corner, giggling in turn.

“Wait for me!”

Anne’s face softened. It was rare for Meredith to find a playmate she could lose herself with, and they would be gone in less than a week. Best to let her play, and get all that energy out of her system. She could not come to real harm, hopefully.

“Just do not go too far, Meredith.”

Meredith ignored her. Same old, same old, Anne thought with a wry smile. She should have known.

“That child is almost like a wolf, running wild,” said a voice behind her. “What a wonderful sight!”

Anne’s wry smile grew into a broad one. She knew that voice. It was Maxim, surely – and when she turned around, she was not only correct, but saw him in a thick woollen coat holding a gift.

“It is Christmas Day tomorrow,” she said lightly. “Do you not think that any more presents should wait until then?”