To make him happy—or at least quiet—Meagan moved to the chair and plopped into it. Gaius beamed and turned to seat Michael and Simone.
Simone readily took her chair and smiled at Gaius, who’d set a stool under her feet. “We are frightfully honored, Your Grace. Fancy you choosing our daughter above all ladies to marry. Of course she is quite charming, so it is no surprise to me. I have always praised Meagan for her unusual looks.”
In truth, Simone had constantly suggested different remedies to remove Meagan’s freckles and dressing her hair in ways to not draw attention to the redness of it. And you could try a bit of slimming, darling, not that you are not adorable, but…
Michael remained standing.
“You have come to accept my offer?” Alexander began, addressing Michael. Meagan noticed that though he seemed to look at all of them at once, Alexander in fact never let his gaze rest directly on Meagan.
“We have,” Simone said.
“We have not,” Michael corrected her. “We have come to see what prompted you to make it. You must have a shortage of marriageable ladies in Nvengaria, Your Grace, as your countrymen keep snatching up English girls to wife, particularly from my family.”
Alexander’s brows rose, his cool poise not in the least dented. Meagan remembered Nikolai’s tale of how Alexander had destroyed half a city on a whim, and looking into his hard eyes this afternoon, she well believed it.
“Your speech is not quite flattering to your daughter, Mr. Tavistock,” he said.
“To the contrary, my daughter is the most important thing in the world to me, which is why I must ask why you want to marry her. There are plenty of marriageable and important young ladies in London this Season if you simply need a wife. Why has your interest lighted on Meagan?”
Meagan chewed her lip. Michael was never one to stand in awe of the aristocracy—which was where Meagan had learned her bit of rebelliousness. Michael judged men on their deeds and their character, not their birth. Alexander, it was evident, was used to being obeyed without question. And now this unimportant Englishman dared look him in the eye and request him to explain himself.
“You will of course be well compensated,” Alexander said. “And I will not require you to provide a dowry.”
“Oh, lud,” Meagan murmured. If he thought Michael would twitter at the prospect of riches and say, “Of course, Your Grace, you honor me,” he read Michael very wrong.
“She is my daughter, sir,” Michael said stiffly. “Not cattle.”
“Michael. Darling,” Simone murmured. “Do not spoil it.”
Alexander moved a few papers on his desk. “I have already put the documents in order: special license, settlements, provision for money and jewels for Miss Tavistock during her lifetime, arrangements for a staff of her own.” His gaze flicked back to Michael. “I assure you, she would be well provided for.”
“I have no doubt she would be. If Prince Damien is any indication, you Nvengarians are thorough.” Michael cleared his throat. “But though I do not like to give credence to gossip, the stories I hear of you give me pause. You did your best to assassinate Penelope and Damien last year, and now I hear our own king is terrified of you and will do anything you tell him. Your name is prominent on the guest lists of the most important social affairs, and you dine often with the Duke of Wellington and every other leader in the House of Lords. My wife reads the society papers avidly, and tells me.”
Simone gave a nod, proud to be such a good source of information.
Michael went on, “She also tells me of your less savory activities, such as your mistress. I dislike to bring up such a topic in front of my daughter, but I wish Meagan to realize exactly what kind of man she would marry. I do not believe in hiding the truth from her.”
“Nor do I,” Alexander said without missing a beat.
Meagan shifted in the chair, uncomfortably warm in the deep red room. Alexander would have prepared answers for every single question a worried father could throw at him. He was that kind of man.
“If Meagan marries me, she need have no qualms about my fidelity,” Alexander answered calmly.
Michael flushed. “But it still begs the question, why have you singled out our unimportant family? There must be many prominent ladies scattered about Europe who will benefit Nvengaria in a political marriage.”
Again, Alexander would not look directly at Meagan but merely skimmed his gaze over her and fixed it again on Michael. “When I met Miss Tavistock I made my choice.”
And that should be enough, his tone implied.
“Forgive me for being a concerned father,” Michael said dryly.
“That you are has earned my respect.”
Michael drew a breath and tried another tack. “And where would Meagan live? In Nvengaria?”
“She will live in London for now, here in Maysfield House. She will be given the title of Grand Duchess of Nvengaria and all the privileges and wealth that accompany the rank, which are considerable, I assure you—houses and properties in Nvengaria and the Grand Duchess’s jewels, which are worth a fortune.”
Michael watched him a moment, ignoring Simone, who had slid to the edge of her seat during his mention of jewels and properties.
“Your offer flatters my daughter, Your Grace, that is true,” Michael said. “But marrying you would put her among strangers, and you would not stay in London forever. Also, she would be much in the public eye, as you are, and she is not used to that.”
“She will be instructed,” Alexander said.
Michael inclined his head. “I grant you have provided for everything. But I must ask again, why? We have few connections and, truth be told, we are not overly burdened with wealth.”
Alexander’s eyes, chips of blue ice, moved almost to Meagan, then back to Michael.
Meagan sprang to her feet, unable to bear it. “This is easily settled, Father. I will refuse his suit and we will go home.”
“Oh, no, you will not,” Simone broke in fiercely. “His Grace is making a kind, and may I say it, very generous offer the likes of which we will not see again. As your father says, we are not important, so he must be offering for only one reason.” She turned her wide smile on Alexander. “You fell in love with her, did you not, Your Grace? Love strikes when one least expects it.”
Alexander’s expression did not change. “That is true, Mrs. Tavistock. I fell in love.”
“You see?”
“Did you?” Michael asked, sounding amazed. “I am sorry, but according to my wife, Meagan met you last night and you danced one dance. Based on that, you are prepared to offer her jewels, money, houses, property, and a title?”
Alexander’s brows drew together the slightest bit. Meagan held her breath, waiting for him to summon his servant to throw them into the street.
“Father,” she blurted. “May I speak to Alexander, I mean, His Grace, alone for a moment? Please?”
Alexander’s eyes flickered, and Michael turned to her in perplexity. Meagan knew that all Alexander had to do was explain that he’d compromised Meagan and his argument would be clinched. Then she’d die of mortification right here on his elegant red rug.
Simone saved the day by getting quickly to her feet. “Of course. Come along, Michael. It is obvious they need to work things out between them, and parents will be in the way.”
Her eyes bore the intensity of a woman determined to get what she wanted. She saw the prospect of her stepdaughter married to a Grand Duke, and she would push for it like a jockey pushed his horse to win the race. In Simone’s mind, Meagan had but one choice.
“Please, Papa,” Meagan said.
Michael took on a look of resignation. “Very well.” He laid his hand on Meagan’s shoulder and said in a low voice, “Remember, you can refuse him. I will still love you and stand by you, I promise you that.”
He would break her heart. Meagan blinked to keep tears from forming.
Gaius took his cue and ushered Michael and Simone out the door, leaving
her, at last, alone with Alexander.
CHAPTER SIX
Something had happened to Alexander the moment Meagan walked into the room. The previous night and all this morning he’d forced himself to be logical and cold, to put plans in motion and not think. But in his dreams he relived holding her in his arms, pressing inside of her, the taste and feel and scent of her around him.
He’d woken in the night thoroughly aroused, his cock swollen and tight. The primitive man inside him wanted to charge across London and find her and kiss her and take her. He’d been able, as he washed and dressed for the day, to tamp down the beast, hiding it behind the coolly neutral tasks of contacting his solicitor and making arrangements.
But as soon as Meagan walked into the room, the cool man departed and the predator returned. He caught her scent all the way across the room, strong like roses, light like lemon. The sinuous movement of her body under her thin silk dress sent heat through his blood. He’d remained behind the desk because he’d not be very convincing as the coolly efficient Grand Duke with the obvious erection in his breeches.
“Why do you not want to look at me, Alexander?” Meagan broke through his thoughts, her voice melodious. “It would be so much easier to speak to you, you know, if you were not staring at the moldings on the other side of the room.”
He pulled his gaze from the closed door and forced it to Meagan. “Because when I look at you, I feel the spell. I cannot control it or myself when you are in the room.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip, drawing his attention to the moist redness of it. A bead of sweat trickled down his spine. “Then perhaps we both should study the paintings on the ceiling.”
She looked up at the gaudy representations of gods and goddesses high above them, a red curl dripping to her slim neck. He wanted to go to her and kiss that neck, drawing his tongue along it and tasting the curl.
“Meagan.” He couldn’t help saying her name, wanting to feel it on his lips. “Marrying me is the best way to put things right.”
“Best for whom? I presume you mean for me, but would it be?”
She was angry and upset, and like her father, she would not grovel on the carpet, happy that Alexander wanted to bestow such an honor. She took his breath away.
“I do not understand you,” he said.
“No?” Her chest lifted with agitated breath. “I could hie off to Scotland or some such place and live out my life, unseen by society, and no one will ever know what happened between us. But if you marry me, it will be a great scandal. People will talk about it for years, the lofty Grand Duke and the plain English miss who tricked him into marrying her.”
She was worried about gossip? The Grand Duke could turn gossip to his advantage or create whatever gossip he pleased. He could play upon the English ton like a musician played a pianoforte.
“You need care nothing for that,” he said. “The Nvengarians will think it a grand romance, and their opinion is the only one that matters.”
She raised her brows. “Well, you ought to worry about what English people think if you want to be an ambassador. That is what ambassadors do, is it not, care about the customs of other people’s countries?”
“You are schooled in the way of ambassadors? That will be useful, when you are Grand Duchess.”
“When I am Grand Duchess?” She gave him an incredulous look. “You are certainly presumptuous, Your Grace. It would have been more pleasant if you’d asked me, before you sent my father that letter.”
He made a conciliatory gesture. “I admit that I mistook both your character and that of your father.”
In all his life, Alexander had never mistaken a person’s character. He’d been able to manipulate men from the lowest born to the highest by simply knowing which of their strings to pull. Anyone else in the world, having been ushered into this room, would have already agreed to sign whatever Alexander wanted him to sign or do whatever he wanted him to do. But this young Englishwoman with red hair only looked at him in complete bafflement. He was trying to save her life, and she did not want the likes of him to save it.
“Even so, it is the best solution to our predicament,” he continued. “If you give your consent, I have obtained the license and we will proceed as soon as I send for a vicar.”
She stared at him in shock. “You mean you want me to marry you right now?”
“The more quickly it is done, the easier things will be.”
Her eyes were wide, gold sparks swimming in the brown. “Good heavens, Alexander, what did you write in your diary this morning? ‘Eat breakfast, write letters, marry Miss Tavistock, meet with the cabinet’?”
“Not quite.”
“No, but very close, I imagine.”
She perplexed him. Every woman of Alexander’s acquaintance shivered when he looked at her, either in fear of what he would do or in anticipation of him taking her to bed.
Meagan neither shivered nor looked particularly amorous. As she had done last night, she assessed Alexander the man, seeing past the trappings that surrounded him. Very few females bothered to move aside the curtain and look directly at him, but Meagan was busily tearing the curtain to shreds.
She turned to pace the carpet, walking through a sunbeam that made her hair glisten. He suddenly envisioned lifting her to the desk, laying her down on the polished wood to see her red hair spread like a curtain against the mahogany.
He leaned his hands on the carved back of his chair to stop himself. “I told you last night that I would put things right.”
One side of her mouth quirked. “I imagined you meant you’d marry me off to one of your friends, some minor gentleman of increasing years who needed a wife.”
His indignation flared. “Is that what men do in England? Pass their lovers to convenient friends?”
She flicked a glance at him at the word lover. “I believe it is common practice.”
“It is not common practice in Nvengaria. I gave you my word, and I will not desert you. We were both caught by the love spell, and we will make the best of it. We may be married in name only if you wish.”
That should suit her if she wanted to keep well away from him, though he was not certain how he’d keep himself away from her. The love spell kept reminding him of how it felt to be inside her, what her voice sounded like when she said his name in broken passion.
“You are certainly a romantic, Your Grace. I must say, it is all over London that you left with Lady Anastasia last evening and that she came here with you. I know I should die of shame before I repeat such a thing, especially to you, but I am rather blunt. I think it only fair you know this before you decide to marry me.”
He smoothed his hand along the mahogany carving. Was she jealous, then? He had the words to soothe that too.
“Anastasia and I are not lovers. We have been in the past but are not at present. I asked her to accompany me home last night to focus gossip on her rather than on you. I wanted no speculation to form when you disappeared so soon after our waltz, and I could not be certain that no one noticed us leave for the terrace or go to the anteroom. Lady Anastasia spent the night at my house, but in a guest room, far from me.”
“Oh.” Her flush rose, a pretty color that slid under her décolletage. “Actually, that was clever.”
“I am pleased you approve.”
“Do not mock me. I had a terrible night, and the day has not been much better.”
“A terrible night?” Alexander smiled a chill smile. “I believe I shared that terrible night. I dreamed of nothing but you. You are haunting me and being alone in a room with you is not helping.”
“Did you dream of me?” The flush deepened. “I dreamed of you, too. We must still be under the influence of the spell.”
“Yes.” He thought he could guess what kind of erotic dreams she’d had because he’d had them too. “I want you to tell me who gave you the talisman, and what they told you it would do. I have many enemies, and they would not hesitate to use you to get to me. So, please, do not shi
eld anyone. It is important that I know.”
To his surprise, her lips twitched as though he amused her. Perhaps that was what he found so fascinating—she looked at the world in an entirely different manner than he did. He scented danger and shadows everywhere; she walked in sunlight.
“Something is funny?” he asked.
“It is all so silly. It has nothing to do with enemies. I got the talisman from Black Annie, but by mistake.”
Alexander examined his memory for the name but could not place it. “Black Annie? I do not think I know…”
Meagan waved her hand as though it were of no importance. “She has a house just off the Strand. All the ladies go to her for potions and the like. She is harmless, I suppose.”
“You suppose. But you are not certain?”
Meagan fluttered her hand again, as though trying to erase her words. “I am annoyed with her, but over another matter. The talisman was not even meant for me. It was meant for my friend Deirdre Braithwaite, who wanted…well, she wanted…” Her face went red. “You are Grand Duke of Nvengaria, after all, and quite handsome, I must say.”
“She wished to couple with me? To slake her lust?”
Meagan’s cheeks burned redder. “You like to put things as bluntly as I do, but I suppose that’s easiest. Being blunt, that is. No one can mistake your meaning that way.”
“I believe you are wrong.”
“About you being blunt? No, indeed, thus far, you are the most blunt man of my acquaintance.”
She made him want to laugh, even through his impatience, and she could not know how precious that was to him. “I meant about the talisman,” he said. “Talismans like this one cannot be transferred from person to person. They are made for one man and one woman specifically. Your Black Annie made it for you to give to me.”
She shook her head, red curls dancing. “But she did not. My friend got a lock of your hair and paid Black Annie to make it for her.”
“Did your friend ever touch the talisman?”
Meagan’s look turned thoughtful. “No. Black Annie had me put my finger on it to hold the wire she tied, and a drop of my blood got on it.”