Chapter 5 #2
“I thought you would like it,” he said, a little hoarsely. Pulling Thunder close and steadying him, he reached out and brought the cloak around her, fastening it with fumbling fingers.
“Thank you,” Anne breathed. The moment was taut with restraint, and she looked a little uncomfortable as she said, “but…I do not have a gift for you.”
Maxim chuckled. “We Russians celebrate Christmas completely differently to you English, anyway, so I would not worry. We celebrate much later, January the seventh.”
He pulled away, conscious that if he stayed much closer, he would be unable to resist the temptation of those pink lips.
“I did not know that,” Anne said breathlessly, clicking her horse into action.
“Yes, the New Year is far more important than Christmas,” he said, attempting to keep his attention on his words. “We fast for forty days before Christmas Eve, and the day is full of feasting, story-telling, even telling fortunes.”
“Fortune telling?”
He could hear the interest in her voice, and grinned. “Why, would you like to know your fortune, Annika?”
Her eyes dropped and her cheeks darkened. “Perhaps. Meredith’s, certainly. I would like to know she will be happy. B-But that is of no consequence – your Christmas celebrations sound vastly different to ours.”
Maxim followed her, trying to focus on their route rather than her beauty. “I have had to adapt in the few months I have been here, but nothing like how quickly you have adapted to Lightning. ‘Tis like you have known her all your life!”
Anne laughed, and it was a true laugh now, with no concerns or self-consciousness. “A country girl who doesn’t know her way around a new horse isn’t worth anything.”
“Ah, so you are not a city dweller then?” Maxim found himself asking. Suddenly, knowing all about Anne, everything about her, felt especially important.
“No, I am from a small town in Kent that no one in London has ever heard of,” she said with a smile. “We are not far from London, but I have to say I much prefer the countryside.”
“If I had not promised your father we would stay at St. James’ Court, you could have shown it to me.”
Anne glanced at him, as though attempting to decipher whether he was jesting with her or not, but she seemed convinced of his sincerity.
“I would like to show you, one day. The marshes are beautiful, especially when the mists are rising in the morning. I often see them when I visit Mrs Patterson each morning. She has lost her sight, poor thing, and her daughter is in service over ten miles away. I help with her sewing.”
It was impossible not to hear the wistfulness in her voice. “You miss your home.”
Anne jerked from her reverie and smiled a little awkwardly. “Well, who would not? You must miss your family, and the places you grew up.”
Maxim swallowed. Why did it come so quickly, this instinct to lie, to hide the truth? It was an innocent question after all, one that she would probably not think twice about saying to any acquaintance.
But he was not just someone she had met. He was a Czar, and telling her anything could not just reveal his secret, but perhaps put her in the most dangerous of plots.
“If you do not wish to speak of it,” Anne’s voice cut through his thoughts, “you do not have to.”
Maxim glanced over and saw her smile gently. There was surely no danger in telling the truth here. While éduard would surely tell him to beware any woman – he had been caught that way before – Anne’s enquiry was innocent.
“I certainly miss the winters,” he said, his throat feeling strangely dry as they turned and started making their way back to St. James’ Court. “You do not have real winter here in England, I think. No icicles hanging from your nose when you step outside, no mountains.”
“Icicles on your nose?”
“In the depths of winter, you would be lucky to get away with that,” Maxim said with a wry smile. “And in the palace I grew up in, the winter palace, we would have fires in every room just to keep out the chill.”
Just one glance told him all he needed to know.
“It really is disgraceful, you know,” he quipped. “My own future bride not believing me.”
Anne laughed in turn. “You do not actually think we will get married, do you?”
The words ‘of course not’ were on the tip of his tongue when a cloud moved and sunlight lit up Anne’s entire face. Maxim’s breath caught in his throat. She was perfection, and she had been handed to him on a plate. He would be mad to walk away from her – mad!
“Are you quite well, Maxim?” Anne’s voice was close by and he blinked. She had moved closer, halting her mare beside his horse. “You look very strange.”
Maxim looked around them. They were alone.
Dropping his reins, he reached out and caressed Anne’s cheek before pulling her face towards him. She did not resist, her lips meeting his with just as much passion as that which he poured down upon them.
If they had not been mounted on different horses, it could have been different. As it was, Maxim was unable to pull her into his arms, but if anything that just made the kiss more tender.
Eventually, they broke apart.
“I must not get accustomed to this treatment,” Anne breathed, her blue eyes searching his. “When we announce the end of our engagement on Christmas Day, I may end up missing you.”
Maxim swallowed. “I know I will miss you even if we decided to end the engagement now.”
She stared, as though attempting to decipher any secret meaning in his words, and then she chuckled gently and moved her horse forwards.
“Your Czar charm won’t fool me.”
Maxim watched her back as she rode ahead of him, and then remembered he needed to be moving too and touched Thunder into action.
“Yes,” he said, awkwardly. “Czar charm.”