AWAKENING THE SHY MISS Read Free Page B

Freedom. The freedom to go anywhere, to do anything, to be anything. There were nights when Dimitri thought he’d trade all the wealth of Kuban for that freedom and a pair of shabby chairs. He leaned back and sighed contentedly. ‘It was a good idea to come here, Andrew. Thank you for this opportunity.’
    * * *
    There were nights when Andrew knew without question he’d trade everything he had, everything he was, to be Dimitri Petrovich, Prince of Kuban: rich, handsome, charismatic, with the world at his feet. This was one of those nights. He’d seen the people approach Dimitri with something close to awe, the men impressed with his title and knowledge, the women impressed with just him. Andrew longed to command a room like that. He had his own charisma, it was true, but he knew it didn’t rival Dimitri’s magnetism. Of course, money probably had something to do with it. Money always had something to do with everything.
    It was also one of those nights when he found Dimitri irritatingly high-minded. Of course, it was easy to be without sin when one was wealthy enough not to have to care. Andrew rose and poured another glass of brandy—the good stuff. If he had to listen to Dimitri go on and on about his plans for the villa excavation, he might as well enjoy himself. ‘This will be good for Little Westbury. The excavation will provide jobs.’ Andrew tuned it out. He had heard it all before, how retrieving history created a sense of local pride in small communities, how it helped the economy, not just labourers at the site, but the businesses that supported a large labour force: farmers, bakers, butchers who supplied the food required for such an endeavour; tourism and news stories that would bring people here, people who might require more services than a single inn or tavern could provide. The town might need two such places. The Prince had vision and he had the talent to give others vision too, Andrew would give him that.
    After all, hadn’t the Prince given him vision? The vision of how dusty, broken artefacts could be translated into shiny gold. Once Andrew had seen the possibilities, history had become a lot more interesting. This villa excavation was going to be his own personal gold mine. He’d finally have the funds he needed, the prestige he needed, to live at the standard he wanted. There would be no more tatty chairs and worn curtains, no more carefully going over the account ledgers of his grandfather’s shrinking estate to make sure the books balanced. Andrew was not interested in what the excavation would do for Little Westbury, but what it could do for him. He would finally be free.

Chapter Three
    ‘S o, how did it go last night?’ The question hit Evie the moment two of her best friends stepped down from the open carriage. It was mid-morning and the sun was riding high towards its noon heat. Soon it would be hot, but for now it was pleasantly warm and Evie let Beatrice and May link their arms through hers, flanking her on either side as they set off for shopping in the village.
    Anyone watching them advance down the street would see three young, chattering women, all smiles and laughter, even carefree. In part, that might be true. Evie knew the primary purpose for this shopping expedition was to hear about the excitement of her evening. No one saw the other agenda that brought them together. No one could be allowed to. It was their secret. Time was running out. They might not be together much longer. Already, their fourth, Claire, was on her honeymoon far away in Vienna, where she’d live with her new husband. Beatrice would be the next to go, probably in a few weeks.
    Evie shot a covert glance at Beatrice’s middle, softly rounding beneath the loose cotton muslin of her summer gown, proof that it was going to happen. Beatrice was pregnant. And unwed. She would be leaving for Scotland soon, where she could have her baby at a distant relative’s home and her family could forget about her shame.