guard you there.”
“Oh.” She seemed almost disappointed, but he must have been mistaken. She was probably regretting she ever let a rogue like him anywhere near her royal personage.
Of course she’d refused him. He wasn’t good enough for her. He hadn’t been good enough for the likes of Julia Cowes a decade ago, and even though he’d made a fortune and gained a title on his own merit since then, he was still no fit mate for a bloody princess.
She needed to go and marry some charming European aristocrat—one with a spotless reputation who didn’t go around propositioning strangers in brothels and getting into fistfights—and end up as queen of some balmy Mediterranean principality.
Seb drummed his fingers on the leather desktop, imagining and discarding ways out of the ridiculous situation. “If Petrov thinks you have incriminating documents, perhaps we take can advantage of that. We can set a trap for him.”
“How?”
“We’ll force his hand. He’ll get desperate and make a mistake—he’ll try to get to you, or try to get the evidence back. And when he does, we’ll be ready.”
“I don’t want to meet him. Either in a ballroom or a back alley. He’s dangerous.”
Seb narrowed his eyes. “Do you think I’m not?”
She had the grace to flush and look away, and he nodded, mollified. “I protect what’s mine.”
She gave him that haughty look he’d come to detest. “I’m not yours, Lord Mowbray.”
“Yes, Princess.” He drawled the title like an insult, a deliberate bastardization of the term of endearment. “For now, you are.”
He lifted his brows, just daring her to argue, but she wisely held her tongue. He cast what he hoped was a scathing glance at her boy’s attire. The sight of her slim legs and the hint of her breasts beneath the fabric made him want to throw her over his shoulder, carry her upstairs, and lose himself inside of her, princess or not.
Damn her.
“I’ll have Mickey bring you a valise. Pack your things. We’ll leave for Dorothea’s house in thirty minutes.”
“Isn’t she’s still in the country?”
“No. She returned to Grosvenor Square last night. She sent me a note.”
Chapter 28.
The dowager duchess took one look at Anya’s stony face and turned to Seb. “I do hope you’ve been treating Miss Brown with the utmost care and respect, Sebastien?”
Seb sent her a dry glance as he removed his gloves. “You can dispense with the charade, Dorothea. I know exactly who she is.”
“You do? Oh, well, that makes everything so much easier, doesn’t it?”
“Does it? I’m rather of the opinion it makes everything that much worse.”
She frowned. “I see. You’re in one of those moods, are you? Not that I’m not delighted to see you both, but what are you doing here? Has the odious Petrov left town?”
“He has not. But it’s no longer practical for the princess to be at the Tricorn. From now on, she’ll be staying here.”
“But what about the danger to her?”
“I will arrange for armed guards from Bow Street. In in ten days’ time, you will host a ball to present the newly discovered Princess Denisova to polite society.”
The dowager raised her thin brows in an expression remarkably like Anya’s. “Only ten days, Sebastien? Are you mad?”
“I have every faith that you can accomplish it. You will invite the whole world, and they will come.”
“And Petrov?”
“Invite him too. And you must hint that there’s a mystery surrounding the princess. That will get people talking.”
Anya finally spoke. “To what purpose?”
Seb glanced at her and his chest tightened. She’d changed into one of the morning gowns he’d bought for her, a pale sage green that clung to her figure and made her look like some woodland sprite or naiad. He could hardly bear to look at her. Already she seemed different, more self-possessed, more unapproachable, as if an invisible shield had formed between them. An image of her, pink and tipsy in front of the fire, assailed him, but he tamped it down. There would be no more evenings like that.
“Petrov will start to sweat, wondering what we have on him and whether we’re about to expose him in public.”
“And will you?” Dorothea asked.
“If my guess is correct, it won’t come to that.” Seb inclined his head at the two women. “I’ll leave you to work out the details. I’m off to Bow Street to see about someone to watch over you both. Don’t leave the house until they get here.”
Anya looked as if she would protest, but in the end, she said nothing at all, so