To Charm a Prince (30 page)

“Are you all right?” Victoria asked.

Samantha nodded.

“Wait for us,” Victoria instructed the driver. “We’ll be returning to Park Lane shortly.”

Victoria opened the door and climbed down. Then she turned to assist her sister.

Trembling, Samantha walked up the stairs beside Victoria. If her sister hadn’t been with her, she never would have had the courage to do this.

“Let me handle this,” Victoria said.

Samantha shook her head. “This is my problem.” She hesitated and then asked, “Did you bring your dagger?”

“It’s strapped to my leg.”

Samantha lifted the knocker and banged it. A moment later, a familiar figure opened the door. “Igor.”

“Prince Rudolf’s lady,” Igor said. “What do you want?”

Samantha squared her shoulders. “I want to see Prince Vladimir.”

“I cannot guarantee your safety.”

“As I recall,
you
threatened my safety the last time I saw you,” Samantha said. “I am ready for the unexpected this time. I’ve brought my sister with me.”

The Russian giant shifted his gaze to the petite redhead who stood beside her. His lips quirked with amusement.

“Victoria is tougher than she appears,” Samantha said. “Open the door and let us pass.”

Igor stepped back and allowed them entrance to the foyer. “Follow me.”

The Russian led them down the corridor to the dining room where she had sat with Rudolf on New Year’s Eve. When they walked into the room, Prince Vladimir and Princess Olga looked up in surprise.

In that moment, Samantha compared herself to the prince’s former wife and came out lacking. Olga was everything that Samantha could never be—strikingly beautiful, gracefully poised, blonde.

“If it isn’t the pathetic little cripple,” Olga said.

In a flash of movement, Victoria bent and lifted the bottom edge of her skirt to draw the dagger. “Kindly refrain from insulting my sister, or I shall be forced to cut your tongue out.”

Victoria turned to the right suddenly and pointed the dagger in the general vicinity of Igor’s groin. “You stay where you are, or you’ll be a candidate for the opera’s soprano.”

“I carry my pistol in my reticule,” Samantha lied in a quavering voice.

Prince Vladimir inspected Samantha from head to toe and waved the giant out of the room. “How can I be of service?”

Before Samantha could reply, Princess Olga spoke up, “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“What do you mean?”

“In a few months, we will have something in common—bearing the bastard’s child.”

Samantha flinched at the word
bastard
and wondered how she knew about the pregnancy. Nobody with an ounce of kindness who had seen the prince’s anguish could ever use that horrible word. The beautiful, graceful blonde had no heart.

“Sister, if this witch uses the word
bastard
again,” Samantha said, “cut her tongue out.”

“With pleasure, sister.”

Prince Vladimir chuckled, earning himself a glare from the blonde. “Does my brother know you are here?” he asked. “Ah, I see from your expression that he does not.”

“Will you leave England and Rudolf in peace if I give you the Kazanov Venus?” Samantha asked.

The princess spoke instead of the prince. “You don’t want to bear him a—” With dagger in hand, Victoria took a step toward the blonde. “You don’t want to bear a child without benefit of marriage?”

“Olga, be quiet.” Prince Vladimir looked at Samantha. “I told you I would leave my brother in peace if I get the Venus. I wish Rudolf no harm. We share a mother, after all.”

Samantha opened her reticule and withdrew the white velvet pouch. She placed it on the end of the table. “There is your Venus. Now kindly remove yourself from England. Let’s go, sister.”

With their heads held high, Samantha and Victoria left the dining room. Once out of the prince’s sight, they raced down the corridor and into the bright sunlight outside. Neither sister stopped moving until they’d closed the coach’s door.

“Park Lane,” Victoria called to the driver.

*    *    *

While Samantha was sneaking into the prince’s chamber to return the Kazanov Venus, Rudolf and Robert were on their way to Montague House. With his half-brother’s support, Rudolf intended to persuade Vladimir and Olga to admit to the divorce and return to Russia.

He would let them name their price but would not relinquish the Venus to them. That was reparation for his mother because Rudolf knew the missing piece was important to Fedor Kazanov.

“This seems a day for visits,” Igor said, opening the front door.

“I want to speak to Vladimir,” Rudolf said.

Igor stepped aside to allow them entrance. The hint of a smile touched his lips when he asked, “Your Highness, I am curious about how—”

“Lady Samantha lifted the key out of your pocket,” Rudolf interrupted. “She is an expert pickpocket.”

Igor’s chest rumbled with thunderous laughter. “Your lady seemed so meek.”

Rudolf smiled. “My offer of a job is still open.”

“I will consider it,” Igor said, leading them upstairs to the drawing room. “Follow me.”

“I hope you are enjoying my hospitality,” Rudolf said, walking into the drawing room.

“You are looking well, brother.”

“I have never felt better.”

“A bastard for a bastard,” Olga spoke up. “How quaint.”

Surprised by her knowledge, Rudolf looked at his former wife for the first time. His gaze on her was pure hatred. How he wished he had never been fooled by her beautiful face. She was more ruthless than any ten men he had ever known. There was no softness, no heart in her. The bitch had never even taken an interest in her own daughter. Samantha was a queen compared to this monster posing as a woman.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Olga told him. “Servants talk to other servants who, in turn, talk to other servants. You should know that.”

“You just missed your lovely betrothed,” Vladimir said, smiling. “Lady Samantha and her sister stopped by for a visit.”

Rudolf stiffened at the mention of Samantha, every muscle in his body tightening, ready to leap at his brother. He felt Robert touch his arm, warning him to remain calm.

“I do not believe you,” Rudolf said, his jaw clenched.

Olga drew his attention. “Lady Samantha wants to be certain she doesn’t whelp a bastard. She brought her sister along for protection. Her
red-haired
sister.”

“Darling, what color gown was she wearing?” Vladimir asked, touching the princess’s hand. Blue, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, the gown was definitely blue.”

Though he kept his face expressionless, Rudolf felt the surge of anger coursing through his body. Samantha had been wearing a blue gown, and he had forbidden her to leave the house without his permission and escort. What, in the name of God, had incited her to disobey him and come here? He was going to give her a stinging lecture when he returned home. Solitary confinement in her chamber for a few days seemed appropriate.

“I will not surrender Venus to you,” Rudolf told them.

“Actually, we have begun packing and will leave England in a few days,” Vladimir told him. “Lady Samantha was kind enough to bring us the Venus.”

Rudolf struggled for control. “You lie,” he said, his hands in fists at his sides. “Samantha would never—”

Vladimir produced a pouch. Opening it, he removed the gold Venus medallion and held it in the palm of his hand for his brother’s inspection.

Rudolf couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Samantha had betrayed him. Her kind and nurturing acceptance had hid an unscrupulous heart. He had trusted her, and she had betrayed him. The proof lay in the palm of his brother’s hand.

That was her folly. She would live to regret her betrayal. He would marry her because of the baby and then lock her away at his estate on Sark Island. She would never get another chance to betray him.

“Since you have the Venus,” Robert spoke up, “you won’t mind signing a document stating that Rudolf and Olga are divorced. My sister-in-law has nothing to do with your quarrel and should not be punished by bearing a child out of wedlock.”

Vladimir inclined his head. He rose from his chair and crossed the drawing room to a table, returning with parchment, ink, and quill.

“You are actually going to sign that?” Olga asked. “Let the bastard sire a bastard.”

“Lady Samantha seems to be a sweet child with her heart in the right place,” Vladimir said. “You, my dear, have no heart.”‘

“I will not sign it,” Olga insisted.

“You will sign it,” Vladimir said, “or you will regret it.”

“I want to visit Zara before I leave England,” Olga said, turning to Rudolf.

“You may see her in my presence only,” Rudolf told her. “Come to Campbell Mansion tomorrow.”

Vladimir passed the parchment and quill to Olga. “Sign it.” Then he handed it to Rudolf. “This is for Lady Samantha, not you.”

“I would not have expected otherwise.”

“Do not be too hard on her,” Vladimir told him. “She had good reasons for giving me the Venus.”

Rudolf turned away and left the drawing room. Climbing into the coach, Rudolf stared straight ahead. He was furious and humiliated. He needed to think of a suitable way to punish Samantha. God, how he despised her. He’d been fooled by her simperingly sweet, accepting manner. Why, she had even had him loving her, and all the while she’d plotted to betray him.

“I would say that Samantha is in trouble,” Robert said. “I urge you to remember that she is carrying your child.”

“Tell your man to take us to the bishop,” Rudolf said. “Samantha and I will marry at Campbell Mansion this afternoon. Will you be my best man?”

“I would be honored.”

*    *    *

Samantha sat in the small drawing room and knitted a blanket for her baby. The prince could afford to purchase a thousand such blankets if she asked, but this one was made with love.

With her in the drawing room were Mrs. Sweeting, the children, and Giles. Victoria entertained them with a concert on her flute.

“Sweeting, take the children upstairs,” Aunt Roxie ordered, hurrying into the drawing room. “Samantha and Victoria, your presence is required in His Grace’s study.”

Samantha felt an inkling of fear, especially when she noted the worry in her aunt’s eyes. She glanced at her sister, who shrugged and shook her head.

Walking into the study, Samantha stopped short. Not only were Duke Magnus, Robert, and Rudolf there but also the Bishop of London.

One look at the prince’s face told Samantha something was terribly wrong. His facial muscles were tensed, his expression forbidding, and his right cheek muscles began twitching when he looked at her.

“Stand here,” Rudolf ordered, his voice mirroring his anger. “The bishop is going to marry us.”

“Marry now?” Samantha said. “I don’t understand.”

“There is nothing to understand,” Rudolf snapped. “The bishop has come to marry us.”

Samantha shook her head. “I want to wait.”

“Until you whelp the brat?” Rudolf asked

Samantha stared in surprise at him. Why was the prince behaving like this? He was frightening her. She could see him struggling against a rage but didn’t know how to pacify him.

“We are waiting.” Shaking her head, Samantha backed away. Rudolf grabbed her upper arm in a tight grip and yanked her beside him.

“You will marry me now, or you will be sorry,” Rudolf told her. “No one in this room will intercede for you.”

Samantha looked to her aunt for help, but she looked away. Silently, she appealed to the duke, but he also looked away. Knowing the marquess would refuse her, she said to the prince, “You can release my arm. I am willing to marry you.”

Rudolf glanced at her but refused to release her arm.

“You are hurting me,” she said.

Rudolf loosened his grip but held on. He nodded at the bishop.

Within surprisingly few minutes, the Bishop of London pronounced them man and wife. Duke Magnus grabbed the bishop’s arm to escort him from the study, saying, “Let’s all go to the drawing room and toast the happy couple.”

The happy couple?
Samantha thought, her panic rising, a horrified giggle threatening to bubble up in her throat. The prince appeared ready to murder her.

Everyone was behaving so strangely. She saw her aunt grab her sister’s wrist and force her from the study. Robert followed them out, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with her husband.

Since fleeing seemed wiser than fighting, Samantha turned to leave. Her husband’s voice stopped her.

“Do not even consider leaving,” Rudolf ordered. “We have an important matter to discuss.”

Samantha looked him straight in the eye and then wished she hadn’t. The prince was furious with her. She wanted—
no, needed—
to get away from him.

“I’m not feeling well,” she said. “Could we postpone this discussion until later?”

“No.” The word fell between them like an axe.

Samantha forced herself to incline her head. “What did you wish to discuss?”

“You disobeyed me,” Rudolf said, staring into her eyes. “Do not bother to lie. I know you left the house without permission or escort.”

“I had an escort,” Samantha defended herself.

“I do not consider your sister a proper escort.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disobey—”

“Where did you go?”

Samantha felt confused. What was he accusing her of? “Do you think I was meeting a lover or—”

“Do not be ridiculous,” Rudolf snapped. “I am the only fool in London to be gulled by a pa—” He broke off, unwilling to say the two words that would wound her.

Knowing what he’d almost said, Samantha felt as though he’d kicked her in the stomach. She flinched and began to tremble, and her bottom lip quivered in her struggle to fight back tears.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I know you stole the Venus and delivered it into my brother’s hands.”

“You don’t understand,” Samantha said, her expression clearing. “I can explain—”

“Go to your chamber while I join the others to toast the happy couple,” Rudolf interrupted. “I will deal with you later.”