The Royal Conquest(65)
Why would the driver detour without informing her? She gasped when a horse trotted alongside the equipage, and she identified Vladimir. She opened the window. “What are you doing? Please order the driver to stop at once.”
“Will you leave the carriage in the middle of nowhere?”
She glared at him. “What is the meaning of this?”
A slight smile quirked his lips. “I am being allowed to atone for my stupidity.”
“By kidnapping me?” For the most awful precious seconds she had thought it could have been Lord Jensen, and she would have to endure a similar fate as Phillipa had when a man who had been obsessed kidnapped her.
Relief pulsed inside, and then a thought occurred. “Are you planning to do away with me for Princess Tatiana?”
Shock flared wide in Vladimir’s eyes to be quickly replaced by amusement.
“No, Miss Peppiwell. Please be assured you have nothing to fear.”
“I am not sure how things are done in Russia, but kidnapping here is a punishable crime.”
The dratted man’s lips twitched.
“I am taking you to Kent at Prince Alexander’s command.”
Payton spluttered at the man’s gall. She slammed the window shut and tried to settle her thoughts. She rocked with the motion of the carriage with a steady sense of anticipation building inside her. Mikhail was being outrageous and so improper. A smile tugged at her lips. She did not want to even imagine the gossip there would be if this got out.
Payton was infuriated. Mikhail really had the temerity to have the bounder Vladimir kidnap her. Was he aware the depth of scandal it could cause if it were ever discovered?
Now, approximately two hours after she had left the ball in London, that he delivered her to one of the most glorious castles she had ever seen, did not detract from his outrageous action. The outriders had broken away from the carriage once the horses trotted into the driveway. Payton descended the carriage to be received by the servants awaiting her arrival.
She felt mystified. The head housekeeper, Mrs. Claxon, took charge in quick order, and introduced Payton to the line of staff, then ushered her inside before escorting her upstairs to the loveliest of chambers, where an elegant maid modestly curtsied, awaiting her orders.
Her cheeks burned. What must they be thinking? Only a woman of loose morals would be at the prince’s house at such a late hour, unaccompanied, yet they treated her with the utmost respect and kindness.
The chamber was decorated in antique gold and blue, with six soaring windows facing the rolling expanse of the green castle grounds. A Parisian chaise lounge upholstered in golden silk stood in the far corner, and one of the most exquisite writing desks Payton had ever seen sat under the windows. She indulged in a bath to remove the sweat and dust of travel and dressed in a matching blue jacket and skirt trimmed in silver, and a soft peach shirt with ruffled sleeves that had been laid out. Payton did not question how her valise had been delivered along with her to the castle.
It seemed he had planned this with great thoroughness.
She marched to the oak armoire and wrenched the door opened. She had several day dresses, riding habits, and even a few ball gowns organized inside.
Good heavens. Did he not plan to return her home?
She stiffened her shoulders and exited the chamber. The majestic beauty of the castle took Payton’s breath away. She toured the lower rooms, seeking Mikhail in the parlor or drawing room. They were decorated in ornate elegance; if the ceilings had not been so high, the mass of detail might have seemed fussy, but the proportions were splendid, and yet the castle seemed very lived-in and comfortable. The rooms were all decorated with elegant furniture in Italian marble and carved mahogany. The windows were covered with sweeping curtains in brocade velvet with the ducal shield displayed in gold braid on each of the tassel-festooned pelmets. The walls were hung with some of the most exquisite paintings she had ever seen. Payton doubted that even the British Museum held such great works of art. The chairs and sofas were upholstered in silk in muted shades of silver and blue in one room and in crimson and gold in the next.
Payton had never seen such a pleasing interior.
She searched for the library or an office, for she refused to believe he would bring her here and not be present. She came upon a room where a faint light shone beneath the door. She rapped on the door, and when no answer came, she opened it and entered.
It was a library. No—it was a world of fantasy and dreams where walls and walls of books rose in three stories of stunning splendor. It was the most magnificent library Payton had ever seen.
“This is so glorious,” she gasped, unable to credit her eyes.
“This is one of the reasons I brought you here.”