Pleasure at seeingher, he realized.
Lady Tansy’s dark hair was swept into a chignon, a few curls coming free to frame her face. She dipped into an elegant curtsy instantly. “Your Majesty.”
He wanted to correct her, to tell her to call him Maxim as he had commanded, but first, he needed to get to the heart of the matter. He stalked to the bed with its artfully arranged pillows once more plumped to replicate the outline of the princess. With one hand, Maxim flipped up the counterpane, revealing the subterfuge.
“Sleeping,” he repeated, turning to Lady Tansy with a raised brow.
Lady Tansy frowned at him. “You are surprised?”
He took her hand in his, pulling her to the farthest point in the chamber from the door and any chance a passing guardwould overhear. The awareness that shot through him at the contact was undeniable, but he forced himself to ignore it for now. He needed to learn where the princess was and why she had declined the use of his carriage this evening.
“What are you doing?” Lady Tansy demanded, her voice a harsh whisper, her expression ferocious as she attempted to disentangle her fingers from his, as if his touch burned her.
Maxim released his hold, taking pity on her.
“Finding a place we can converse without fear of listening ears,” he told her quietly, calmly.
“Why should we need to converse? I do believe we have said everything to each other that needed to be said.”
He gave her a small smile. “How wrong you are, spitfire. Where is she?”
“On your errand.” Lady Tansy’s brows drew together. “Where else?”
“Somewhere that didn’t require the use of my carriage,” he explained. “She sent my coachman away. I came here immediately, fearing the worst.”
And finding the same tableau that had greeted him upon his previous visits. A pile of pillows being watched over by a tempting lady-in-waiting with determination and stubbornness forged in steel. He would give anything to take her mouth with his. To know the supple give of her luscious lips. To discover if she would respond.
Maxim suspected he already knew the answer to that particular question.
“As you can see, nothing is amiss,” Lady Tansy said, her tone lacking conviction.
Unless he missed his guess, she was worried. But she also knew more than she was saying.
“I see the opposite, my lady,” he countered. “Something seems to be distinctly amiss. The princess is not here, and sheis not in my carriage, under my protection. Where the devil is she?”
Her chin went up in a rather defensive gesture. “The guards spotted your carriage by the mews. I learned that questions were being asked. The princess thought it prudent to avoid traveling in it, given the suspicion.”
“Fair enough,” he allowed, stroking his jaw as he considered Lady Tansy with grave care. “How did the princess arrive at her destination, then?”
She gave him a tight smile. “I believe she arranged for another conveyance.”
Lady Tansy was lying. His instincts never failed him, and everything—from her false cheer to the stiff set of her shoulders—suggested she was not telling him the truth.
Interesting.
Maxim smiled back at her, feeling wolfish. “I appreciate Her Royal Highness’s sense of caution.”
“I am glad,” Lady Tansy said faintly. “Princess Anastasia is nothing if not circumspect. She understands how important this is. She would never do anything to hinder your mission.”
He ran his hand along his jaw some more, considering her. “I would never doubt it.”
Also a lie.
He was suspicious of the princess. He trusted her only as much as he needed to—she was the sole person who could convince her exiled brother to return to Boritania at great peril to his own life and limb. Maxim needed to marry her for the power such an alliance would bring. But something decidedly odd was afoot, and he was determined to get to the root of it.
One way or another.
“I am grateful for your confidence in Her Royal Highness,” Lady Tansy chirped with more false brightness.
