Chapter 9 #2
Excitement welled up in Anne’s heart, but not because of his latter words. “You really think he will confirm you?”
Her voice had been a whisper, but Maxim had caught every word. “Why else would he want to see me?”
His whole demeanour had changed; the relaxed nature from his story to Meredith had gone and his body was taut with excitement.
And then he deflated. “I had hoped to spend the rest of the morning with you. You do not mind, Annika, if I leave you now?”
“I would not dare attempt to stop you,” she said with a smile. “Please go, and take all my luck with you.”
Maxim grinned, and impulsively kissed her on the lips, even as they stood there in the grounds of St. James’ Court. And then he was gone.
Anne put her hand to her lips. There was still heat there, so strong it was as though she had been branded by his love, as though no one else would ever be able to make her feel this way, now that they have shared what they have shared.
And was that not true? After all they had experienced, after all they had been to each other, there was nothing she wanted more than to spend her life with him.
She loved him. She may not have spoken the words aloud, but he understood, surely – and he cared, perhaps even loved her.
Anne shivered. With no other companions, the open wintery air did nothing but chill her. It took only ten minutes to reach her rooms, throwing off her coat and sinking into a chair gratefully by the fire. The whole day was ahead of her, and she had naught to fill it with but a good book.
One of her favourite novels had been beside the chair, but it had gone. Anne smiled. It looked like Meredith had a similar taste.
She sighed, stretching out her legs and enjoying the comfort of the chair. When she had been a child, near Meredith’s age now, she had thought being at Court would be balls and excitement every waking moment.
Now she was older, she knew the truth: most of it was waiting around for Prinny to decide what he wanted to do!
Without her book, Anne picked up her father’s discarded paper. At least it could entertain her for an hour or two. Her fingers flicked through the pages, not looking for anything in particular, but her attention was caught by a name that was familiar.
Alexei Dmitry Immanuil Maximilian Konstantinvich.
Anne folded the newspaper and read the sentence, but it did not seem to make sense. The paragraph did not make sense either, and after struggling to understand what it meant, she sighed and moved her gaze to the top of the article.
Our editor has received reports once again that a certain gentleman, who goes by the name of Alexei Dmitry Immanuil Maximilian Konstantinvich, has been spotted at another pawnbrokers – in this case, purchasing a number of foreign looking medals.
Despite having no claim to them and likely no understanding of the great mockery he has put himself to by attempting to appear far more noble than he actually is, the gentleman in question has been spotted at St. James’ Court, no less, wearing the very medals purchased merely days before!
This editor hopes that Alexei Dmitry Immanuil Maximilian Konstantinvich has a few friends to whisper in his ear, and tell him of the dreadful ridicule he is experiencing across Society.
Anne swallowed, and read the paragraph again, but its meaning did not change.
Maxim bought those medals. He bought them from a pawnbroker. They were not even his medals.
Trying to ignore the frantic beating of her heart, she carefully folded the newspaper and put it down. Then she allowed the thoughts creeping at the back of her mind to come forward.
Was this editor perhaps jealous? Who would not want to be a prince, or king, or Czar?
Anne swallowed, her gaze falling to the blazing fire. An editor would not be permitted to print blatant lies in his newspaper, there would be an outcry. And when she really thought about it, how much did she know about Maxim?
Only what he told her.
Anne gripped the arms of the chair as she fought down the panic rising from her stomach. His name, his history, even his family – all of it could be lies. His name did sound a little ridiculous, now she thought about it without his intoxicating presence before her.
She had accused him, once, of being a confidence trickster. And what had he replied?
“What answer do you want? What do you want to be true?”
Maxim had said from the very beginning of their acquaintance that he had a secret. There was no proof to say that he was who he said he was. No servants, no friends, no supporters. Just her.
In a moment of irritation, Anne unfolded the paper and read the paragraph again.
This editor hopes that Alexei Dmitry Immanuil Maximilian Konstantinvich has a few friends to whisper in his ear, and tell him of the dreadful ridicule he is experiencing across Society.
How had this editor, whoever he was, known about this? Perhaps he had spoken to the pawnbroker. Why would a pawnbroker lie?
Her breathing slightly ragged, she put the newspaper down again. The newspaper would not lie, and so that could only mean…that Maxim had lied.
“Earned through battle, though I will not say who with for this is an English court with English sensibilities. Just pieces of metal, really.”
She had given her heart, her body, her soul to a gentleman who was a liar. Was he also a thief? Was he even Russian? He could be a bootmaker from Moscow, and she would have no idea.
Anne rose without conscious thought, desperate in her need to do something, understand it all. What better person to ask than Maxim himself?
She would have to face him at some point.
She had almost reached the door of her rooms when she hesitated. Maxim had been called to the presence of the Prince Regent, but that did not necessarily mean that Prinny had been ready to see him. Maxim could still have been waiting.
Anne bit her lip. Perhaps she would find something, something to confirm his identity…in his rooms.
Five minutes later, she was knocking gently on his bed chamber door. So certain had she been that he would still be with Prinny that she jumped when a voice inside spoke.
“Come in.”
Anne took a deep breath. This was the moment it could all fall apart.
Maxim looked surprised to see her when she opened the door. “Annika! I did not think I would see you again so soon. I am told that it is bad luck to see your bride the day before the wedding.”
Anne tried to keep her voice calm. “Maxim, I…I need to ask you something.”
“I know what you are going to ask, and I am sad to say, not yet,” Maxim said heavily.
She shut the door behind her with a puzzled expression. “Not…not yet?”
He shook his head, throwing himself into a chair. “No, Prinny is not willing to make a decision quite yet. I think I almost have him convinced, but it will take a little more time. He wants to hear about my adventure, how I managed to get here.”
Anne stepped into the room and found her voice was cold as she said, “I would like to hear that story, too.”
Maxim had opened his mouth to respond, but he hesitated. Evidently, something in her voice made him pause. “And I was always going to, Annika. I just have not found the time, yet.”
“And are you also going to tell me,” Anne said, not moving towards him because she knew her heart would melt and fall at his feet if she got any closer, “the story about why you decided to choose a false title for yourself?”
Maxim’s face fell, and then his brow furrowed. “False title?”
“Those medals you showed me,” said Anne, hating every word but knowing she had to speak. How could she marry a man tomorrow with all these lies between them? “They are not yours – I mean, they are yours now, but you did not inherit them, or earn them. You bought them, Maxim. You bought them.”
She had thought her words of accusation would provoke far more of a response, but he did not move. His brow remained furrowed, but he did not take his eyes from her.
When he finally spoke, it was in a low, hurt voice. “And where did you hear all this nonsense, Annika?”
“‘Tis not nonsense!” Anne could not help but raise her voice a little. “Maxim, or whatever your real name is – it is all in the paper! The newspaper tells the whole world that you bought those medals! You are a laughingstock and…and so would I have been, if I married you.”
“If?”
Anne swallowed. Only an hour ago, she had realised that this was the gentleman she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, but now she knew the truth about him. Perhaps it was time he learned the truth about her.
“No more secrets,” she said softly. “No more lies. If you still think that marriage tomorrow is a good idea, for both of us, then…then perhaps we can put this all behind us.”
“I do not have any secrets,” Maxim growled. “Not ones that matter.”
“But I do.” Anne could barely believe she had spoken the words, but this was not the time to hide the truth.
Perhaps, if she had just told him at the very beginning, they would never have continued this engagement of convenience, and she would never have given herself to him, fallen in love with him, only to have her heart broken again.
Maxim scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I do not think any ‘secret’ you tell me will be as shocking as the accusation you’ve just thrown at me!”
Anne swallowed. She still had the opportunity to disappear from this room, keep the truth to herself. But some part of her wanted to hurt him, hurt him as his lies had hurt her.
“Do you want to bet?” she said softly.
Maxim rolled his eyes. “Go on, then. If you think you can try to shock me, you are perfectly mista – ”
“Meredith is my daughter.”
Anne had not expected the words to be so difficult to say, but there was a ringing silence in the room after them.
Maxim rose to his feet. “Y-Your…”
She nodded. Well, she had come this far. “I was…seduced, I suppose you could say, when young. A soldier, passing through our town. My father has raised her as his own, and borne my disgrace with silence. Maxim, I was no innocent when you met me.”