Lord Buckingham’s Bride (19 page)

Alison backed slowly away from the door as she heard footsteps approaching. She could hear the soft jingle of spurs and knew to whom those steps belonged. Her pulse had quickened and she could hear her terrified heartbeats as the key turned in the lock. She could press no farther away, for she had reached the wall. A choked sob rose in her throat as the door swung open and Nikolai stood there.

His dark glance raked her from head to toe and then he entered the room, closing the door behind him. ‘Good morning, Alison,' he murmured.

She didn't reply, but remained pressed against the wall, her gray
eyes huge and afraid.

He came toward her. ‘We have some unfinished business, do we not?' he said softly, halting a foot or so away.

She was so frightened that she couldn't move even an inch away from him. She felt like a fly, trapped in the web of a clever, hungry spider, and her heart was thudding so loudly now that she was sure he must be able to hear it.

He put a hand out, taking a lock of her hair and parting the strands between his fingers. ‘You are so very beautiful, my dear,' he said. ‘Even now, when you are so very pale and afraid, you are quite the most lovely of creatures. I won't be denied my pleasure this time, you may be sure of that, and even though you've been so very elusive and difficult, I still offer you the choice.'

‘Choice?' she whispered.

‘Yes. Either you come to me of your own volition, or I take you by force. Which is it to be?'

‘I'll never come to you,' she breathed.

‘As you wish. It's really of no importance, for in the end I will possess you anyway.' He came closer, suddenly taking her face in his hands and bending his head forward to force his lips over hers. He could smell the lavender she wore.

She began to struggle then, beating her fists against him and trying to kick. He gave a low laugh, as if her resistance excited him more, and he lifted her from her feet, carrying her toward the bed.

Her struggles redoubled, but he was far too strong for her. He flung her on to the bed and then almost leapt upon her, pinning her down before she could even think of scrambling away. He pressed his body against hers, his hands sliding over her. His lips were hungry, kissing her so demandingly that he hurt her. As she writhed beneath him, striving with all her might to pull free, he became more and more aroused. He tore at her gown, and as the delicate gray velvet ripped, his fingers slid to cup her breast. With his other hand he pulled up her skirt, his hand caressing her thigh, and all the time he was kissing her, his mouth stopping her breath.

She refused to surrender and continued to struggle, but she was growing weaker because his strength was so great, made greater by the force of his lust. Her cheeks were tearstained and her lips bruised.
She couldn't cry out and she couldn't prevent him from violating her. A silent scream rang through her.

Someone help me, please. Oh, dear God, someone help me!

A
t last the rowing boat came alongside the steps that led up to the
Irina
's deck. Francis got out and made the boat fast, and then he and Captain Merryvale went quietly up on to the schooner. They paused at the top, glancing both ways along the deck. Everything was misty and deserted.

Beckoning to the captain to follow him, Francis went softly toward the stern of the vessel. Halfway along, they came upon an open door giving on to a hatchway that led down into a hold. Lamplight shone out and they heard laughter and voices. Looking inside, Francis saw what appeared to be most of the schooner's crew indulging in the Russian passion for gambling. Some were playing cards, others
throwing
dice, and another group was laying odds on a race between some cockroaches.

Francis drew back out on to the deck, closing the door very quietly. Casting around, he saw a broom resting discreetly in a corner, and quickly he wedged the handle silently through the handle on the door. When it was firmly in place, he gave the captain a quick smile.

‘That would keep them contained for a while if the alarm is raised,' he said. ‘Come on.'

They continued to make their way toward the stern of the
Irina
, listening all the while for any sound that might tell them Alison was in immediate danger, but all remained quiet.

They reached the door that gave on to the sandalwood-scented passageway. Francis pushed the door softly open, and it swung away at his touch, revealing the passage to be quite as deserted as the deck behind them. Francis led the way inside toward the beautiful door of
the stateroom. As they reached it, it suddenly opened and the dwarf came out. His jaw dropped as he saw them, and he turned to scuttle back inside, but Francis seized him by the collar. His companion, the black man, who had been following him with the lynx, was so taken by surprise that he released Khan's collar.

With a snarl the big cat leapt forward. Francis let go of the dwarf and pressed hastily behind the stateroom door, dragging the startled captain with him.

The dwarf gave a squeal and ran along the passage toward the deck, the lynx in pursuit. Once outside, the dwarf could think only of complete escape, and he dashed down the steps to the rowing boat, fumbling with a rope in his haste to get away from Khan, who was hesitating at the top of the steps, putting a tentative paw down to test the way. Pushing the rowing boat away, the dwarf scrambled to take up the oars, and he was still attempting to put them into the rowlocks as the boat slid away into the all-enveloping mist. Khan remained on the deck, padding impatiently up and down, his amber eyes eager, for he wasn't used to being free.

Meanwhile, in the stateroom, the black man had lost his footing, stumbling back as he released the lynx and falling heavily to the floor. With the danger from the lynx past for the time being, Francis wasted no time but leapt upon the fallen man, knocking him out with a sharp upper cut to the jaw. Captain Merryvale wisely hurried back along the passage, closing the outer door so that Khan could not make an unwelcome reappearance.

In the bedroom, Nikolai Ivanovich had frozen at the first squeal from the dwarf, and as he heard the ensuing sounds from the
adjoining
stateroom, he leapt away from Alison, who lay bruised and silently weeping on the bed.

The door burst open suddenly and Francis came in, followed by Captain Merryvale. Nikolai reached immediately for the pistol he always carried, but the one in Francis's hand was already leveled at him. The prince's face drained of color and his tongue passed nervously over his lips as he began to back away from Francis, his hands raised in swift and craven submission. Like so many bullies, he was a coward who could never take on his victims face to face, unless they were weaker than he.

Francis's glance flickered toward Alison and his eyes darkened with anger as he saw what had been done. He pressed the pistol into the captain's hand. ‘Keep an eye on him,' he said briefly, nodding at Nikoali, then he went to Alison.

She lay with her head turned away, her face hidden by her tangled hair. Her body trembled with stifled sobs and she had curled up defensively, her arms across the torn bodice of her gray velvet gown to hide her breasts. Her skin was bruised and scratched from the violence of Nikolai's assault and her skirt had been wrenched up to reveal her thighs.

Francis felt close to tears himself to see her like this, and he reached out gently to smooth her hair away from her face. She flinched at his touch, giving a frightened whimper, and he rested his fingertips against her tearstained cheek. ‘It's all right, Alison. It's me, Francis. You're safe now.' He took off his coat, placing it gently over her, and then he pulled her gown down to hide her legs. ‘Alison, did he…?' He couldn't say the words.

Fresh tears welled from her closed eyes and she shook her head. She felt so ashamed and defiled that she couldn't look at him, but kept her face averted.

A deep rage swept through Francis and he turned sharply about, striding across to seize Nikolai around the throat. ‘You damned animal,' he breathed, his voice shaking with loathing.

‘She wanted me. She invited me,' cried Nikolai.

Francis's fingers tightened their grip. ‘One more word and I'll put an end to your foul life right here and now,' he said in a menacing whisper that struck abject terror through Nikolai.

‘Don't hurt me. Please, don't hurt me.'

‘Hurt you? I'd like to tear your bestial throat out with my bare hands for what you've done to her.'

Suddenly there were shouts from the deck and Nikolai's terrified eyes brightened with a glimmer of hope. His crew! There were too many of them for these two. But almost immediately his hope was extinguished, for men burst into the stateroom, and they weren't his crew, but wore the czar's scarlet livery.

Dread seized Nikolai Ivanovich then, and he broke free from Francis, whose attention was momentarily diverted. Dashing toward
the door in a vain attempt to rush past the new arrivals, Nikolai very swiftly found himself seized and thrust against the wall.

‘Unhand me immediately,' he cried, trying to force some authority into his terrified voice. ‘Do you know who I am? I'll have your necks for this.'

The man in charge stepped forward. ‘Nikolai Ivanovich Naryshky, you are under arrest and are to be taken immediately to the Peter-Paul Fortress.'

Nikolai's face was ashen. ‘The Peter-Paul Fortress?' he whispered. ‘There must be some mistake, for I have done nothing. With what am I to be charged?'

‘High treason against His Imperial Majesty Czar Alexander, and against Russia. You have been an agent for France and will now pay the penalty.'

‘No! I'm innocent,' cried Nikolai, his knees giving in beneath him.

The czar's men held him, and the officer in charge looked at him with contempt before nodding for him to be removed. Then he turned toward Francis and Captain Merryvale, not seeing Alison on the bed.

‘Identify yourselves, gentlemen,' he commanded.

Francis bowed low. ‘Francis, Lord Buckingham.'

Captain Merryvale bowed as well and gave his name.

The officer's eyes cleared. ‘Lord Buckingham? Ah, how very
fortunate
that I should find you like this, for my orders are that as soon as Prince Naryshky has been arrested, I am to call upon you at English Quay to tell you that his imperial majesty is very grateful and
appreciative
of the great service you and Miss Clearwell have done him and Russia, and he wishes you both to call upon him at the Winter Palace at midday.'

Francis inclined his head. ‘I am more than pleased to obey such a command, sir, but I doubt very much if Miss Clearwell will be able to do the same.' So saying, he went to the bed again, sitting on the edge of it and taking Alison's hand.

The officer stared toward her and then looked at Captain Merryvale. ‘Naryshky did this?' he asked.

The captain nodded.

‘Now he will pay more dearly than ever, for she is now greatly in
favor with both Czar Alexander and Countess Irina. Please tell Lord Buckingham that I will place a boat at his disposal, and the moment he feels Miss Clearwell is sufficiently recovered to go ashore, you will all be conveyed back to English Quay.' The officer hesitated. ‘Russia is very grateful to you all, Captain, and your efforts will not go
unrewarded
, you may be sure of that.'

Captain Merryvale withdrew from the cabin with the officer, and Francis was left alone with Alison. He drew her hand to his lips. ‘Alison?'

Slowly she turned her head, meeting his eyes.

‘It's over now,' he said gently. ‘Naryshky is under arrest—'

‘I took the documents, Francis,' she interrupted, trying to sit up. ‘I took them when you were asleep and I went to her. I know I took a great risk.'

‘You did well, Alison, for the countess must have given the wallet to the czar.'

‘But if it had gone wrong …'

‘It didn't, did it?' He smiled. ‘I think your judgment was better than mine in this instance, Alison, for by doing what you did, you
accomplished
everything at a stroke.'

‘How did you know I was here?'

‘I was looking at the
Irina
through your uncle's telescope, and I saw you looking out of the window.' His gaze moved over her bruised, tearstained face. ‘My poor darling, you've suffered so very much, haven't you?' he said softly.

The words of endearment brought her no comfort, for she could remember how he had whispered Pamela's name in his sleep. What he felt for her now was pity, no more and no less.

‘Do you feel able to go back to the house?' he asked.

She nodded. ‘Yes, I think so.'

‘Let me help you up.' He rose to his feet and assisted her to put on his coat, to hide the savage tears in her gown, but as she stood, the room began to swim and everything faded into darkness. Her legs wouldn't support her and she would have fallen if he hadn't caught her. Without a second thought he lifted her into his arms and carried her from the room.

The deck was a scene of confusion. Khan had been eventually
caught, lured by a cold roast chicken from the galley, and the crew was still confined in the hold, having been unable to break open the door when they had heard the czar's men arrive. The black man still hadn't come around from the blow Francis had given him; he lay on the deck where he had been dragged. His hands and feet were bound, and he would soon be carried down to one of the many boats that now lay alongside the
Irina
. Of the dwarf there was no sign at all, for he alone appeared to have escaped.

Assisted by Captain Merryvale, Francis carried Alison down to the boat that had been put at their disposal, and within a few minutes they were being rowed ashore through mist that was beginning to thin fast as the morning sun rose higher in the sky.

As the boat reached the jetty, Francis immediately stepped out with Alison, who hadn't come around. Followed by Captain Merryvale, he went swiftly up the steps to the street and then across to the house, where Mr Clearwell, Natalia, Mackay, and several other servants were waiting anxiously beneath the portico.

Mackay was immediately dispatched to bring the doctor, and Francis carried Alison to the couch in the entrance hall, laying her gently down by the fire. Natalia was distraught, sending a footman to bring Katya immediately and then ordering another to see that the fire in Alison's bedroom was properly stoked.

Francis was hardly aware of what was happening around him; his attention was fully upon Alison's ashen face. He pushed her hair away from her forehead, his fingers lingering on the bruise left by the carriage door. Then he took her limp hand, raising it softly to his lips and kissing the palm.

An hour later, Alison came around, to find herself in her bed. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Katya was hovering anxiously by the bedside.

‘Miss Clearwell? Oh, Miss Clearwell, you're awake again.' Without waiting for her reply, the maid hurried from the room.

Alison stared up at the canopy of the bed. She had been dreaming, and the dream still clung to her. She had been about to give her marriage vows and Francis's ring was just going to be slipped on her finger. She wore a gown of white satin and silver tissue, and there was
a wreath of roses in her hair. But then Francis tilted her face toward his, his eyes cool and distant. He told her he would never love her, that she would always be second best to his love for Pamela, but that he would try not to make her unhappy. His voice sounded hollow, and there wasn't any warmth or even affection in his eyes. She turned to run from him, the vows unsaid. Captain Merryvale had been
waiting
to take her away from St Petersburg. Then she had awakened.

Now she lay there thinking about the dream. It was telling her that everything was over now, and she could indeed go back to England with Captain Merryvale if she wished. There would be gossip – Mrs Fairfax-Gunn would see to that – but maybe it would be possible to explain the truth to Pamela. Pamela was the one Francis should marry, and if she, Alison, could put things right, maybe there would still be a marriage between the Duke of Marchington's daughter and Lord Buckingham.

The bedroom door opened suddenly and Natalia hurried in, followed by Alison's uncle. Natalia bent quickly to kiss Alison's pale cheek. ‘Oh, my dear, my dear, I feel so very ashamed that I was so worried about my father that I couldn't see how worried you were too. To think that you and Lord Buckingham were on such secret business. But now it's all going to be all right; the prince has been arrested and his lordship is going to ask the czar to give the estate at Novgorod to my father.' Natalia blinked back tears and smiled a little ruefully. ‘Forgive me again, but I cannot believe that all these weeks of worry are over at all, and it's all thanks to you.'