The Perfect Scandal (23 page)

Zosia felt as if the man were holding up her beating heart and slowly squeezing it. How could she gamble away her own happiness and Moreland's for
something that held no guarantee? “What sort of rights would you be willing to negotiate? And how would they be guaranteed?”

The Emperor shrugged. “You and I will discuss that after you become Grand Duchess. Prior to that, there is nothing to discuss.”

Oh, God. Oh, dear God. How could she—

She leaned forward, attempting to soften her tone. “I would be more than willing to become Grand Duchess and take my place in this court. But only if I am permitted to marry a man of my choosing. Otherwise, Uncle, I would be sacrificing what matters most to me. My heart.”

He leveled her with a cool stare. “I care nothing about the sacrifices you must make. As Emperor, I make sacrifices all the time. That is what a leader must do. And that is what you must do.”

Her breath burned against her own throat.

He set his elbows on the armrests and folded his hands together, holding them below his chin. “Are we done, Niece? It is late and I wish to retire.”

Trying to keep her voice steady and calm, she confided, “If there is one thing you can do, which I know will appease the people and keep them from revolt, it would be to cease the tyranny you impose upon civilians. No one understands the extent of that tyranny more than I. I lost my leg after Russian
soldiers burned down a home they had no right to burn.”

He grunted. “You are fortunate it was only a leg.”

Zosia kept herself from jumping forward and smacking him. Instead, she drew in a calming breath, allowing her features to soften, and offered in a tone that was neither condemning or loving, “I beseech you, Uncle, upon whatever goodness you have, to consider giving Poles, who are
Catholic,
an opportunity to exist on their own land apart from your
Greek
empire. There are too many differences between your people and mine and it creates nothing but perpetual discontent. If you do not wish to offer them freedom, at the very least allow them to retain their dignity and their basic rights. Allow them to live by the constitution that was set by the Congress of Vienna. It is a worthy constitution every Pole will uphold, yet it is being violated at every turn.”

“I would sooner reduce Poland to a province than enforce a constitution that should have never been created to begin with.” He rose to his imposing height of well over six feet. “I know a revolt is coming,
Velikaya Knyazha
. You are but a petal upon its impending bloom. That is why I need you. If you care for your people at all, you will lead them by taking your place as Grand Duchess and warn them that their thorns will be crushed by the gauntlet covering
my hand if they choose to revolt. You will become my voice, and in turn, we will both earn respect.”

She gasped. “If I were to become Grand Duchess, I would never submit to being
your
voice. I would only submit to being a voice for my people.”

“Enough!” He stared her down, his mouth tight and grim. “For however long you are here, and as long as you choose to deny your duty, you will show your uncle respect by speaking no more of what you will and will not submit to. If you decide to unroll that tongue of yours in defiance even once in my presence or to anyone in this court, you will disappear into Siberia
permanently
. And no one, not even the mighty good George of England, will know of it until you are dead. Do we understand each other?”

Zosia rose upon her one foot, unwilling to sit this one out. Though her sole limb quaked, she kept herself balanced and steady and strong and whispered hatefully up at him, “If you can terrorize, intimidate and condemn your own niece to death to better serve your own vile purpose, there is no hope for any Pole beneath your rule. Is there?”

He pointed down at her. “Exactly.
Now
we understand each other.” He smiled, enthusiastically patting her cheek, and turned, sweeping toward the door.

Hussar glanced toward her with wary eyes, as if announcing in dog language that Zosia had best respect the master, before scampering out after him.

The Emperor paused. He turned, gesturing toward her. “I will have Maksim personally escort you to your suite. Maybe you and he can reach an amorous understanding that will benefit us all. Yes? It was a pleasure, Niece. Good night.” He disappeared, his steps echoing down the corridor.

Zosia collapsed onto the chair behind her, squeezing her eyes shut, and pressed the tips of her quivering fingers to her temples, which were beginning to pinch, ache and throb. She should have never come. She should have never thought it was possible to forge an alliance with a man who took great pride in ruthlessly crushing anyone who opposed his way of thinking.

For an opportunity to lead her people, without a guarantee anything would come of it, she would have to give up everything. Including Moreland. She would have to give up the father of her babe before it even made her belly large. What if she sacrificed him and their happiness only to find herself left with nothing, not even the respect of her own people? It was not something she was prepared to do.

She choked on a sob, tears pushing their way through her closed lids. It was horrid knowing that she, Zosia Urszula Kwiatkowska, was a coward and a failure. She had never thought of herself as a coward and a failure. Until now. Until faced with the reality
that she was never meant to be a leader or a voice. Another choked sob escaped her.

“Velikaya Knyazha?”
a low, male voice softly inquired.

Startled, she dropped her hands from her temples and glanced up at Maksim, who lingered before her. She sniffed and swiped away tears, trying to calm herself. “Forgive me.”

Maksim leaned toward her, his brow pinching in concern. “It did not go as well as you had hoped. Did it?”

She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “No.”

He sighed. “We are all but pawns until we are made King. That is the way of this world. Come.” He leaned closer and slid a bare hand beneath her thighs and curved his other hand around her waist. “You have endured enough. It is time you retire.”

She slid her arms around his shoulders, latching on to his warmth and allowed herself to be carried out of the study and through endless, vast corridors that turned and turned and turned.

Eventually, they arrived at a suite of chambers.

How she prayed Maksim held no expectations.

He veered through an open doorway leading into an ornate, enormous bedchamber. The embellished ceilings were upheld not by columns but massive, Greek caryatids. Each female figure was positioned
differently, all frozen and forever cursed to never move or speak.

Zosia blinked up at the stoic gazes and large stone faces, her hold on Maksim instinctively tightening, wondering how she was ever going to sleep surrounded by such imposing monstrosities. Was it not unnerving enough being sentenced to sleep for months on end beneath the same roof as her uncle?

Maksim casually carried her past the bed, taking her into what appeared to be an adjoining library. She glanced up at him. “Where are we going?”

“You will see.” He paused before a large bookcase. He lowered her onto her slippered foot, ensuring she was well balanced, and then removed a book from the shelf, setting it aside. Reaching into the space, he took hold of a hidden doorknob and drew back the entire bookcase, revealing a narrow staircase lit by a single gold lantern.

Her eyes widened as she hopped forward and peered down the carpeted stairs descended into what appeared to be a room that disappeared into heaven knew where.

Maksim smiled and held out his hand. “The Emperor insisted I show you. It belonged to your grandmother. It is where she escaped from the pressure of her duties and reveled in being human. It is timely and yours to revel in for however long you remain here with us.”

Zosia eyed that large, outstretched hand and the candles that lit the hidden realm. She shook her head. Though Maksim had proven to be a gentleman throughout their entire journey, she was now in his realm and the Emperor's, and refused to trust either of them. “I will see it at another time. I wish to retire.”

He gestured toward the opening. “This is where your quarters will be,
Velikaya Knyazha.
”

She gasped. “Behind a bookshelf? I think not.” She waved toward the adjoining bedchamber beyond the library, teetering for a moment. “I would rather sleep in that bed with all those women.”

Maksim laughed, his smooth cheek dimpling. “That sounded far more exciting than I am certain you intended.” He shook his dark head and leaned toward her. Meeting her gaze, he pointed toward his eyes. “Trust.” His low, accented voice held a challenge. “You will be rewarded for setting aside your prejudice, which you are only basing upon what you
see
and not upon what you
know
. Yes?”

Her heart pounded at receiving such an endearing fleck of wisdom. With a trust she hoped she would not come to regret, she grasped his large, warm hand and allowed him to guide her both by hand and waist, hop by hop, down all thirty steps. The scent of oiled jasmine lingered in the cool air.

Zosia drew in a breath at finding a massive suite
encased in expansive mirrors, both on the walls and ceiling alike, reflecting prisms of candlelight in lush, soft brilliance. A wide burgundy-colored, embroidered couch that stretched and rounded like a bed was laden with plush pillows and coverlets, allowing for both lounging and sleeping. With an exotic flare, colorful paper lanterns, pagodas, sculpted griffins and dragons adorned the room, which appeared to connect to two other sweeping apartments beyond. It was…incredible.

Her grandmother, Empress
la Grande,
had once breezed through these same rooms. Given the woman's notorious reputation, she had no doubt her grandmother had more than just breezed through them. She'd probably entertained countless lovers in this domain, watching them writhe within those reflections beneath her rule.

Maksim rounded her and lingered, drawing close. He eyed her intently, as if wanting to do or say something.

She swallowed, uncomfortable with the way he continued to observe her. “Do not look upon me so intimately.”

“You misunderstand.”

“Do I?”

“I seek to be your friend.”

“I certainly hope those are your intentions, Maksim, because my situation is already complicated
enough without you insisting upon
your
needs now being met.”

He sighed, as if he were already exhausted listening to her reasons of resistance. “Please. Allow me to advise you.”

“Advise me? Advise me on what? That I should convert and marry you? That I should become Grand Duchess because millions of people are depending on me? Including you, who have given up opportunities for a chance that I am denying you?” Her voice rose steadily louder and louder and angrier and angrier. “Or perhaps you wish to advise me on how I should toss aside my happiness and my entire life without any guarantee any good will come of it at all? All for an Emperor as deranged as the devil himself? Is that what you should advise me on?”

He
tsk
ed. Then
tsk
ed again. Shaking his head, he leaned in and lowered his voice. “I am not like the Emperor. Do not treat me as such. The Emperor has great expectations, yes, and he will use those expectations to create opportunities for himself. I advise you not to give him opportunities. That is my advice.”

She swallowed. “What should I do?”

“You must write and inform your British boy to come and protect your honor. You must do it before your belly betrays you and the Emperor thinks it is my doing. Even if the Emperor were to believe otherwise, he will force you and I to wed as a means of
ensuring you become Grand Duchess. I know him. He will use your scandal against you.”

She gawked up at him, her cheeks burning, and placed a protective hand against her stomach. “How did you…know? My belly has yet to show.”

A flirtatious smile ruffled his lips. “I have eight sisters, two of whom strayed. It was obvious what had already occurred between you and Lord Moreland, despite him valiantly protecting your honor before my soldiers. I became concerned about your constant illness and demanded your lady's maid confirm whether you had had your menses throughout our journey. She informed me that you had not.”

She winced, wanting to altogether faint from embarrassment.

He smiled and tapped her cheek with a finger. “Worry not. I will protect you and your secret,
Velikaya Knyazha
. Until he arrives and can oversee your honor himself.”

She lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”

“He will come if you write. Yes?”

“Yes. I know he will.” Oh, how she prayed Moreland would come. Before she was forced onto a path she wouldn't be able to escape.

“Come.” Maksim scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the round, oversized couch. Setting her on the plush cushions, he slid his length beside her and propped himself up on an elbow,
extending his long, booted legs. “Ah. What would you like to do with Maksim tonight? I am yours to do with as you please.”

She scrambled up and scooted away from him to the edge of the couch. “I would like to retire.
Without
Maksim.”

He chuckled. “Did you know that Russians are far better lovers than the British will ever be? I am willing to prove it if you let me.”

Her eyes widened as she whipped a finger toward the stairwell. “I do not find you amusing! Leave.”

Merriment flickered in his green eyes as he playfully clicked his tongue. “While you wait for your British boy to arrive, I can entertain you. He does not need to know and we will not have to worry about a mishap that is already his.”

She gasped, grabbed up a pillow and bounced it off his head, wishing the pillow were made of concrete. “You vile—”