The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(40)

“Nvengarians are dramatic people, I grant,” Meagan answered, a bit breathlessly.

“Slavers,” Alexander said.

Meagan trotted a few steps to keep up with his long-legged stride. “Pardon? Did you say slavers?”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed as he studied the path ahead of them. “Slavery and the slave trade have long been forbidden in Nvengaria. With the old Imperial Prince dead and Prince Damien off on a quest, a group of slavers tried to set up shop in Narato, kidnapping both Jamaican and Romany girls along the way to fill their bawdy houses. They peddled opium as well, which they brought in through the lands of the Ottomans. I told them to free the young women and leave. They did not listen.”

His tone was so matter-of-fact that Meagan shivered. Slave traders and opium men were dangerous, but what fools they had been not to be afraid of Alexander.

“You arrested them?” she ventured.

“I sent in the army.” Alexander stopped walking, his eyes hard. “I told my men to do their worst and raze the area the slavers had infested. The young women were freed to either return home or stay in Nvengaria as they chose. The slavers were executed.”

“Oh.”

“It is important for you to understand,” Alexander said, watching her. “If I had arrested them they might have escaped justice, gone elsewhere to continue what they did. Others would have moved in to take their place. I had to end the problem with a final stroke and leave nothing standing for others to take.”

“So the people fleeing on barges …?”

“Innocents who lived in the area. I arranged for them to get out before the army struck. They knew to heed me.”

Meagan imagined most Nvengarians realized that if Alexander said he was sending in the army, then he was sending in the army. “Nikolai needs to modify his story,” she said decidedly.

“Nikolai is Damien’s man.”

Meagan considered this. “Which means he leaves out the part about your compassion to the young women. I suppose having such a ruthless reputation is useful for terrifying people like the new king of England.”

Alexander gave another matter-of-fact nod. “Yes, it can be useful.”

“You are Damien’s man too, are you not?” Meagan asked. “You work for him now.”

Alexander’s expression became guarded. “I work for the good of Nvengaria. Prince Damien has proved himself to be good for it.”

“Is marrying me good for Nvengaria?” Meagan asked. She looked away, rolling her parasol back and forth. “A nobody English miss caught in a love spell?”

“I do not give a damn,” Alexander said, voice turning harsh. Meagan looked back to see his lips twitch into an almost-smile. “Marrying you is good for me. As I say the Nvengarians will find it very romantic. I imagine the ballads will begin the moment word arrives that we are betrothed.” His tone softened. “The very menacing Grand Duke at last smitten with a red-haired lady with beautiful eyes.”

Meagan’s face warmed. “It is good of you to flatter me.”

“It is not flattery. It is truth.”

“The love spell …”

Alexander reached for her, his voice going low. “Makes me pleased that I have brought you here alone far from the crowd. Because the things I wish to say to you are not the sweet sentiments of an English groom for his bride.”

Meagan found it hard to breathe all the sudden. “What things?” she asked faintly. “Do tell.”

Alexander captured her hand and peeled back her glove. “I believe I will show you instead.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Immensely dangerous.” He lowered his lips to her wrist. Fires stirred inside Meagan’s blood, the love spell flaring to life.

To her disappointment, Alexander released her hand after one kiss, but the look in his eyes made her heart speed.

He slowly removed his gloves, tucking them neatly into his waistband. “Since you believe me a compassionate man,” he said as he worked, “I will give you a chance to flee back to your father.”

An innocent miss should have a fit of the vapors when a gentleman, even her fiancé, implied such things to her. However, Meagan reasoned that if she had the vapors now she would miss whatever it was he wanted to show her.

She looked straight into his eyes. “I would like to stay, please.”

The heat that flared in his dark blue eyes nearly made Meagan change her mind. Nearly.

Alexander took her parasol and reticule from her and placed them on a nearby stone bench. “The next time I offer to let you run, I urge you to consider it,” he said, in a tone that made her heart beat faster.

“Why?” Meagan’s mouth was dry.

“For your own good.”

She swallowed. “You sound like Dominic.”

“Dominic is wise.”

Alexander untied the ribbons of her bonnet, lifted it from her head, and placed it next to the parasol. Then he gently unwound her fine lawn fichu from her shoulders and folded it into a thin strip. “Place your hands behind your back.”

Meagan felt a frisson of worry, or perhaps it was only heightened excitement and anticipation.

“Why do you want me to?” she asked.

Alexander waited, the fichu between his hands, his look giving nothing away, though she saw his chest rise with a swift breath. “It is a game.”