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The clapping sound of hooves echoed from outside, and a minute later the door to the cottage opened. She could feel his searing gaze, but she did not turn around.
“Leave us and return to the estate,” Mikhail said flatly.
She turned to see to whom he spoke and espied Vladimir poised in the doorway of the cottage behind him.
Mikhail moved toward her with purposeful strides.
“Stay where you are,” she said hoarsely.
He stopped, regret darkening his eyes. “Payton, I—”
“What is all this?” She lifted the book and pointed to the cleaned room with its fresh curtains and bedsheets.
“I had planned for us to speak here.”
Though she knew, she needed to hear it from his lips. “You are titled?”
He schooled his features into a neutral mask, but she could see the guilt in his eyes.
“Yes.”
She clenched her hands over the book to prevent their obvious shaking. “You are a prince, a duke, and not a man of affairs or an advisor to Calydon?”
“Payton, I—”
“Answer me!” Her voice came out like a snarl, ferocious enough that he halted the movement of reaching for her.
He flicked a glance to Vladimir, positioned near the entrance of the cottage, pretending he was not listening with rapt interest. With a bow, he gracefully exited and closed the door with a soft snick. The deference shown to Mikhail only served to incense her further.
“You are a prince, and you are engaged to wed a princess.” And Payton had almost given him her virtue like a wanton harlot. The clenching pain around her heart was unbearable.
“I am not engaged. Princess Tatiana tried to compromise me into marrying her, and I refused.”
She remembered the implication of the princess patting her stomach. “But she is with child.”
He stepped closer, and she backed away.
“Her child is not mine, and I have no intention of marrying Princess Tatiana.”
Payton was angry at the surge of relief pulsing in her veins. “You told my family of your background, knowing they would pressure me into such an elevated union.”
He closed his eyes. “Payton, I—”
“Is your name even Mikhail?”
His jaw visibly clenched. “I am Prince Alexander Mikhail Konstantinovich Dashkova, the Count of Montgomery, and the Duke of Avondale.”
Payton’s heart pounded. “Why did you lie to me?”
“My reasons for wanting anonymity had nothing to do with you.” There was a wealth of pain in his voice that tugged at her heart.
“It was my intention to remain from the prying eyes of society for several months. I simply wanted peace, and I then met you. I…I did not hate the thought of you touching me, and I was not sure what I felt, so I decided to take the time to know you. No woman has ever looked at me and not seen the privileged life I could give her. When we met, Payton, I could see the attraction in your eyes, and you felt this without knowing if I had a farthing to my name. I realized I could pursue you simply as a man and not a prince, a duke, who the haute monde was already clamoring to meet, and I acted on the desire. I never meant to hurt you.”
And I wanted you because you had no expectation of me to behave in a ladylike fashion. “From what did you want peace?”
“Society,” he said flatly. “Scandals, gossips, young ladies doing all in their power to compromise me.”
“Thank you for being honest. I will implore you to leave this cottage.”
He flinched. “Did you want me when you believed I was an ordinary man?”
Yes. Her throat closed on the answer.
“Tell me you didn’t want me then, and I will leave you alone,” he said with shivering intensity.
Payton swallowed, her heart jerking as he started to shrug from his jacket. Good Heavens. “Mikhail, I—”
“Answer me,” his voice lashed at her.
Emotions clogged her throat. “I wanted you…and I wanted to marry you.” She pushed the painful admission past her throat.
“I am the same man, Payton.”
How could he believe so? The man standing before her now, although he was dressed casually, had power rolling off him. Penetrating, cool blue eyes stared at her. The change should have been subtle, but the imperious bearing screamed. All the hopes and dreams she had harbored about them in the dark corners of her heart had been smashed into thousands of pieces.
“Maybe,” she whispered. “But I have no doubt you would eventually be dissatisfied with your choice.”
“An impossibility that is so ludicrous it does not bear discussion. I could never be unhappy with you; you are genuine, a breath of fresh air I want to inhale and keep trapped in my lungs. People always behave differently when they know who I am. All they can see is the title and the wealth. Not me, Payton. They never see me. You did.”
What about my touch, Mikhail? You said you did not hate my touch, but I still cannot hold you.
He reached for her, and she jerked away. “Your sentiments only drive home your ridiculous reason for deceiving me.”
“I…” He thrust his fingers through his hair, and a look of frustration crossed his face. “Do you love me?”
Yes. “What does that matter?”
“I esteem you more than any woman I have ever known.”
Not love. Would it have mattered if he spoke of tender feelings? Payton glared at him, unable to credit what she was hearing. “You have insulted me in the worst possible manner, and yet you stand here telling me I should believe that you esteem me?”
His mouth flattened with impatience. “How have I insulted you?”
Temper lit in her veins. “You have touched me, kissed me—” Her voice broke, and she took seconds to rein in her emotions. “You did not trust me with your identity, because you believed me to be the kind of woman to be incapable of holding affection only for you, because you are a prince and a duke. You believed this from our very first meeting. I could understand hiding your titles that first day in the cottage, but you made no effort to confide in me in the days after we met. It is a wonder you want to marry me, when you think so little of my character. You made me believe there was a chance of an ordinary life with you. You made me yearn for your kisses, hunger for your touch, dream of having a son with your eyes, a daughter with your smile, knowing you would never be able to give me the life I desire…a life you were fully aware I craved. This only reveals to me you care so little for the things I desire for my life.”
He flinched, and an emotion akin to despair flashed in the depth of his eyes. “Give me a chance to make amends. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I swear I will do all in my power to give you the life you crave. I have enough wealth so you can live how you please, do whatever you desire.”
Was such a thing possible with him? Her heart wavered, and she snapped her spine straight. A few pretty words would not make her resolve change. “No.”
A ruthless determination settled on his face. “Is there the possibility you can love me?”
I fear I already do. She shook her head in confusion. “What do you want from me?”
“Marry me, be my princess, my duchess, and I swear you will never want for anything.”
Pain twisted in her heart. He was a prince, a duke; he would rub shoulders with the highest of the haute monde. She would never fit into his world. She wanted to scream at him. Everything had been so perfect when he had been common. “I am not polished enough to be your princess or your duchess. You will be called to court and Parliament, be expected to host balls and political meetings, and I cannot envision such a life for myself.”
His eyes were steady on Payton; her carefully constructed mask of indifference was on the verge of crumbling.
“Then simply be my wife…my lover, and my friend.”
