|
Chapter 1
London, 1821
Anticipation strummed through her, sharpening her senses. She could almost hear the rhythmic pulsing of her surging blood.
Tonight the prince and she would rendezvous. She had waited five years for this moment and intended to savor every scintillating second of her evening. Scandal would explode like Vesuvius erupting, scorching society.
Katerina Garibaldi, the Contessa de Salerno, studied her image in the cheval mirror. A feline smile of satisfaction touched her lips, lifting the corners of her mouth. Excitement enhanced her beauty, her dark eyes gleaming like the priceless jewels she created.
Two delicate diamond buckle pendants---her own creation---clipped the gauzy straps of her violet gown. Diamond pins glittered in her black, upswept hairdo like stars sprinkled across the midnight sky. She wore a diamond cuff-bracelet on her right arm, and diamond fan earrings dangled from her earlobes, precluding the need for a necklace.
She wanted to dazzle the prince, not blind him.
From somewhere behind her, Katerina heard the humming of Nonna Strega, the widow she'd brought from Naples. The only other sound was the cicidas singing in the darkness of the garden below her window.
Katerina placed a dot of perfume above her upper lip. Inhaling her own jasmine scent heightened her awareness of herself when she stepped into society, a reminder to guard her expression and behavior and words.
The kohl lining her eyelids lent her a dramatic aura. Her gaze beckoned but never promised.
A lady should look her best when consorting with a prince. Lord, she felt like a princess in those fairy tales she told her daughter each evening.
Long, white gloves appeared in front of her. Katerina looked from the gloves to Nonna Strega. "No gloves tonight."
The older woman beamed with approval at Katerina. "Bella, la Contessa."
"Thank you, Nonna." Katerina smiled at her. "We speak English in England. Remember?"
"Si."
Once the woman had gone, Katerina crossed the chamber and opened the armoire's doors. She reached for the black, diamond-encrusted reticule. After slipping its gold links handle onto her left arm, Katerina walked down the corridor. Her pace slowed as she neared her daughter's chamber. Should she enter or not? Seeing her daughter's sweet expression could change her plans for the evening, and she would never forgive herself if she missed this opportunity.
Katerina lifted her head high and rehearsed her grand entrance by floating with practiced poise down the stairs to the foyer. Her brother awaited her there, his dark gaze fixed on her graceful descent, but her sisters were nowhere in sight.
Her brother shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. "You are going through with this?"
"Hektor, do not attempt to dissuade me."
He shrugged. "Do what you must, Sister."
Katerina narrowed her dark, kohl-lined eyes on him. Something was definitely amiss. She had expected an argument but received indifference.
The majordomo opened the door. "Enjoy your evening, my lady."
"Thank you, Dudley."
Outside, Katerina paused before climbing into her coach. The sultry July evening reminded her of Naples. Returning to Italy would become impossible after tonight, regret at that tingeing her excitement.
Inverary House on Park Lane was a scant few blocks from her home in Trevor Square. Twenty minutes later, Katerina entered the duke's residence and climbed the stairs to the ballroom.
She had arrived purposely late. Her tardiness would whet the prince's desire.
A wave of uncertainty washed over her. There would be no returning to her old life once she went to the prince.
Katerina had never felt so desperately alone, not even on that long ago night that had brought her to this moment. Her steps slowed. The nearer the ballroom, the more her confidence waned.
"Good evening, my lady," the duke's majordomo greeted her.
"Good evening, Tinker."
The man announced her arrival. "The Contessa de Salerno."
Katerina scanned the ballroom before joining the elite throng. She spotted her handsome quarry at the far end of the enormous chamber.
Summoning her courage, Katerina walked into the crush of guests and wended her way slowly around the room. She ignored the greetings from friends and acquaintances, her intense focus fixed on her man. She did, however, spare a nod for her host and hostess like a young queen acknowledging her courtiers.
"Your Highness?"
The prince whirled around, the warmth of his relieved expression diminished by irritation. "Good evening, my lady." He bowed over her hand. "I despaired of seeing you this evening."
"Tonight is ours." Her voice was a throaty purr "I brought you a gift."
His irritation vanished. "One of your priceless gems, my lady?"
Katerina opened her reticule and reached inside. In a flash of movement, she drew a pistol and pointed it at his head.
Several women screamed, drawing the crowd's attention. Guests began backing away out of the line of fire.
"What are you doing?" The prince appeared confused and shocked and frightened.
"Pulling this trigger will separate your royal head from your royal body," Katerina answered. Her smile was serene, but the hand holding the pistol shook like the palsey.
"You cannot be serious." His complexion had paled to a ghostly white. "What have I ever done---?"
"My name is Katerina Pavlova Garibaldi," she interrupted, noting his stunned recognition. "Justice has been delayed too long. Regrettably, I cannot execute you three times for the three lives you stole."
"You do not understand," the prince whined.
"Silence," Katerina snapped. "Die like a man instead of a weasel."
Without warning, a masculine hand materialized from behind her, covering her hand on the pistol, but did not snatch it away. A husky voice spoke, a voice she'd grown to love. "Well-mannered ladies do not point pistols, darling."
Katerina kept her gaze on the prince and her hand on the pistol. "The coward deserves to die for his crimes against my family."
"His Highness does deserve punishment," the voice agreed, "but death by pistol is too quick and so messy."
"Do not deter me." Katerina steeled herelf against her lover. "My fingers itch to finish what he started five years ago."
"Do you love me enough to listen before executing the prince?" His question was a husky whisper against her ear.
"Speak."
"Do you trust me enough to lower the pistol while I speak?"
Katerina tightened her grip on the pistol, her finger on the trigger. "No..."
***
Two Months Earlier
The duchess's incessant matchmaking was pushing her perilously close to the edge of insanity. On the other hand, Roxanne Campbell's love of expensive jewels and her deep, deep pockets did encourage patience with the woman's meddling.
Katerina sat in her workshop overlooking the inner courtyard and put the finishing touches on the Duchess of Inverary's ring. She reached for another felt polishing stick and looked through the magnifier at the enormous emerald surrounded by baguette diamonds.
Hearing a blue jay's shriek, Katerina lifted her gaze to the blooming courtyard below the window. The first of May in London was so much warmer than Moscow but positively frigid in comparison to Naples.
Oh, how she wished to return to Naples. Too bad, civil strife should vex that land of sunshine. The last she'd heard the Austrians had agreed to send soldiers to quell the rebellious rabble. Perhaps she could return to her beloved Naples once peace had been restored.
Katerina inhaled deeply, savoring spring's fresh scent. Lilacs and roses perfumed the air, mingling with her own jasmine fragrance. A gentle breeze teased the trees, their swishing leaves a comforting sound.
Her daughter's giggles from below brought a smile to Katerina's lips. Working as a team, Assunta and Concetta were wonderful nannies for Viveka. How fortunate that Nonna Strega had two able daughters.
"Her Grace has arrived."
Katerina looked over her shoulder at her brother. "You left her sitting alone?"
"Roksana and Ludmilla are entertaining her," Hektor said, referring to their sixteen-year-old twin sisters. "Do not keep our best client waiting."
"The last person to use the burnisher failed to clean and polish it." Katerina arched a dark brow at him. "I wonder who that was."
Hektor grinned, unrepentant. "I accept responsibility for my shortcomings." And then he disappeared out the door.
Katerina returned to her task, shining the emerald's facets. Perfection took time. The duchess could wait a moment or two.
Finally satisfied, Katerina placed the ring in one of two black boxes, the second containing a surprise for the duchess. Gifting one's wealthiest client with an occasional treat constituted good business. Her own father had given the czar many such treasures, and the czar had shown his appreciation by giving her father many commissions.
Brushing a stray wisp of ebony hair off her forehead, Katerina decided against freshening herself before meeting with the duchess. Betrothal and wedding rings for the duchess's stepdaughters awaited their finishing touches.
Imagine two of the duke's by-blows catching princes in marriage. That delicious thought heartened Katerina, even though the princes were Kazanovs.
Katerina left her workshop on Merlin's Way and strolled down the annex corridor connecting her workshop to her main residence on Lancelot Place. Pausing a moment, she watched her daughter singing to the nannies.
"Bravo." Katerina clapped for her daughter's performance.
Viveka looked up. "Mummy Zia, play with me."
"I will join you in a few minutes," Katerina called. "Can you wait?"
"I wait here." Viveka pointed at the ground.
Katerina continued on her way to the main house. Her daughter always made her smile. One day her daughter's father would pay for his crimes. She intended to honor the vow she had made five years earlier. Somehow.
Pausing outside the formal drawing room, Katerina smoothed her skirt and pasted a warm smile onto her face. Then she breezed into the room.
"Welcome to my humble home," Katerina greeted the duchess. "Your presence honors me."
"Good morning, Kat darling." The Duchess of Inverary gave her a dimpled smile and flicked a glance at her surroundings.
Decorated in shades of red and gilded mahogany, the drawing room screamed opulence. Red silk papered the walls, a crystal and gold chandelier hung overhead, thick carpets in jewel-colored designs hugged the polished wood floor. A gold clock, encrusted with diamonds, sat on the table.
"Hardly humble, darling."
Katerina sat on an upholstered chair near the duchess. "Roksana, please ask Nonna Strega to serve refreshments."
"Nonna is already on her way," her sister said.
"Your Grace." Ludmilla drew the woman's attention. "Did you know that strega means witch?"
"Thank you for that unsolicited information," Katerina said.
"Nonna is a witch?" the duchess asked.
"My daughter considers the woman a grandmother," Katerina explained. "Viveka's nannies are Nonna's daughters who refer to their mother as strega. When my daughter repeated their words, the pet name stuck."
"I see you consider your staff as family," the duchess said in obvious approval. "We Campbells feel the same about our dearest Tinker."
"I regret my inability to deliver your ring to Inverary House," Katerina said. "My irresponsible brother delayed its completion."
"Irresponsibility is a masculine trait," the duchess remarked.
The twins giggled at that.
"Go to the courtyard," Katerina dismissed her sisters, "and play with Viveka."
Still giggling, Roksana and Ludmilla left the drawing room. Nonna Strega arrived with a tray of refreshments.
"Grazie, Nonna. I will serve Her Grace."
Katerina lifted the teapot to pour the steaming brew. She passed the duchess the porcelain teacup and saucer before pouring her own.
"Nonna brews the tea with mint," Katerina said. "Please, help yourself to the anise cookies."
After sipping her tea, Katerina set the teacup and saucer down near the diamond-encrusted table cloak. The piece reminded her of her late father who had designed it as a gift for the czar but died before presenting it.
Katerina reached for the small box and opened its lid. Baguette diamonds surrounded an octagonal, step-cut emerald set in platinum.
"Exquisite, la contessa." Pleasure gleamed in the duchess's eyes.
"The platinum strengthens the emerald's power to bring its owner love and money. The emerald, of course, comes from Cleopatra's mines."
The duchess gave her a dimpled smile. "I anticipate wearing the ring this evening."
Here it comes.
Katerina had known Roxanne Campbell would somehow turn their conversation to her Beltane Ball that evening. The duchess was trying to find her a husband. Again.
Ignoring the reference to the ball, Katerina offered the duchess a second box. "A gift to show my appreciation for welcoming me into Society."
"Darling, you did not need to reward me," the duchess said, reaching for the box.
Katerina smiled. "I wanted to create a special surprise for you."
"I adore special surprises," the duchess exclaimed, and lifted the lid.
Startling the eye, the brooch was a flower bouquet. White and colored diamonds, accompanied by emeralds, had been mounted in gold and platinum.
"I set the brooch en tremblant," Katerina told her. "The flowers will move when worn."
"How original, but I cannot accept---"
"If you do not accept my gift," Katerina interrupted, "you will hurt my feelings."
"Very well, I accept your gift." Another dimpled smile. "How will I ever repay your generosity?"
Forget about finding me a husband, Katerina thought. "Your friendship is my reward."
"I will wear the brooch tonight," the duchess announced. "The other ladies will expire from envy."
The Beltane Ball again.
"Did I mention the brooch is a replica from the Russian crown jewels?" Katerina nodded at the other woman's surprised expression. "My father created the original piece for Czar Alexander."
"I can hardly wait to tell Lady Althorpe," the duchess said. "You must promise to attend my ball tonight."
"I should work on those betrothal and wedding rings," Katerina hedged. "I promised Princes Stepan and Mikhail their rings would be finished no later than tomorrow."
"Finish Stepan's this afternoon and work on Mikhail's in the morning, " the duchess said. "The other ladies will swarm you once they see this brooch."
The duchess was correct. Social gatherings provided business opportunities.
"Once you finish my stepdaughters' rings, I want you to make me a diamond ensemble," the duchess continued. "Magnus and I have made a bet. My wonderful husband believes his daughters have engaged in no sexual intimacies, but I know better."
Embarrassment stained Katerina's cheeks. Even worse, Hektor lounged in the doorway and smiled at the duchess's words.
"Kat darling, you blush like a virgin."
"If His Grace wins," Katerina changed the subject, "what does he get?"
"There is no chance of that happening," the duchess said, "but he requests a day of silence from me. Which is quite absurd since he only needs to await our next argument."
Katerina smiled at that.
"Let me tell you about Beltane," the duchess said. "The holiday celebrates lovers and fertility. We'll have a maypole queen, candied violets, and passion flower wine. All are special to this day. We will also be welcoming three of my nephew-in-law's cousins from Moscow---Princes Drako, Lykos, and Gunter Kazanov. Do you know them?"
Katerina lost her smile at the name Drako but managed to keep her expression blank. "I have never had the pleasure."
The Duchess of Inverary patted her hand. "I do believe Drako and you would suit."
Drako Kazanov. The one man she despised most in this world. The one man she had vowed revenge upon.
The duchess's voice intruded on her thoughts. "You must meet him before any ladies stake a claim. So very virile, you know, and wealthy beyond avarice. Money and virility is a powerful aphrodisiac."
Katerina glanced at her brother. Hektor was frowning at her, but she ignored him.
"Your Grace, I cannot refuse the opportunity to welcome a countryman to London."
"I excel at relationship strategies." The duchess gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Promise me you will dance with Drako."
"His Highness has not requested a dance, Your Grace."
The duchess's dimpled smile appeared. "Men want what eludes them. Adopt a cool but beckoning attitude."
Katerina stood to escort the duchess to the foyer. "Drako means dragon," she remarked.
"The dragon prince," the duchess echoed. "How deliciously dangerous."
Once the duchess had gone, Katerina faced her brother. "Tonight begins our revenge."
"You cannot know if Alina was fingering the prince or asking for his help," Hektor argued.
"Do not be ridiculous," Katerina said. "That man destroyed our family. Alina, Ilya, and Papa... All dead within twenty-four hours."
"Dragons breath fire," Hektor warned her, "and you may burn for your trouble."
Katerina gave her brother an ambiguous smile. "Even dragons die."
*******************************************
"Welcome to England, Your Highness."
"Thank you, Your Grace." Prince Drako Kazanov shook the older man's hand and sat in one of the upholstered chairs in front of the ducal desk. Stretching his long legs out, the prince appeared the perfect image of sleek sophistication, a man at ease with his richly-appointed surroundings.
Magnus Campbell sat on a black leather chair behind an enormous oak desk. Mahogany bookcases had been built into the walls, and two black marble hearths supplied heat on chilly days. Indeed, the only touches of femininity were the duchess's portrait and a vase of fragrant lilacs.
Beyond the closed door sounded the muted voices of passing servants. The faint strains of music wafted through the air as the orchestra in the ballroom began playing.
Prince Rudolf Kazanov passed Drako a crystal glass of whisky and then raised his own in salute. "Welcome to London, Cousin."
"And to you, Cousin." Drako lifted his glass, returning the salute, and sipped the dark amber liquid, savoring its sharp taste. A bit too mild for him, though. He would have preferred vodka, a real man's drink.
"I'd give the Campbell fortune to live like my ancestors in the Highlands," the duke muttered, tugging at his cravat. "Bare-chested and wrapped in a plaid."
The older man's discomfort made Drako's own cravat feel snug. "What is a plaid?"
"A skirt," Rudolf answered.
The Duke of Inverary snapped his gaze to Prince Rudolf. "A plaid is not a skirt."
"I stand corrected, Your Grace." Rudolf sent Drako a sidelong smile. "A plaid resembles a skirt."
Drako grinned at their byplay. He could see that his cousin and the duke had formed a close friendship. And, if the rumors proved true, the Duke of Inverary was his cousin's natural father. Certainly, Fydor Kazanov had never behaved as a father should, not even to his undisputed sons---Cousins Viktor, Mikhail, and Stepan. Only Vladimir, the old man's heir, had received any loving attention.
Drako knew that he and his siblings had been lucky. Their own father had escaped the worst of the Kazanov traits. The turth was growing up Kazanov meant his father stood barely inside the normalcy line. If it hadn't been for marrying his mother, his father might have become another Fydor Kazanov.
"Where are your brothers?" the Duke of Inverary asked, changing the subject.
"Lykos and Gunter will arrive with Viktor and his wife," Drako answered. His piercing blue eyes, inherited from his mother, shone with easy humor. "Rudolf knew I would require a separation after traveling across Europe with my younger brothers and arranged for them to stay with Viktor. At least, until I find us a suitable residence."
"Could this be a permanent move?"
"Few things in life are permanent, Your Grace."
"Our vodka imports are doing well," Prince Rudolf said, changing the topic to business. "Unfortunately, the English commoners prefer gin because of the price."
"Perhaps we could export whisky to Russia," the duke suggested.
"Why would a man buy whisky when he can drink vodka?" Drako asked in genuine confusion.
Prince Rudolf chuckled. "I told you, Your Grace, my countrymen will never buy your whisky."
"Even Russian women prefer vodka," Drako added.
"Whisky is as fine a drink as vodka," Inverary said.
"Only if the man is a Scots," Rudolf replied.
"Did I mention the Kazanovs' newest venture?" Drako asked. Without waiting for the negative reply, he told them, "We made a fortune on our gold mines and precious gems investments. Baltic amber, Ukranian opals, Yakutian diamonds, Afghani emeralds and rubies."
"You should speak with the Contessa de Salerno," the duke said. "The countess will be interested in doing buiness with you. Roxie insists the woman is not only a master jeweler but a design genius."
A businesswoman? Drako had never heard anything so ridiculous. "A countess who owns her own business?"
"Not only is the Contessa de Salerno a master jeweler and design genius," Rudolf informed him, "but she is also your future bride. A match made in heaven, would you not say, Your Grace?"
"More likely, a match made in Inverary House," the duke grumbled.
"I beg your pardon?" Drako could not credit what he'd heard.
Feigned sympathy appeared on his cousin's face. "The Duchess of Inverary has found you a bride."
Drako flicked a glance at the duke. "I do not require a bride at this time."
"Your time is up, Cousin." Rudolf grinned, obviously enjoying himself. "Once the duchess decides, your bachelor days are done."
"Roxie wants everyone happily married," the duke added.
"Happily married is an oxymoron," Drako drawled.
"You may like the contessa," the duke said. "Tell him about her."
"Katerina Garibaldi is Italian by marriage but Russian by birth," Rudolf said.
"I may know her. What is her maiden name?"
"I asked her that question more than once," Rudolf answered. "Like an elusive butterfly, the countess evaded my query."
"The Queen of Naples gave her a letter of introduction," Inverary reminded him.
"The letter could have been forged," Rudolf said. "I suspect la contessa is not precisely what she appears, and, several weeks ago, I sent the Queen of Naplea a letter of inquiry. An answer should soon be forthcoming, and then we will know for certain."
Drako smiled at the two men. A beautiful imposter, a master jeweler, a design genius. He loved a mystery almost as much as a challenge.
"The contessa supports a brother, two sisters, and a small daughter," the duke said. "Roxie noted the woman's home is filled with priceless objects."
"Beauty and wealth and talent?" Drako could not believe any woman could be so blessed. "The contessa must be much in demand."
Rudolf gave him a sidelong smile. "Yuri seems smitten."
"Yuri?" Drako sat up straight, the ashes of anger fanning into a tiny flame. "Yuri is in London?"
"Prince Yuri and Princess Anya are visiting their aunt and uncle," the duke told him. "You dislike the prince?"
"Yuri is a sniveling swine who creates irreparable damage wherever he goes," Drako answered.
Raisa, his slightly shallow and exceedingly naive fiance, would still be living if she had never met Yuri. He had considered issuing a challenge at the time, but his brothers convinced him that Yuri was not worth a trip to the gallows. Vengeance did not bring the dead back to life.
"I would give you a word of caution," the duke said, drawing him from his thoughts. "You and your brothers should not find yourselves alone with any unmarried female, especially the Blonde Brigade."
"A brigade?" Drako looked at his cousin.
"So dubbed by Mikhail," Rudolf explained, "the Blonde Brigade are three she-wolves who will do anything to entice a prince into marriage."
"I will warn Lykos and Gunter," Drako said. "We will beware."
"Are there only the three of you?" the duke asked. "Or do you have other siblings?"
"We are nine brothers and three sisters."
The Duke of Inverary nodded with approval. "That is a healthy family."
Rudolf laughed. "If you knew his mother, you would say that is a miraculous family."
When the duke looked at him, Drako explained, "Father says Mother thinks fucking is an Asian city."
The three men laughed in easy camaraderie. The door opened, drawing their attention. They shot to their feet as the Duchess of Inverary crossed the room.
"Magnus darling, see the contessa's gift," the duchess said, pointing to the brooch.
"The contessa gave you that?" Inverary shook his head. "Why would she give you an expensive gift when you are willing to pay?"
"Katerina appreciates my friendship." The duchess gave Drako a dimpled smile. "Not only does tonight's ball welcome you to London but honors Beltane, a pagan holiday for lovers and fertility."
"Your Grace, if I could find a woman as beautiful as you," Drako said, bowing over her hand, "I would steal her in an instant and make her my bride."
"What a romantic idea," the duchess said, and then looked at her husband. "Our guests are arriving."
The Duke of Inverary offered his wife his arm and escorted her from the study. The two princes followed them out.
Drako gave his cousin a sidelong glance. "So, this contessa is beautiful?"
"Quite lovely."
"You sound like an Englishman." Drako lowered his voice so only his cousin heard his next words. "Would you care to place a small wager concerning the contessa?"
Prince Rudolf grinned. "I would never refuse the opportunity to take your money."
"Not only will I learn the contessa's maiden name," Drako said, "but I will win a place in her bed."
"No man in London has gone there yet."
Drako arched a dark brow at his cousin. "A thousand pounds?"
"You must be feeling insecure," Rudolf mocked him.
"Two thousand pounds?"
Rudolf shook his head. "Five thousand pounds?"
Drako offered his hand. "Five thousand pounds, it is."
"Remember, Cousin, pride goes before a fall." Rudolf shook his hand. "Even you cannot perform miracles."
top
Chapter 2
"Do not announce me, Tinker."
The majordomo inclined his head. "As you wish, my lady."
Katerina paused for a long moment, perusing London's elite while she willed her quickening pulse to slow. Formally-attired gentlemen provided a stark background for their ladies, gowned in their finest. Many wore jewels that she had designed.
Where is he? Katerina wondered. Which of those men is the villain who destroyed my family? What will these aristocrats think when I unmask the monster?
With the duchess's less than subtle nudging, Prince Drako Kazanov would seek her out, and Katerina had dressed to entice him. She wore a simple, low-cut emerald silk gown. Her jewels screamed immense wealth. Katerina wore a necklace of sixteen marquise-cut diamonds, square-cut emeralds serving as spacers. Wearing her late-sister's bandeau bracelet had been a stroke of genius. Panels of green enamel clover leaves and diamonds intersected with rectangular-cut emeralds.
The prince had given her sister the bracelet, and she wanted to see his reaction. Or would he even recognize it? Perhaps the monster gave expensive trinkets to many women.
"I do hope you aren't trying to steal my job," Tinker whispered.
Katerina smiled at the majordomo. "You caught me daydreaming, sir."
"There are three unattached princes in attendance tonight," Tinker said. "I daresay, females dreaming of the unattainable fill the ballroom."
"My taste in gentlemen is more discerning than an appetizing title." Katerina lifted her head high and descended the stairs.
Skirting the dance floor, Katerina inhaled the ladies' mingling fragrances. She had touched her own jasmine scent above her upper lip lest others overwhelm her.
The orchestra was playing a waltz, the strains of violins transporting her across time and space to Moscow. Her father had enjoyed the violin, insisting its emotional tones inspired his creativity. Living in Italy had fostered her love of the opera, her designing precious jewels an obsession needing no inspiration.
"Contessa."
Katerina turned toward the voice and recognized the duchess's bosom crony. "Good evening, Lady Althorpe."
"I must tell you how much I admire the brooch you created for Her Grace," Lady Althorpe said. "Roxie told me you were an artistic genius. Lord Althorpe saw the piece and insisted I ask you to create a special trinket for me."
"Thank you for the praise." Attending the ball had brought her a commission, possibly others before the evening ended. That pleased Katerina. "I look forward to assisting you."
"When may we consult?"
"At the moment I am finishing the rings for Her Grace's stepdaughters," Katerina told her. "Shall we say one afternoon next week at your convenience?"
"Roxie has been asking for you." Lady Althorpe gave her a conspiratorial smile. "She wants to introduce you to a particular gentleman of the highest rank."
"If you will excuse me," Katerina said, "I will search for Her Grace. Until next week, my lady."
When Katerina turned to walk away, her gaze collided with an incredibly handsome gentleman standing a short distance from her. Tall and well-built, he wore his formal attire with casual ease.
Having caught her eye, the stranger proceeded to inspect her, slowly and insolently, as if he considered purchasing her. His gaze touched her lips and caressed her cleavage, making her blush.
Katerina felt her cheeks heating. Never one to shrink from a challenge, Katerina returned his rude inspection from his angularly-chiseled features to his torso and down his legs.
When she raised her gaze to his, the gentleman grinned and inclined his head in greeting. Katerina gave him an ambiguous smile and flicked a glance at the female admirers surrounding him, including the notorious Blonde Brigade.
He rolled his eyes in apparent boredom. She arched a dark brow, conveying how little she sympathezied with his plight, and then turned away.
Prince Yuri blocked her path. This prince was a good-looking blond but not to her taste. The narcisstic boor considered himself irresistible. Any woman who loved Prince Yuri would find herself and the prince in love with the same person.
"Good evening, my lady." Yuri bowed over her hand. "I believe this waltz is ours."
Refusing his invitation would be rude. And that could harm her business.
"I believe you are correct, Your Highness."
Stepping onto the dance floor, Katerina and Yuri joined the couples swirling around the ballroom. She glanced at the hand holding hers and decided the prince was too soft and had never done a day's work in his pampered life.
"What an unusual bracelet," Yuri said, drawing her attention. "One of your creations?"
"My late husband purchased it from an estate."
Circling the ballroom in the prince's arms, Katerina let her gaze drift to the handsome stranger. The society maidens were still vying for his attention, but his gaze had fixed on her.
No, not her. He was staring at Yuri, the man's expression bordering on hatred.
Well, she could not fault his opinion of the prince. Yuri would never appear on her own list of favorite people.
"Will you ride with me tomorrow?" Yuri asked.
"Unfortunately, I must decline." Katerina assumed a look of regret. "I have a previous appointment."
Clearly, her refusal annoyed the prince. "I wondered if you would design me a pair of cufflinks?"
"I would be honored, Your Highness," Katerina said, as they left the dance floor. "Shall we say one afternoon next week?"
"Shall we say tomorrow?" Yuri countered.
"This waltz belongs to me," said a voice beside them.
"Good evening, Lord Gordon." Katerina waited until the prince walked out of earshot. "Thank you, Douglas, for rescuing me from that insufferable boor."
"I can recognize a damsel in distress," the Marquis of Huntly said, "but voicin' insults aboot royalty is naughty."
"Call me incorrigible," Katerina said, making him smile.
When they stepped onto the dance floor, Katerina glanced at his hand. Douglas Gordon's hands were not soft like the prince's but still unblemished by manual work. A financial wizard, the Marquis of Huntly was a man with few opportunities for manual pursuits except, perhaps, golfing or gambling at White's Gentleman's Club or hunting in autumn. With his dark brown hair and grey eyes and pleasant expression, the Scottish marquis was handsome in the extreme. Many a society maiden would love to pass her life as his wife and help him spend his vast fortune.
"I wish to purchase my stepmother a special piece to commemorate her birthday next month," the marquis told her. "May I call upon ye to see yer designs?"
"I would love to design a piece for you," Katerina answered, "however, previous commitments have swamped me with work. Next week would be more convenient."
"Let us confer one afternoon next week." The marquis escorted her off the dance floor, steering her toward two older women. "Meeting Stepmama may inspire yer creativity."
The two older women noted their approach. One woman's expression was warm and the other's decidedly cool.
"I present the Contessa de Salerno," he introduced them. "Katerina, my stepmother and my Aunt Cecelia."
"Roxanne Campbell has been trumpeting your genius," Aunt Cecelia said.
"I believe Her Grace exaggerates my talent."
"I do not approve of women working in the trades," Lady Gordon said.
The marquis laughed. "The contessa is an artist, not a tradeswoman."
"One person's art is another's trade," Katerina said. "If you will excuse me, I must greet my hostess."
Douglas walked beside her. When she looked at him, he said, "Prince Yuri will keep his distance if I accompany ye, and I want to aplogize for my stepmother. She's pure English and canna help bein' difficult."
"You do not need to apologize," Katerina assured him. "Though I appreciate your concern, you need not protect me from Yuri. I will see you soon."
Leaving his side, Katerina headed in the duchess's direction. She knew Lady Gordon worried that her stepson would offer for a foreign widow with four dependents.
Katerina planned no romantic entanglements. At least, until she honored her vow of vengeance.
"Darling Kat," the Duchess of Inverary greeted her. "I wondered if you would change your mind about tonight."
"I always keep my promises, Your Grace." Katerina noted the dark-haired stranger dancing with one of the duchess's stepdaughters. "Is he your next victim?"
"In a manner of speaking, but that particular gentleman is much too sophisticated for my dearest Raven." The Duchess of Inverary gave her a dimpled smile. "Listen, darling, Drako is positively panting to meet you. Assume a cool but enticing attitude when you meet him. Ah, here he comes with my wonderful stepdaughter."
The duchess's words surprised Katerina. She snapped her gaze to the duke's youngest stepdaughter and the dark-haired man leaving the dance floor.
The closer the prince stepped, the more handsome he appeared, the faster her pulse beat. She had never considered the monster would appeal to her.
"Drako darling," the duchess introduced them, "I present my dear friend, Katerina Garibaldi, the Contessa de Salerno."
Prince Drako Kazanov gave Katerina his attention, a smile flirting with his chiseled lips. Good humor shone from his eyes.
Black hair. Piercing blue eyes. Magnificent muscles encased in formal attire tailored to his perfect physique.
Katerina knew she was in trouble. How did she dare even consider destroying the Lord's masterpiece of masculinity?
Prince Drako bowed over her hand. "I am pleased to meet the famously talented Contessa de Salerno."
For a moment, Katerina could not find her voice. His hand was not too soft. Simply perfection. Like the rest of him.
What a coil. The Lord should have made the monster as ugly outside as he was inside.
"Your Highness," she murmured, managing a polite smile.
"Her Grace tells me you hail from Moscow," the prince said, still holding her hand. "That we never met surprises me."
Steeling herself against him, Katerina disengaged her hand from his. "I knew my good luck would end sometime." And then she walked away.
Drako admired the gentle sway of her hips as she retreated. The contessa possessed many irresistible attributes. Beauty and talent. Intelligence and wit. Mystery and challenge.
Snatching her hand out of his did not deter him, merely added to her allure. If she stole a peek at him, the lady would be his eventually and, less important, so too would his cousin's five thousand pounds.
Look at me, Drako willed her, and I will squander those five thousand pounds on you.
The Contessa de Salerno paused to greet his cousins and their wives. While speaking, she turned her head and gave him a sidelong glance.
Well done, my Russian beauty. Drako inclined his head in her direction, enjoying her embarrassment at being caught. How long had it been since he had seen a sincere blush staining a lady's cheeks?
"I believe you are correct about the contessa suiting me," Drako said, looking at the duchess who was watching their byplay. "Choose the contessa for your May Queen."
"Kat could name another gentleman for her king," the duchess warned him.
Drako assumed an admonishing expression. "There is no chance of that happening."
"You arrogant devil."
"You adore arrogant devils," Drako teased her. "After all, you married one."
Her dimpled smile appeared. "I have lived to rue that day."
"You have loved every irritating moment."
Drako nodded at her and sauntered in the direction of his cousins, his gaze fixed on his quarry. Reaching their group, he stood beside the contessa. She pointedly ignored his presence.
"My lady," Prince Rudolf started introducing them, "I present my cousin---"
"We have met," Katerina interrupted, sparing no glance for the cousin.
"Have you met my brothers, Lykos and Gunter?" Drako asked her.
"Prince Rudolf introduced them," Katerina answered, still without looking at him.
"Is something wrong with my appearance?" Drako asked his cousins' wives.
"No, of course not," Princess Samantha answered.
Princess Regina wore a puzzled smile. "Why do you ask?"
Drako struggled against a smile. "The contessa refuses to look at me."
"There is nothing wrong with your appearance." Katerina rounded on him, her dark gaze colliding with his. "The Devil has the power to assume a pleasing shape."
"Thank you for the compliment." Laughter shone from his incredible blue eyes. "The Duchess of Inverary called me an arrogant devil."
That made her smile. "Her Grace is an excellent judge of character."
"Touche, la contessa."
"I have never seen anything as compelling as my aunt's brooch," Princess Samantha said.
"Actually, the brooch is a replica of a gift my father gave the czar." Katerina knew she had said too much as soon as the words slipped from her lips.
"Your father travels in the highest circles," Drako said. "Who is he?"
The prince was sharper than her wire-cutting snips.
"My father does travel in the highest circles," Katerina said. "He is deceased."
"Samantha, commission a piece for yourself," Prince Rudolf said, helping her evade his cousin's question.
"Mere gems do not interest me," Samantha told her husband. "I already possess the jewel in the Kazanov crown."
Prince Rudolf smiled. "Thank you, my love."
"A woman can never own too many jewels, a lady's insurance against life's rainy days," Katerina said. "Pearls accentuated by diamonds would embellish your classic beauty."
"What would embellish my classic beauty?" Drako asked, making his cousins and their wives laugh.
Katerina stared him full in the face and pretended to study his features. "A crucifix wrapped in wolfbane?"
Drako laughed, catching her with his easy humor. "My lady, may I have this dance?" When she opened her mouth to decline, he surprised her by saying, "Your jasmine fragrance symbolizes amiability so you cannot refuse me."
"I would enjoy dancing with you," Katerina lied, accepting his hand.
Stepping onto the dance floor, Drako and Katerina joined the other couples swirling in time to the music. The prince place his hand on her waist and drew her indiscreetly close. She tried to inch back, but he refused to let her retreat.
Katerina did not want to like him and fought the urge to lose herself in the music and the man, his skill and his sandalwood scent intoxicating her. She squelched that unwanted feeling and concentrated on the astounding fact that she was waltzing with her enemy.
"Your admirers appear unhappy with your choice of partners," Katerina said, observing the Blonde Brigade's disgruntled expressions.
"And so are yours." Drako smiled at her. "You seem familiar."
"And so do you."
"What are you doing in England?" he asked.
Katerina gave him her sweetest smile. "Living."
"And where do you do that?"
"I live in a house"---He leveled an unamused look on her---"located on Lancelot Place in Trevor Square."
"What did you say your maiden name was?"
"I did not mention my maiden name." When he arched a brow at her, she asked, "Where is your princess?"
Drako dropped his gaze to her lips and, for one awful moment, she feared he might kiss her. "Alas, I am still searching for the appropriate woman to wear the title."
Katerina glanced at the Blonde Brigade. "You are attracting many admiring candidates."
"I require a loving wife, not a greedy one." Drako escorted her off the dance floor as the music ended. "Besides, I prefer to do the chasing."
"What a novel idea."
"You are not searching for a wealthy husband?"
"I can take care of myself," she told him.
"Designing jewels like that bracelet?"
Katerina stiffened, though she managed to keep her expression pleasantly blank. Had he recognized his gift to her sister?
Before she think of a reply, Drako leaned close to whisper, "No man warming your bed makes for a cold existence."
"Excuse me, Your Highness." Katerina walked away, giving him no time to stop her.
Deciding to leave before succumbing to the powerful urge to vent her anger, Katerina wended her way through the crowd toward the door. She stopped short when a gentleman blocked her path.
"At the last ball, you promised me second dance," Prince Yuri said.
Katerina forced herself to smile. Her business hinged on good public relations. "So I did, Your Highness, but---"
"No excuses, my lady."
Katerina accepted his hand and stepped onto the dance floor. At least, this prince kept a respectable distance between their bodies as they circled the ballroom.
"I must warn you to keep Drako Kazanov at bay," Prince Yuri said, his words for her ears only.
That got her attention. "What do you mean?"
"Beware Kazanov, for his reputation with women is legendary," Yuri said. "His fiance committed suicide rather than marry him."
The music ended before Katerina could question him further. His remarks troubled her. What had Kazanov done that would make his fiance suicidal? She supposed anything was possible. After all, he had shot her brother in the back.
Did Yuri know what had transpired five years earlier? If so, could he be persuaded to testify against Drako Kazanov in a court of law? No, that would only reveal her identity, ruin her thriving business, and put the prince on guard. She needed to exact her own justice.
Prince Yuri bowed over her hand in courtly manner. "Do not forget my cufflinks."
Wearing a troubled expression, Katerina glanced in Drako's direction and caught him watching her. And then another gentleman appeared in front of her.
"Dance with me?"
Katerina smiled at the Marquis of Huntly. She could hardly refuse a friend and prospective customer.
"Yes, Douglas, I will dance with you and then intend to end my evening."
The marquis escorted her onto the dance floor. She stepped into his arms, but her mind was on Drako Kazanov who was partnering Princess Anya, the worst of the Blonde Brigade.
Why should the sight of Drako dancing with the blonde witch trouble her? She despised him. Perhaps death came too quickly. Forty years of marriage to one of the Blonde Brigade might be considered an appropriate torment. That idea made her lips twitch.
"What is so amusin'?" the marquis asked.
"My mind wandered to my daughter," Katerina said. "I apologize."
"At the risk of intrudin' in yer private business," he said, "I must warn you aboot somethin'."
Another warning? Katerina tensed, her dark gaze fixing on his.
"Dinna trust those foreigners."
"Are you referring to Yuri and Drako?"
"Yes, indeed."
Katerina could not suppress her bubble of laughter, drawing the interested attention of other dancers. "My lord, I am a foreigner."
Douglas Gordon had the good grace to chuckle at himself. "Beautiful ladies are never considered foreigners."
"Thank you for the compliment," Katerina said, as the music ended, "but I know my limitations."
Keeping her gaze lowered to avoid eye contact and another invitation to dance, Katerina began her journey to the door again. She had gained several potential commissions and, more important, had seen the monster who had destroyed her family.
"I apologize for my inappropriate remark."
Katerina recognized the husky voice even before she lifted her gaze to Drako Kazanov. "Apology accepted."
When she moved to pass him, Drako said, "You do not sound forgiving."
"I did not forgive you," Katerina told him. "I accepted your apology."
"Please do not leave." Drako reached out and touched her arm, sending a hot shiver down her spine. "I must speak with you."
Katerina arched a perfectly-shaped brow at him. "Speak, Your Highness."
Prince Drako drew her away from any potential eavesdroppers, the palm of his hand on the small of her back guiding her to a secluded alcove. Katerina noted several curious glances cast in their direction. If this man ruined her good reputation, she would kill him twice.
Whirling around to face him, Katerina felt overwhelmed. Standing against the wall, she needed to tilt her head back in order to look him in the eye.
"Beware of Prince Yuri," Drako warned her. "He is less than scrupulous, especially with women."
Katerina suppressed the urge to laugh in his face. Was this the proverbial pot calling the kettle black?
"I can handle Yuri," Katerina said. "How strange, Yuri felt compelled to warn me against you, Your Highness. Will you call him out for insulting you with disparaging comments?"
"I would never challenge a man for voicing an opinion," Drako said.
"And what if a man challenged you?" she asked, thinking of her deceased brother.
"I never allow others to goad me into rash action," he answered, "and a duel requires two participants."
"You would refuse to answer a challenge though some would name you a coward?"
"I assure you, my bloodthirsty countess, I am an expert marksman," Drako said, seeming amused by her questions. "A gentleman withstands outrageous slurs if the alternative means taking another's life."
Katerina stared into his piercing blue gaze, uncertain if he spoke sincerely. If the prince truly believed what he said, how could he have shot Ilya?
"I want to commission a special piece," Drako said when she remained silent. "I will supply the stones."
That surprised her. "You are interested in precious gems?"
Drako knew he had whetted her interest. "My brothers and I share ownership of several gem companies and mines in various countries." He lowered his voice to a husky whisper, "I own the Sancy."
"Le Grand Sancy?" Even her own father had spoken in awe of the fabled diamond.
Seigner de Sancy, the French ambassador in Constantinople, had purchased the fifty-five carat, pear-shaped diamond more than two hundred years earlier. The French king had persuaded Sancy to loan him the stone as security for raising money to pay his army. De Sancy entrusted the diamond to a messenger who was later found dead without the stone.
"The Sancy has been missing for two hundred years," Katerina said. "Where did you get it?"
"I enjoy many contacts across Europe and the East," Drako hedged. "I could be persuaded to allow you a peek."
Katerina flicked her tongue out to wet her lips, excitement surging through her. She recalled her father speaking about the fabled diamond and his wish to see the Sancy and other famous stones before he died.
The dragon prince was a devil who had gauged her weakness and was trying to entice her. To what end, though? His purpose eluded her.
"My daughter and my work fill my days," Katerina refused his offer, albeit with great reluctance. "However, I would be interested in purchasing stones if the price is right."
"We can discuss price when I view your designs," Drako said. "My invitation to see the Sancy stands if you change your mind."
"I may reconsider when time permits."
Katerina studied his chiseled features. She could see nothing of Viveka in the prince. True, the girl resembled her sister, but something felt wrong. Was Hektor correct? Could Alina have been calling for Prince Drako's help rather than blaming him for betraying her and their child?
Perhaps she would not kill him. After all, she would never wish to shoot an innocent man. Enticing him to love her and stealing the Sancy would suffice.
"Do you like what you see?" Drako asked, his voice intimately hoarse.
"I apologize for staring," Katerina said. "My mind had wandered to another time and place."
"Where were you?"
She gave him an ambiguous smile. "Moscow."
The orchestra stopped playing abruptly, drawing their attention, giving him no chance to question her. The Duke of Inverary held his arm up for everyone's attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my lovely wife informs me that the time has arrived to crown tonight's May Queen," the duke announced. "Roxie's choice is a relative newcomer among us, an artistic genius, and a lovely young woman---the Contessa de Salerno."
Katerina felt her heart sinking to her stomach, her composure slipping as the guests turned to look at her, hidden in the alcove with the dragon prince. She had not anticipated this and disliked being caught off guard. The center of attention was a dangeous place for her lest somone discover her true identity. These people would shun her if they knew the truth, and then her family would starve.
"Allow me, my lady." Drako took her hand in his to lead her across the ballroom. "Their Graces are waiting to crown you."
Katerina allowed the prince to escort her to the top of the room but refused to meet anyone's gaze along the way. With all eyes upon her, Katerina felt the ballroom was a mile long.
Smiling, the Duke of Inverary set a hawthorn blossom wreath on her head. "You must choose your king and then share the Maypop cup."
"Maypop?"
"Passion flower wine."
Katerina glanced at Drako who now stood nearby with his eldest cousin. Prince Yuri appeared arrogantly expectant while Douglas smiled in amusement. His stepmother's eyes were daggers, and the Blonde Brigade---Anya, Lavinia, Cynthia---was noticeably miserable. Katerina needed to act with extreme care. She could not choose a married man lest she offended his wife, nor could she choose most of the eligible bachelors. She refused to demonstrate partiality to any particular gentleman.
"I wish to welcome Prince Drako Kazanov to London by choosing him as my king," she told the duke, her voice no louder than a whisper.
"How gracious, my lady." The Duke of Inverary announced, "Welcoming our newly-arrived royals to England, the Contessa de Salerno has chosen Prince Drako Kazanov."
Needing no encouragement, Drako stepped forward and bowed over her hand. "Grazie, la contessa. Did you know this holiday celebrates sexual license?"
Katerina's lips turned up in a feline smile. "Did you know in the Romany culture the May King is sacrificed after mating with the Queen?"
"The Romany culture? Are you a bluestocking, my Russian gypsy?"
"I am no bluestocking, nor am I your anything."
Drako held the goblet of passion flower wine for Katerina. Then he sipped the wine before handing the duke the goblet.
Together, Drako and Katerina stepped onto the dance floor for their solitary waltz. The prince danced with the easy grace of a man who had waltzed a thousand times, weaving a spell around her, encouraging her to forget their audience.
When the music ended, Drako gently drew her close. "Thus with a kiss I die," he quoted Shakespeare, and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.
"You call that a kiss?" Prince Rudolf called, eliciting laughter from their audience.
Without warning, Drako yanked her against his body, his arms encircling her. One hand held the back of her head, the other on the small of her back pressing her against his muscular frame.
Drako claimed her in a smoldering kiss. His lips were warm and firm, first persuading and then demanding her surrender. He moved his mouth on hers, encouraging her to follow his lead. His sandalwood scent surrounded her, and his body heat seeped through her flimsy gown to warm her.
Powerless to resist, Katerina responded to his skill and mastery. The world faded away, his lips on hers capturing her whole being. She wanted more. So much more.
And then muted noises sounded as if from a great distance away. Masculine chuckles and feminine giggles and embarrassed coughing yanked her back to reality like a dousing of cold water.
Breaking the kiss, Katerina stepped back a pace. She stared at his mouth, her expression stunned, shaken by her own response.
"I am still living," Drako teased her.
In a flash of movement, Katerina slapped him. Hard. So hard his head jerked to the side and their audience gasped.
Drako gave her a lopsided grin. "Barely alive."
top
Chapter 3
Hektor was going to give her grief.
Katerina eyed her brother across the dining table the next morning. After dragging the Times closer, he opened to the society gossip column and smiled. She suspected that his nonchalant attitude was feigned, and he had earlier read something in the newspaper.
"High society crowded the Duke of Inverary's annual Beltane Ball, a holiday celebrating lovers and spring's arrival," Hektor read, a smile lurking in his voice. "An Italian countess, the evening's May Queen, chose an eligible Russian prince as her consort. During their solitary waltz, the prince broke dozens of hopeful hearts by giving the countess a passionate kiss, which earned His Highness a stinging slap. Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
Katerina felt a blush heating her cheeks. "Thank you, Hektor. I must commend your vastly improved reading ability."
"You kissed a prince?" Roksana exclaimed.
"The prince kissed me."
"Are you going to marry him?" Ludmilla asked.
"If you marry him," Roksana asked, "will we become princesses, too?"
Katerina heard a muffled squawk of laughter from Dudley at the sideboard. No doubt, the servants' gossip would spread faster than the black plague.
"Mummy Zia, I want to be a princess," Viveka said.
Putting an arm around her daughter, Katerina planted a kiss on the crown of her blond head. "You are my princess, Viveka."
Katerina rose from her chair, saying, "I must polish those rings." Before disappearing out the door, she warned, "Do not tell anyone our last name."
"Do you want us to lie?" Hektor asked.
"Simply emulate the politicians," she answered. "Say, you cannot recall."
Her anger simmering, Katerina marched down the passageway connecting the house on Lancelot Place to the studio and forge on Merlin's Way. Prince Drako and the Times reporter were jeopardizing her good reputation. She had worked hard to make a new life for her family and herself and refused to risk her business, endangering her family, because the prince desired feminine diversion. If he needed a distraction, let him seek it elsewhere.
Inside her studio, Katerina donned her work apron and fingerless gloves. Then she took a felt polishing stick and the Flambeau girl's wedding band.
Katerina saw Drako's smiling image in the enormous diamond. How could she have known the prince was devilishly handsome? How could she have known her only enemy in the world would give her that sizzling kiss? How could she have known that kiss would become the evening's entertainment for hundreds of London's elite?
Her resolve failed her. Though her hatred had simmered for five long years, Katerina knew she could not kill Drako Kazanov. Hektor had been correct. Her sister calling for Drako did not prove that he was the man who had destroyed her family.
What about Ilya, though? Her impulsive older brother had rushed to challenge the man who had dishonored Alina and had taken a bullet in his back for his trouble.
Questions and doubts persisted. Who had dishonored and abandoned her sister? Who had murdered her brother, causing her father's heart attack?
Katerina decided to settle on a less violent revenge. She would entice the prince to love her and then steal Le Grand Sancy.
If she learned he was an innocent man, she would return the diamond. If he proved guilty, then she would kill him.
Giving herself a mental shake, Katerina began polishing the diamond. And then she lost herself in her work as she always did.
"My lady?"
Katerina looked over her shoulder. "Yes, Dudley?"
"The princes have arrived."
"Princes?" she echoed, her mind still on the diamond.
"Princes Stepan, Mikhail, and Drako Kazanov."
Katerina looked at the workbench timepiece. Four hours had flown, and she had not changed her morning gown in preparation for clients.
So be it, she thought. Her shabby appearance would discourage the lecherous pain-in-the-arse prince.
"Serve refreshments," Katerina instructed the majordomo.
"Yes, my lady. How long shall I tell them to wait?"
She gave him a puzzled smile. "I will be walking directly behind you."
Dudley dropped his gaze to her morning gown and apron. His expression registered disapproval.
Katerina arched an ebony brow at him. "Do you detect something wrong with my appearance?"
The majordomo cleared his throat. "Well, His Highness is a wealthy, titled, eligible bachelor," Dudley answered, "and you are an eligible lady. I assumed---" He shrugged and turned away.
"What are your goals in life?" Katerina stopped him with her question.
"I pray for your happiness and---"
"Speak truthfully of your goals."
His lips twitched. "I pray for your happy marriage to a wealthy, exalted aristocrat."
Her dark gaze narrowed. "Why?"
"I yearn to announce London's elite entering your grand ballroom for society functions."
"I do not own a grand ballroom," Katerina reminded him.
"Obtaining a grand ballroom is easy once you have trapped a wealthy aristocrat into marriage," Dudley told her. "Imagine, a house filled with beautiful baby aristocrats---"
"My morning gown will suffice for today," Katerina interrupted, removing her gloves and apron. "If the prince thinks I am trying to attract his attention, he will lose interest in me, and that is not a winning strategy."
The majordomo brightened at her words. "My lady, your beauty is matched only by your shrewd intelligence."
"Thank you, Dudley, but do not forget my talent at creating jewels."
When she entered the formal drawing room, Katerina saw her brother and sisters chatting with Princes Stepan and Mikhail. Drako stood near the window overlooking the garden.
"Good afternoon, Your Highnesses." Katerina walked toward the Kazanov brothers, aware their cousin had turned at the sound of her voice.
The princes stood, as did her brother. Drako crossed the room and bowed over her hand.
"You are even more ravishing by daylight," Drako said, making her sisters giggle.
"You are too kind, Your Highness." Katerina shifted her gaze to her sisters. "Return to your studies now."
After they had gone, Katerina sat on the red uphostered settee and placed three jewel cases beside the Worcester porcelain tea service on the table.
Hektor resumed his place opposite her while Stepan and Mikhail sat on the sofa. Drako made himself comfortable beside her on the settee, his sandalwood scent sending her nerves into a near riot.
"I saw your daughter playing in the garden." Drako rested his arm across the back of the settee behind her. "Her blond hair surprised me. Does she take after her father?"
"Viveka resembles my deceased older sister." Katerina looked at the others. "How do you take your tea?"
"I will pour the tea," Drako said, "while you conduct your business."
That annoyed her. The devil was assuming the role of host, but she could not protest lest these princes and their wives find themselves another jeweler."
Katerina managed an insincere smile. "Thank you, Your Highness."
"Call me Drako," he said, reaching for the teapot.
"I would not feel comfortable doing---"
"I command you to call me Drako."
Katerina inclined her head, deferring to his preference. "Drako, then."
"Please excuse me," Hektor said, standing. "I have not read the morning Times today."
Drawing smiles from his cousins, Drako said, "Do not bypass the society gossip, Mister Hektor I-Cannot-Recall-My-Last-Name."
A hot blush stained Katerina's cheeks. Drako and Hektor had apparently enjoyed a revealing conversation.
"Yuri will be stopping here," Katerina reminded her brother. "Do you understand what I want?"
"I remember your instructions," Hektor assured her. "Though, my last name does escape me."
"What are your instructions regarding Yuri?" Drako asked.
"I never discuss my clients."
"I commend your discretion, my lady, now tell me what the problem is with Yuri." Drako gave her a boyishly charming smile. "We will not breath a word to anyone else."
Katerina glanced at Stepan and Mikhail, who were waiting for her answer. "I follow the great bard's advice: Put not your faith in princes."
Drako set a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of her. "Poor Yuri."
Katerina ignored the tea. Instead, she reached for one of the black jewel cases and opened its lid.
"Your bride's wedding ring," she said, passing the case to Prince Stepan.
The wedding ring lay on a bed of black velvet. An enormous solitare diamond perched on a channel-set band of diamonds set in platinum.
"Exquisite," Prince Stepan said.
"Superb craftmanship," Prince Drako added.
"Craftswomanship," Katerina corrected him, making the three men smile. "And here is your bride's wedding gift."
The larger jewel case held a matching necklace, bracelet, and earrings. All three pieces had been created with oval-cut sapphires and diamonds set in platinum.
Katerina reached for her teacup and sipped the steaming brew while the princes admired her work. Relaxing back on the settee, Katerina felt the prince's arm on her shoulders and bolted upright away from the unwanted contact. She glanced at him, saying, "Help yourself to Nonna Strega's anise cookies."
He gave her a puzzled smile. "Grandmother Witch?"
"A pet name from her daughters, Viveka's nannies," Katerina explained. "Are you familiar with the Italian language?"
He shrugged. "I know a few words and phrases."
Stepan lifted his gaze from his bride's wedding gift. "The duchess is correct. You are a design genius."
"I do hope you are still complimentary when I send you my bill." Katerina reached for the last case.
The jewel case held a ring with a square-cut diamond set in platinum. Emeralds in the shape of leaves circled the enormous stone.
"I hope this pleases your betroth," Katerina said, passing it to Mikhail. "Her Grace insisted a large diamond makes a statement"---the men chuckled at that---"and your bride has an interest in gardening."
"Belle will love it," Mikhail said.
"Your bride has not accepted your proposal," Stepan teased his brother.
Prince Mikhail gave him an unamused glance. "Belle will marry me, baby brother, and will be wearing this betrothal ring within days of your marriage."
"A simple scrolled wedding band will complement such an elaborate betrothal ring," Katerina said. "A butterfly brooch will make a spectacular wedding gift since flowers and butterflies are found in gardens. I thought yellow diamonds on gold to form the body and wings created in white diamonds, pink tourmalines, and amethysts. What do you say?"
"I say you are amazing," Mikhail answered.
Katerina inclined her head, accepting his compliment as her due. "I am expensive, too."
"Her Grace plans to announce our betrothal in the Friday Times," Mikhail said, "and I will present Belle her ring that morning."
"How can the duchess announce the betrothal," Stepan asked, "when the bride has not accepted your proposal?"
Mikhail rounded on his smirking brother. "Worry about your own wife, and leave mine to me."
"Friday is the day of Her Grace's Ladies Luncheon," Katerina remarked, leaning back and bolting upright again away from the prince's arm. She wished he would give her space. "Belle, of course, will wave her victory beneath the noses of the disappointed."
"More likely, the duchess will be waving the ring beneath those noses." Mikhail changed the subject then, asking, "How old is your daughter?"
"Viveka is five."
"Once Belle and I marry, my daughter Bess will be hosting a tea party for her cousins," Mikhail said. "We will send her an invitation."
"Viveka will love making friends her own age," Katerina said, wondering if Drako had instigated the invitation. "The company of adults can become tedious to an active child."
"Be certain to supply Viveka with a few tidbits of pretend gossip," Stepan told her. "The girls adore gossiping about make-believe society."
"I will think of something startling for Viveka to share with the girls," Drako said, his piercing blue gaze on the lady and a smile flirting with his lips. "Stolen kisses from a prince and all that."
"My lady?" Dudley entered the drawing room before Katerina could tell the prince to keep his distance from her daughter. "Excuse me, my lady, but the Marquis of Huntly requests an interview."
"Douglas?" Katerina could have sworn their appointment was the following week.
"Tell the Scotsman to come tomorrow," Drako instructed the majordomo, earning himself a censorious look from his hostess. Dudley looked from the prince to Katerina. "His Lordship insists on speaking with you."
Katerina looked at the princes and shrugged. "Send the marquis here, Dudley."
A few minutes later, Douglas Gordon walked into the drawing room. He nodded at the Kazanov brothers but leveled an expression of supreme contempt on Drako.
"You are welcome, my lord," Katerina greeted him, fighting a smile at the marquis's reaction to the prince, "but I thought we scheduled our appointment for next week."
"I wanted to assure myself of yer welfare"---he shot Drako a pointed look---"after that tidbit in this mornin's Times."
"As you can see, the contessa is fine," Drako answered for her.
"No thanks to ye," the marquis muttered.
"Please be seated, Douglas," Katerina invited him. "Take a cup of tea with us."
"I do believe I will." The Marquis of Huntly dropped onto the sofa. "Are those sweet thin's Nonna Strega's anise cookies?"
"Help yourself," Katerina said, passing him the plate.
The Marquis of Huntly bit into a cookie and then rolled his eyes, indicating paradise. "Some day I'll steal Nonna away from ye, Kat, and then what will ye do?"
"I will weep a river most likely." Katerina watched Drako pour tea into a cup and slide it toward the marquis.
"I dinna want tea ye've touched," Huntly told him, illiciting smothered chuckles from the Kazanov brothers. "I dinna like ye." Then the marquis winked at Katerina, negating his childish statement.
Prince Drako narrowed his gaze on the Scotsman. "I do not care much for you either, but I had the good grace to pour your tea."
"We Scots arena as refined as ye foreigners," Huntly said. "I apologize for hurtin' yer feelin's."
"My skin is thicker than that," Drako replied, irritation tingeing his voice.
"I'll pass on the tea," Huntly said, pausing to check his pocket watch. "I've made plans with Cousin Ross to practice our golfin', and then we'll be stoppin' for a whisky."
"Real men drink vodka," Drako said. "Whisky is for women."
The Marquis of Huntly turned a frosty grey gaze on the prince. "Will ye be golfin' on the Mall next Friday?"
Prince Drako glanced at his cousins, who nodded. "I will be there," he told the marquis.
Huntly smiled like a fox handed the key to the hen house. "I look forward to seein' ye golf." Then he looked at the Kazanov brothers, asking, "Do either of ye know anythin' aboot the Seven Doves Company?"
Prince Mikhail flicked a glance at his brother. "Why do you ask?"
"The owner is undercuttin' my prices," the marquis told them. "I tracked Wopsle down, but he deals with the Seven Doves through another agent---Alexander Puddles."
Prince Stepan laughed and held his hand up. "I am laughing at the man's name."
The marquis grinned. "Sounds like a dog, doesna it?"
Prince Mikhail reddened as if he, too, would explode into laughter. "I will ask around and let you know what I discover."
"Thank ye, Yer Highness." Douglas Gordon stood to leave, saying to Katerina, "I will see ye next week aboot that piece I want." And then he quit the chamber.
A moment after the marquis disappeared out the door, the Kazanov brothers burst into uncontrollable laughter. Katerina looked at Drako, who shrugged his ignorance.
"Tell them," Mikhail gasped, regaining his ability to speak.
Prince Stepan slid his gaze from her to his cousin. "You must keep this in the strictest confidence."
"I promise," Katerina said.
Drako inclined his head. "You know I never tell tales."
"Bliss Flambeau is a mathematical genius," Prince Stepan began, "and the Flambeau sisters formed the Seven Doves Company to pauper their father."
"After Inverary acknowledged them," Mikhail continued, "Bliss turned the company's interests elsewhere thereby endangering Huntly's profits."
"Who is Wopsle?" Katerina asked.
"Wopsle is their business agent," Stepan answered, "but Alexander Blake has been dealing with Wopsle for Bliss because no one will work with a woman."
"Who is Alexander Puddles?" Drako asked.
"Puddles is the Flambeau dog," Mikhail answered, making them smile. "And, yes, I do believe the mastiff earned its name."
"I applaud their ingenuity," Katerina said. "I would never have guessed those sweet girls could be so deliciously devious."
"I believe the countess loves to see women besting men at their own games," Drako drawled.
Katerina ignored his comment. "What piece were you considering, Drako?"
"I want a dragon pendant on a gold chain," he answered.
"A dragon pendant for the dragon prince," she said. "Front view or side?"
Drako glanced down at his own body. "Side, I think, with slight modifications. I would not want to startle the ladies."
Katerina was not amused. "Full body or head only?"
"Full body, of course."
"Breathing fire or not?"
Drako grinned. "Breathing fire, definitely."
"Give me a week to design the sketches."
"I will give you anything you desire," Drako said, his voice seductively husky.
"Will you leave me alone?" Katerina countered, and then heard chuckles from their audience.
"Anything but that, my lady."
Before she could reply, Hektor entered the drawing room. Beside him walked Yuri.
Spying her guests, Prince Yuri's expression tightened into a pinch. "Good afternoon, my lady."
"Welcome to my home, Your Highness," Katerina greeted him, her smile polite. "Take tea with us."
"No, thank you." Prince Yuri ignored the three Kazanovs. "Another appointment requires my attention."
Apparently, Drako Kazanov was good for something, keeping Yuri at bay. The last time she designed him cufflinks, the prince had wasted the better part of an afternoon regaling her with stories about himself and fending off his questions about her personal life.
"Shall I sketch a few designs and send you a note when finished?" Katerina asked, aware the prince's gaze had drifted to Drako's arm on the settee behind her.
Prince Yuri nodded. "Please do."
"That sounds like an excellent idea," Hektor spoke up. "My sister will begin the actual work as soon as you settle your account for the last pair of cufflinks."
The prince's complexion mottled with embarrassed anger, and he turned to her. "Do you---?"
"I do apologize for my brother," Katerina interrupted, feigning appalled surprise, "but I know nothing about business dealings. After all, I am only a woman. Hektor is the man of the household and takes charge of monetary details." She forced a nervous giggle, gushing, "Goodness, I know nothing of numbers and such, but I do love spending money."
"I understand, dear lady." Yuri turned to Hektor, saying, "I must have misplaced the bill. Send me another." Without another word, the prince walked out of the drawing room.
"How did I do?" Hektor asked.
Kaerina gave him a smile of aproval. "Perfectly, brother. I see a glimmer of hope for you after all."
The Kazanov princes smiled with appreciation.
"Using a gentleman's bias against him is shrewd," Drako complimented her. "Poor Yuri could not hold his anger because you are, after all, merely a woman. You receive payment and retain his business."
"I have received no payment yet," Katerina said. "Yuri can be slippery, and I predict the possibility of his misplacing another bill for the cufflinks."
"Yuri is the prince of sponges," Hektor remarked.
"Though a prince, Yuri usually suffers from a lack of coin," Mikhail told them.
"I wish I could charge interest on outstanding balances," Katerina said, "but that could harm my business."
"La contessa, I believe the two of us would make a clever team," Drako said.
Katerina looked him straight in the eye. "I work alone."
The Kazanov princes stood to leave. Katerina and Drako walked down the hall together. Ahead of them walked Hektor between the Kazanov brothers.
"What is between you and the Scotsman?" Drako asked her. "He seemed familiar with your home."
"All my clients are familiar with my home," Katerina answered him.
"I am not prying," Drako said. "Humor me with an honest answer. Please."
The magical word please from an arrogant prince worked a minor miracle. "Douglas Gordon is a client and a friend."
Drako nodded and dropped the subject. "Inverary has found a house for me and my brothers in Grosvenor Square. We will be moving this week."
"How convenient to live near your extended family," Katerina said, starting down the stairs. Too bad, three of her family had been destroyed, and the man beside her could well be the cause of their untimely deaths.
"I will escort you to Stepan's wedding," Drako told her.
"Are you asking or commanding?" Katerina said. "I do not require---"
"I would never presume to command you to accompany me," Drako interrupted. "The Duchess of Inverary suggested we attend together. You would never wish to offend Her Grace with her love of expensive jewels and deep pockets."
Katerina knew when she had been bested. The prince was correct. Ignoring the duchess's suggestion could hurt her business.
"I can see you are a formidable businessman," she remarked.
"Thank you, my lady."
"I was insulting you."
"How dare you."
Katerina laughed at his wit in spite of herself. And then she regretted softening her attitude.
Drako grasped her hand and bowed over it in courtly manner. "I knew I could make you smile."
After the door closed behind the princes, Katerina caught her majordomo smiling at her. "What is it, Dudley?"
"I must say, my lady, your strategy is excellent."
His comment confused her. "To what strategy do you refer?"
"Playing hard-to-get with His Highness." Dudley passed her a sealed missive. "This arrived while you were conferring with the princes."
Katerina opened the note, its contents surprising her. Consort with Prince Drako at your peril.
"Did Yuri leave this?" Katerina asked, passing Hektor the note.
"Prince Yuri was upstairs when it arrived," Dudley answered, peering over her brother's shoulder to read the note.
"Who delivered it?"
"I don't know," Dudley said. "I answered a knock on the door and found that lying on the doorstep."
"We should contact the constable," Hektor said, pocketing the note.
Katerina dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "Someone read the gossip in this morning's Times and decided to prank me."
Is this note a friendly warning that Drako Kazanov is dangerous? Katerina wondered. Or is it a threat to keep my distance from him?
top
* "Enticing The Prince" is now available for pre-order! If you order "Enticing The Prince" on amazon before publication, amazon gives a 5 percent discount.
|
