Compromised By The Prince’s Touch. Bronwyn Scott

than a little frightening. It took all her cool élan not to let him see it. He had never laid hands on her in such a fashion before and this glimpse of possessive violence made her uneasy. What made him think he could do so now? It was a disturbing insight into what relationship with such a man might be like and Klara was determined to put a stop to it.

      ‘Take your hands off me. The Prince and I rode in the park and we talked.’ All true, but slightly incomplete. There was that kiss, that glorious kiss with an erotic roughness behind it that was far different than the harshness the Duke was exhibiting here in the hall. She would combat the Duke’s physical boldness with a boldness of her own. ‘Jealousy does not become you, nor do you have any claim to such envy.’

      ‘Perhaps not yet. However, it cannot have escaped your notice that I aspire to have such a claim.’ He removed his hand and stepped back with a curt nod, his words causing an uneasiness in her stomach that rivalled the violence of his touch. ‘I’ll say goodnight, then, Klara.’ There had been no ‘forgive me’ or ‘I beg your pardon’. Simply ‘goodnight.’ Asking for forgiveness would imply he’d done something wrong, an impossibility to Amesbury’s arrogant mind.

      She breathed easier when the door was shut behind him. She’d never liked Amesbury. But until recently, she’d never disliked him either. She’d merely found him blandly neutral, a shuttered, arrogant man who held himself aloof from others by nature of his birth. Now, she’d had a glimpse behind those shutters and it had been quite frightening. Klara wrapped her arms about herself. He’d laid angry hands on her in her own home. Perhaps she was reading far too much into it. Men were by nature competitive creatures and Nikolay had provoked him, perhaps she had provoked him. She’d known the Duke watched her. She hadn’t been unaware of how she and Nikolay would have appeared to an outsider. Maybe she had even encouraged it. If one didn’t poke the sleeping dog, it wouldn’t bite you. Recklessness had its consequences, after all. But such reasoning didn’t dispel the shiver that took her when she thought of Amesbury’s hands on her. Nikolay wasn’t the only one with secrets.

      It came to her that perhaps her father had a secret, too. The Duke presumed a relationship between them that she felt certain she’d given him no cause to believe in. Had her father? Amid his treaties and plans of revolution, had he alluded to the potential of her hand in exchange for...something? She rapidly sorted through what she knew. Her father had increased the Duke’s wealth. What was he getting in exchange? Was she somehow part of that? She’d always known her father would seek an English marriage for her. She’d been groomed for it. But to the Duke? She hoped not.

      Her father strolled into the hall. ‘Have they all gone then?’ he asked. ‘Quite the night. You did well. Baklanov was taken with you, as he should be.’ Her father smiled. ‘My daughter is beautiful.’ Then his gaze turned serious. ‘Can you do it? Can you mine Baklanov’s secrets?’ He was asking her to betray Nikolay to a larger extent.