The Royal Conquest(51)
“Please do not, Your Grace,” she said formally, and Jocelyn winced. “I am leaving Sherring Cross.”
The princess shifted even closer, and Payton wanted to smack the sneer from her face, but suppressed the desire with a will she’d not thought herself capable.
“I believe that is the smart decision, darling. Prince Alexander and I have known each other for years.” The princess then rested her hands against her stomach and rubbed in a gentle motion. “There are very compelling reasons he will not be able to marry anyone but me.”
Her aunt gasped, and a smug smile appeared on the princess’s lips.
“It is very fortunate Vladimir wrote and informed me of Mikhail’s fascination with you,” Princess Tatiana spat, contempt twisting her features. “Please inform her of what you told me, Vladimir.”
He stepped forward, a distinct look of discomfort creasing his handsome face. “Prince Mikhail loves Princess Tatiana, and…and he was merely seeking a distraction with you.”
Payton flinched, and the duchess gasped.
Princess Tatiana gave her another sneering smile. “Did you even believe for a second he truly wanted you, a common peasant?”
The room exploded into conversation with the duchess ordering them to be polite or leave her home, her aunt insisting Mikhail would wed her, and the princess hurling insults at Payton.
Payton walked away. Within a few seconds she was outside. She curled her hands into tight fists, desperate to stop their shaking.
Why had he lied? She remembered his words from the picnic: And what would be your opinion of me, if I confessed to possessing several titles and I am far wealthier than most lords you know?
She closed her eyes against the memory and the tense way he’d waited for her reply. She had bared her emotions and hurt to him, and he’d still not trusted her. He’d even chosen to inform her father first, no doubt hoping for them to pressure her. The frigid air slapped at her skin, but she was numb to it. Cold rage blossomed in her heart. Once again she had been duped. But this time…this time she had believed. Every uttered lie and sweet false promise of passion and happiness she had welcomed.
How utterly foolish of her.
Mikhail’s heart jerked from his chest and lodged in his throat at the tense scene that greeted him in the parlor. He closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face, but Princess Tatiana and her brother were still there when he opened his lids.
He’d strolled from the west wing and made his way to the stables with the intention of riding to the cottage to meet Payton. He’d met her father in London, and Mr. Peppiwell had been very eager to accept Mikhail’s proposition to court Payton incognito. Of course the man had only relented after they had drawn up an agreement. Not that Mikhail minded. He was determined to wed Payton. He’d not lingered in London, eager to start his conquest. He’d not been at the ball for long before the vile whispers had started about them. The blast of rage that had filled him had almost made him roar. He’d sought her out and, seeing the torment in her eyes at society’s veiled whispers, he’d decided he could not hide his identity and woo her, not when she would suffer until he revealed himself.
The sight of the Arabian horses and Prince Krill’s valet in the stables had made Mikhail falter, and the careful speech he had planned explaining his stupidity vanished. He rushed inside to the parlor and shook his head in disbelief when his eyes landed on the immaculately put-together Princess Tatiana Ivanovna.
He allowed his gaze to sweep the room, assessing the rage on the duchess’s face, the petulant frown on Princess Tatiana, Vladimir’s guilt, and Prince Krill’s anger. Yet the only thing that mattered was that Payton was not there when she must have been earlier.
“Where is Payton?” He kept his voice low and calm, lest he betrayed the anger slowly twisting in his gut.
From the tenseness seething in the room, he could imagine what had taken place.
“She fled in tears,” Jocelyn said tersely.
Regret sat like a stone in his stomach.
“Why are you here?” he asked, shifting his attention to the princess.
She sent a swift glance toward the duchess.
“Did you offer Payton the courtesy of speaking with her in private…when you flayed her with your words? Why should you be given such favor, when you denied it to her?”
Princess Tatiana turned softened eyes to him. “You judge me without hearing what I have to say?”
“Your satisfied sneer speaks for itself.”
She strolled over to him and lifted a hand to touch his face. Revulsion tore through Mikhail, and he jerked from her caress. Impatience bit at him. “Speak as to why you are here.”