Prince Of Dreams (36 page)

By Lisa Kleypas

SECRETS OF A SUMMER NIGHT

AGAIN THE MAGIC • WORTH ANY PRICE

LADY SOPHIA’S LOVER • ONLY IN YOUR ARMS

ONLY WITH YOUR LOVE • WHEN STRANGERS MARRY

SUDDENLY YOU • WHERE DREAMS BEGIN

SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME

STRANGER IN MY ARMS • BECAUSE YOU’RE MINE

SOMEWHERE I’LL FIND YOU

PRINCE OF DREAMS • MIDNIGHT ANGEL

DREAMING OF YOU • THEN CAME YOU

And the Anthologies

WHERE’S MY HERO?

THREE WEDDINGS AND A KISS

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

PRINCE OF DREAMS. Copyright © 1995 by Lisa Kleypas. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of PerfectBound™.

PerfectBound™ and the PerfectBound™ logo are trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Microsoft Reader October 2004 ISBN 0-06-079199-3

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Table of Contents

PART I Strange, the way we met. In a drawing-room circle With its empty conversation,Almost furtively, not knowing one another,We guessed at our kinship.And we realized our souls' likeness Not by passionate words tumbling at random from our lips, But by mind answering mind,And the gleam of hidden thoughts.—KAROLINA PAVLOVA

PART I

One 1877 London “W AITING FOR SOMEONE?” A man's voice cut through the rustling quiet of the garden. The Russian accent was soft and guttural, falling pleasantly on Emma's ears. Turning with a wry smile, Emma watched as Prince Nikolas Angelovsky stepped out of the shadows.With his golden skin, his sun-streaked hair, and his unpredictable cruelty, Nikolas was more like a tiger than a human being. Emma had never seen such a perfect blend of beauty and menace in any other man. She knew from personal experience that there was good reason to fear him. But she was an expert at handling dangerous creatures. The only sure way to be hurt was to show her fear.Emma relaxed her spine and settled more comfortably on the stone bench, located in the most secluded section of the formal estate garden. “I'm certainly not waiting for you,” she replied briskly. “Why are you out here?”He smiled at that, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “I felt like taking a walk.”“I'll thank you to walk somewhere e

Two T ASIA WAS THE first to move. Carefully she pried the letter from Luke's hand and read in silence. Luke remained sitting with his head bent, all thoughts concealed.After finishing the letter, Tasia set it aside with a sound of disgust. “What melodramatic prattle,” she said flatly. “He's painted them as a pair of starcrossed lovers, with you cast as the villain, of course. Adam is leaving her ‘for the sake of honor’—and he blames you for keeping them apart.”Luke raised his face. He was pale, and his mouth was taut. “Who else is to blame but me?”“You did what you felt was best.”His wife's quick defense brought a warm gleam to his eyes, but then Luke shook his head wearily. “Emma was right. I should have allowed for the possibility that Milbank did love her, but—” He broke off and scowled. “You and I both know he's nothing but a parasite.”“I'm afraid it's clear to everyone except Emma.”“Should I have allowed him to court her when I knew he would hurt her? Christ, I don't know anything

Three I N THE MIDDLE of a busy intersection, a cart overloaded with bricks blocked the traffic from all directions. A battered old donkey, sharp-ribbed and swaybacked, strained wildly to pull the cart up a small hill. Its owner, a beefy little man with arms the size of ham hocks, was beating the donkey with a length of chain. The poor animal was bloody and crippled, its eyes rolling madly.In the manual Emma had just presented to the R.S.H.T.A., there was a list of procedures to follow. She should take down the names of the culprit and witnesses, the specifics of the crime, descriptions of the wounds…but at the sound of the donkey's miserable braying, all thoughts of procedure flew out of her head. A bolt of furious energy went through her, and she shoved her way through the crowd. “Stop it! Stop it now, or I'll kill you!”Startled by the blazing redheaded apparition, a few people scrambled hastily out of her way. The thick-necked man paused in his beating and glared up at her. “Mind you

Four E MMA AWOKE IN her own bed the next morning, dream-fogged and puzzled. Daylight streamed in through the parted drapes, until its growing brightness made her head ache. Her body was sore in unaccustomed places. The confusion lasted for a second more, and then memory came flooding back. “God…” she whispered, her heart beginning to pound. She felt sick and giddy and afraid. She could not have done those intimate things with Nikolas. It must have been a dream.But she remembered too many details…her desperate flight to Nikolas's home, his lovemaking, his marriage proposal…She had said yes. Emma swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Had Nikolas really meant to propose? Had she been crazy to accept? Fearfully she thought of ways to make it all disappear. She would tell Nikolas she had been drunk, that she hadn't known what she was doing or saying. She would beg him, if necessary, to keep last night a secret. What had possessed her to do something so irresponsible? She had lost her innocenc

PART II

Five N IKOLAS WAS DISTRACTED from his work by the sounds of shrieking outside the library window. He shot up from his desk, although Mr. Meadows and Mr. Bailey, a pair of estate agents he had been conferring with, remained in their chairs with bemused expressions on their faces. Reaching the window in three strides, Nikolas looked outside at the damp October landscape and went still.“Your Highness?” Meadows asked uneasily. “Has someone been injured?”Nikolas shook his head. “It's my wife,” he murmured. “Taking her daily exercise.” He watched with a faint smile as Emma, dressed in a white blouse, boots, and breeches, romped on the manicured lawn with her dog, Samson. Anyone who didn't know her might have been moved to suggest that the princess should be institutionalized. Emma chased the mongrel over flower beds and parterre hedges, her red hair flying in a tangled banner behind her back. In a flash, she whirled around and ran the other way, while the ungainly dog bounded after her.In th

Six H IS SON, HIS son…Nikolas didn't move as Stanislaus bustled the boy to the kitchen to be fed. He was dimly aware of Emma's questions, but he ignored her as he would a pestering fly. After the child was out of sight, Nikolas made his way back into the manor like a sleepwalker. He went to the library and braced his hands on the mahogany cabinet where liquor was kept. Dully he stared at his own distorted reflection in the silver tray on the cabinet.He had thought he would never have to see the child. From time to time he had actually managed to forget the boy's existence. To be confronted with him now, without warning, was a tremendous shock. But on top of that, to see resemblance between the child and his dead brother…Oh, God, Mikhail had looked exactly the same at that age: the rumpled black hair, the face of sullen and beguiling beauty, the luminous golden eyes. Nikolas fumbled for a glass and a decanter of brandy.He remembered the countless times in his childhood when he had found

PART III

Seven 1707 November, Moscow S OMEONE WAS SPEAKING in Russian. “Your Highness, it is time to leave now. Your Highness…?”The stranger was annoyingly persistent. Nikolas awakened slowly, groaning at the pounding in his head. The taste of wine was strong and sour in his mouth. Blinking painfully, he discovered that he was sitting at a tiled table, his head and arms resting on the hard surface.“You drank all through the night,” the man's voice scolded. “There is no time to shave your face, or even to change your clothes before the bride-choosing. Please, Prince Nikolai, you must wake up now.”“What are you talking about?” Nikolas muttered, groggy and perplexed. There was a comfortable and familiar scent in the air, not the sweet wool-and-starch smell of his English house, but one of birch wood and wax candles, and the citric tang of cranberries. It reminded him so strongly of home that he closed his eyes again and breathed deeply. Gradually he recalled what had happened…the argument with his

Eight T HANKS TO SIDAROV'S timely arrival, Nikolas was spared having to make conversation until he could gather his wits. He sat in the bath, his heart thumping hard while the servant shaved him expertly. Peter, in the meantime, strolled around delivering an energetic monologue to his captive audience.Nikolas was both appalled and fascinated. He had always admired Tsar Peter's accomplishments. He had read in his school books about Peter creating the powerful Russian navy, leading the country to victory in a twenty-year war with the Swedes, and building the magnificent city of St. Petersburg. It had taken a mixture of genius and savage will to do all that, and both qualities were evident in the man standing before him.The tsar spoke at length about the war, the over-confidence of Charles, the Swedish king, and the success of the recent Russian “scorched earth” policy. “The stubborn fools try to press onward through Poland, even though they can't supply their troops with food,” Peter sai

Nine A MONTH WENT by, the winter days passing for Nikolas in a dream. He had been given a new life, a chance to be someone else, and he slipped into the role with surprising ease. Qualities that had always been foreign to him, such as compassion, tolerance, generosity, now seemed to come easily. He envied no one, because at last he had everything he wanted. He was constantly busy, organizing meetings of the merchants in the marketplace posád, appointing more agents and stewards to manage the Angelovsky holdings, reluctantly sharing an occasional hard-drinking evening with Peter and the gentlemen of the court. Most of his time, however, was spent with Emelia.His wife enchanted him, with her high spirits and strength of will. They went on sleigh rides across frozen rivers, summoned musicians and actors to entertain at their estate, or passed hours in quiet companionship as Nikolas read aloud from a novel. They made love for hours, each experience seeming to transcend the last. Nikolas wa

PART IV

Ten 1877 London “NIKKI? NIKKI, OPEN your eyes.”He mumbled a protest, wanting to sink back into the comfortable darkness. But the voice, so anxious and impatient, pulled him out of the deep sleep. Frowning, he rubbed his eyes and opened them to narrow slits. He was stretched out on a bed, and his wife was seated on the edge of it.He was alive…and she was there, as vivid and beautiful as ever. “Emelia,” he breathed, struggling to sit up. Questions collided on his tongue, and he began to talk in a rush.“Not so quickly! Relax for a minute.” Emma leaned over and covered his lips with her fingers, looking at him oddly. “You're speaking in Russian. You know I barely understand a word of it.”He fell silent, bewildered, while he tried to think in English. “I thought I would never see you again,” he said finally, his voice hoarse.“I was beginning to have doubts myself,” Emma replied dryly. “At first I thought you might be shamming, until I splashed cold water on your face. When that didn't reviv

Eleven N IKOLAS COULDN'T BREATHE or think, his body frozen with a kind of fear he had never known before. The locking pin to the pen's opening had been pulled out, and Jake had lifted the latch to walk inside. The boy stood at one side of the enclosure, while the tiger crouched in the center. Manchu grumbled in confusion and annoyance as he watched the small creature intrude on his territory.Slowly Emma turned to look at Nikolas. Her face was pale, her eyebrows standing out in glowing red arcs. Her stiff lips twitched as if she wanted to say something, but she too seemed robbed of the power of speech.Emma's thoughts clicked at a speed a hundred times faster than usual. She forced the terror back and stared at the tiger, trying to assess his mood. She didn't like the intense focus Manchu maintained on the child. Such keenly patient attention could precede a sudden attack. His spray of white whiskers bristled as he approached the boy cautiously, one paw at a time. Although Manchu didn't

Twelve I N THE MORNING Stanislaus came to Emma while she was taking tea in her private sitting room.“Your Highness,” the butler said, and paused, as if wondering how to continue. His black brows were drawn together, and his mouth was tight.“What is it, Stanley? You have the strangest expression on your face.”He ignored her nickname for him. “Your Highness,” he answered, “I have discovered this on the front doorstep.” He held out the object in his hand.Emma set her teacup aside and stared at it in astonishment. It was the same bloodred rose that had been delivered to her yesterday. “Didn't you send it back?”“Yes, Your Highness, along with the pearls. Apparently the flower was left by itself this time.”She shook her head, staring at the slightly bedraggled blossom. “Whoever the giver is, he's remarkably persistent.”“Shall we tell Prince Nikolas?”Emma thought for a moment. She was certain the rose had come from Adam. Mischief-making, probably. He would be glad to provoke Nikolas, and caus

Epilogue