Page 10 of You Belong to Me

  And Konrad, the last to arrive, addressed only the portion he caught. "Saddle sores, Alex? You? Your arse should be tough as—"

  "That's enough," Alexandra interrupted, and she looked at each of them separately as she said, "No, no, and no," in answer to their remarks. "I've already explained my plan to you, and you agreed it's a good one. We'll give it a chance before I consider any other options. But beating him up isn't going to be one of them."

  "A shame," Stenka said with a sigh.

  She gave him a stern look before continu­ing. "Rest assured, we won't have another day like today. He's trying to keep us on his schedule, and even if we can manage it much easier than he can, I won't wait for him to give it up, not with my babies along. Speak­ing of which, have they been settled in for the night?"

  "They're rigging up a separate corral for the mares, since they aren't equipped for so many horses here," Timofee told her. "It will do for one night."

  They went on to discuss a few other matters pertinent to traveling, but were interrupted when Vasili finally made an appearance with his friend, Lazar Dimitrieff. That one had ap­proached Alexandra earlier in the day to introduce himself. She hadn't been a bit surprised to find out that he'd purchased one of her fa­ther's whites and was riding him, a gelding she knew to be of easy temperament.

  Ordinarily she would have discussed the merits of the animal with him, would have enjoyed doing so and at length, but she had decided not to be friendly to anyone in Vasili's group, and that included Count Dimitrieff, which was a shame, because he seemed quite likable, and they obviously had a love of fine horseflesh in common. It didn't take him long, though, to give up trying to instigate a con­versation with her when she all but ignored him.

  She had deigned to share a few words with him only because he'd asked about Nina. "Who's the little cherub?" had been his exact question.

  "My maid, Nina Razin."

  "Related to those Cossacks?"

  "Their only sister," she had told him.

  Her reply had produced a drawn-out sigh. "And here I thought I just might enjoy the trip home."

  She had wanted to laugh at his forlorn ex­pression, it was so funny. Instead she had warned him, "You'll stay away from Nina— unless she wants to be bothered." And she had said no more.

  She wondered now if he had informed Vasili of her rudeness. She certainly hoped so. She wanted him to know that her contempt wasn't reserved just for him, and that his friends and family weren't going to be im­mune from it.

  Vasili gave her only a cursory glance upon his entrance. There was one seat left at her ta­ble, but she was sure he wouldn't take it. But then, as long as he could witness her table manners, which were going to be atrocious for his benefit, it didn't matter where he sat.

  He stopped to speak to the proprietor for a few moments, probably finding out that there was nothing left for him to arrange, that she'd taken care of everything. She hoped that would annoy him, which was why she'd done it. Men did have a habit of liking to think they were in charge.

  Watching him closely, she could discern no indication that he was hearing anything that might disturb him. Then there was a squeal across the room, made by one of the two serv­ing girls, this one having just noticed him. And the girl apparently knew him, because the pleased noise was followed by her rush­ing across the room to him.

  Alexandra's brows went up, then came ab­ruptly together when she saw the smile Vasili bestowed on the girl, a smile so beautiful that Alexandra drew in her breath, and she wasn't even the recipient of it. The girl wasn't excep­tionally pretty, but the way Vasili was looking at her, you'd have thought she was the loveli­est creature he'd ever seen.

  When she reached him, he leaned close to whisper something in her ear. She laughed and placed a hand intimately on his chest before answering him. His hand came to her derriere for a pat before she sauntered away to return to her work, though she cast more than one sultry glance back over her shoulder at him. Any half-wit could have figured out that they'd just made an assignation for later.

  Alexandra left her table and caught up with the girl as she was about to leave the room for the kitchen. Without warning— Alexandra hadn't known what she was go­ing to do when she started across the room—she grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and jerked her around. The tray she was holding went flying from her fingers. If peo­ple had not been looking in their direction before, they were now.

  "That's my betrothed you were thinking about bedding," Alexandra said, her voice ac­tually quite casual for such a volatile subject. "Go anywhere near him again and I'll cut off your ears and make you eat them. Or perhaps you consider him worth the loss?"

  "No, Baroness," the girl squeaked, her eyes wide and her complexion gone white.

  Alexandra frowned. "You know me?"

  "Y-yes, Baroness."

  "So you know I mean what I say?"

  "Yes!"

  "Good. Then let us hope I don't have to speak to you again."

  Alexandra returned to her table. She didn't glance at Vasili as she passed him. She was rather amazed at herself, not for what she'd said, but for having been able to cause a scene like that without feeling the least bit embar­rassed. Proving to her betrothed that she was far below his social stratum was going to be much easier than she'd thought.

  "Was he shocked?" she whispered to Stenka as she resumed her seat.

  "I couldn't say," he answered honestly, his eyes twinkling. "I couldn't take my eyes off you and such a splendid display of jealousy."

  "Don't be absurd," she said irritably. "I only did it for his benefit."

  That got her a snort and a scoffing tone as he replied, "This is Stenka, Alex. I know just how possessive you can be. I was there, re­member, when you took a horsewhip to that army lieutenant when he abused the horse you let him borrow. You never hesitated to light into Konrad with both fists whenever he made Nina cry with his teasing. You blistered my father's ears the last time he took a strap to me—let me know when you've heard enough."

  That got him a scowl. "You and your family are different. So are my animals."

  "We are yours, and what's yours is yours. Everyone who knows you knows that, Alex. And until one or the other of you breaks that betrothal, the Cardinian is also yours, so where is the difference?"

  "The difference is, I don't want him to be mine." And then she looked at the rest of her friends. "Did at least one of you notice his re­action?"

  "I did," Konrad admitted, a partial grin touching his lips. "And it wasn't shock he Was experiencing. Anger was more like it."

  Alexandra still didn't look for herself to see it, but she sat back, quite satisfied. "That will do just as well. I warned him what to expect. Now he knows I wasn't spouting empty threats."

  "I'd say he's figured that out," Timofee put in with a chuckle. "It's going to be interesting to see what he does about it."

  "What can he do?" she countered without concern. "We aren't married yet."

  The three men just stared at her. Nina did the opposite and looked in another direction. Alexandra began to squirm in her seat.

  "What?" she demanded.

  "A betrothal isn't like your usual engage­ment, Alex," Konrad told her. "It's damn close to actually being married. Sworn oaths were made. Even you gave your word you'd marry him, and your father likely apprised him of it. That gives the man some definite authority where you're concerned, or didn't you know that?"

  "What kind of authority?"

  Konrad didn't mince words. "The same au­thority a husband would have."

  "Nonsense. I already told him he couldn't dictate to me, and he didn't try to prove oth­erwise." She didn't bother to mention that he had insisted that he could, in fact, do just that.

  "You were still at home when you said it, under your father's rule. Now you're not."

  She really didn't like the sound of this. "It makes no difference where I was," she in­sisted. "He can rail at me and complain all he wants. I'm quite experienced by now at i
gnor­ing angry men."

  "An angry father, yes, but not an angry be­trothed," Konrad pointed out. "I hate to say it, Alex, but the two are not the same."

  "All right, damn it," she practically growled. "Just what are you getting at?"

  "What happens if he starts giving you some 'or elses' and backs them up?"

  Her eyes narrowed at that, but her tone turned excessively dry. "You aren't by any chance suggesting that the man might try to beat me, are you?"

  "Actually—yes."

  "And you'd simply stand around and let him, I suppose? And Bojik wouldn't rip his throat out if he tried?"

  "Bojik isn't going to be at your heels every moment of the day," Konrad informed her. "Most nights he'll be put in the stable, where he is now, since most inns won't allow him in­side. And we aren't going to be at your side constantly either. We might be able to make the Cardinian regret whatever he does to you, but that would be after the fact. And a king's cousin, regardless of the less-than-impressive title he carries, ranks higher than any of our princes, and you know how powerful they are. It wouldn't be all that difficult for him to get us tossed in jail. Hell, he could have us shot, and no one would do anything to him for it. That's the kind of authority he can wield."

  Alexandra was simmering by now. "Is there a point to all of this?"

  Konrad finally grinned at her, now that he'd ruined her mood. "Just don't get him too mad, Alex. Find out your limit and don't overstep it, even if you have to give in to his demands occasionally—and hope he hasn't re­alized how much power he has over you now."

  It was too late to hope for that, she was al-

  most certain. And if she had been naive in thinking her friends could protect her in any given situation, they were forgetting that she didn't do so bad at protecting herself. Give in, indeed. She'd start carrying a horsewhip first.

  13

  The food had been served, but it sat un­touched in front of Vasili. Lazar, who was sharing his table, had no trouble making headway through the plain but filling meal. Vasili was making headway through a bottle of vodka instead.

  He'd been angry all day after being unable to get Alexandra to leave those damn wagons behind, but what he was feeling now was a bit more on the explosive side. His anger had es­calated when the meal arrived, the girl deliver­ing it barely looking at him, hurrying away, terrified that she might draw his notice. The other wench—he still couldn't recall her name—had disappeared completely, nor did he expect to see her again. He recognized absolute fear when he saw it. At the moment, he'd like to see it on the face of his betrothed.

  It was beyond belief what he'd witnessed, what the entire room had witnessed. Such barbarous behavior, such viciousness. She couldn't bring her complaint to him, could she? She couldn't make her threats in private, as any civilized person would have. She had to demonstrate for one and all what a little savage she was. And this was the woman his father had chosen for him to marry.

  Vasili and Lazar had been friends long enough for Lazar to know what was on Vasili's mind without asking. But he just couldn't sympathize, and actually was quietly amused. Because of his incredible looks, Vasili never had trouble with women, at least not this kind. It would do him a world of good to find out what other men had to deal with from the fairer sex.

  "You might as well forget it," Lazar offered, his tone neutral.

  Those golden eyes, presently glowing, came to meet Lazar's blue ones. "Forget that my bed is going to be empty again tonight, when I had been looking forward to sharing it with that very accommodating wench? Or forget that my betrothed is a walking, breathing scandal?"

  Lazar nearly choked as he tried to cut off the laughter that Vasili's last comment had prompted. "Forget both," he managed to sug­gest. "Your bed was filled to its usual capacity nearly the entire trip here, so a little absti­nence on the way back isn't going to kill you."

  Vasili wasn't so sure of that, considering the way he'd been feeling since last night, but he replied, "Certainly it won't, but you're over­looking the fact that my dalliance was for Al­exandra's benefit more than for my own. It was supposed to enrage her enough to cry off, not to allow her to demonstrate an unex­pected tendency toward violence."

  "Or bluffing."

  "I wish I could believe that, Lazar. I really did think exactly that when she first made the threat to do what she did tonight. But she's done just what she said she'd do if I at­tempted to entertain myself with another woman—cause an embarrassing public scene. Can you imagine her doing something like that at Stefan's court?"

  Lazar grinned. "Stefan might find it amus­ing. I know Tanya would."

  "And my mother would collapse from the shock. I have got to get rid of the little barbar­ian before we reach Cardinia. But tell me how I'm to do that when she has effectively taken away one of my better means of accomplish­ing it."

  "But you do have other means," Lazar re­minded him. "Which, by the way, you can't put to use when you're sitting across the room from her."

  "If I were sitting next to her, I would have throttled her by now," Vasili replied. "I still may."

  He was not exaggerating. While he still felt such a strong urge to wring her pretty neck, he had been avoiding even glancing in her di­rection. Yet thinking about it, he did just that. He didn't expect to be astonished, however, or momentarily to forget his anger.

  Alexandra had a chicken leg in one hand that she was waving around as she spoke to her companions. There was a leaf of boiled cabbage in her other hand, a rather large leaf, that she managed to stuff into her mouth with her fingers. She was drinking the wine she had ordered straight from the bottle. Even the bread she ate she dipped into the butter in­stead of spreading it with a knife. In the five minutes that he stared, utterly amazed, she didn't once reach for the utensils that lay un­used beside her plate.

  It came to him then, with swift and thrilling relief, that the answer to his dilemma was Al­exandra herself. And it wouldn't even have occurred to him if he hadn't just mentioned his mother and the shock she was going to suffer if she had to witness a scene like the one he had viewed tonight. But that and this combined, and heaven knew what else, were going to so revolt his mother, there would be no question of a wedding. She would abso­lutely forbid it.

  "Jesus, Lazar, I may not have to do another thing except take her home and let her dine with my mother. Look at her. She has the ta­ble manners of a pig."

  "I'd already noticed, just forbore mention­ing it," Lazar replied, humor in his tone. "I take it you're not excessively appalled?"

  "Are you joking? I couldn't be more de­lighted. I'm not going to have to break off this betrothal, and neither is she. If my mother can spend just one day with her, and I'll make sure she does, she will refuse to let me marry her, and that'll be the end of it."

  "Are you going to depend on that when Maria's fondest wish is to see you wed?"

  Vasili frowned at that depressing reminder.

  "A good point. I will proceed as planned, yet I'm happy to say the urgency is gone. I no longer have any doubt that this matter will right itself."

  "You had doubts?"

  "I was close to terrified, if you must know," Vasili said with little exaggeration.

  Lazar snorted. "I don't see why. If you had to take a wife, this one is at least easy on the eyes, full of surprises, which is not a bad thing, and you could always teach her some proper manners. She also glows with good health, which means she'd have no trouble supplying you with a great many heirs."

  "// I was looking for a wife, everything you've said is true, I suppose. But you've left out a few important facts. Alexandra's atti­tude happens to really irritate me, I don't par­ticularly like her, and I can name a dozen women who would suit me better and who wouldn't tell me they don't want to marry me."

  Lazar couldn't resist chuckling. "Is that still twisting the screw?"

  "Don't be absurd," Vasili replied and went on to insist, "Her reluctance was merely a sur­prise, and as it happens, a fort
uitous one. I had been dreading the possibility of having to deal with her hurt feelings before she got an­gry enough to call this off."

  Lazar nodded, as if he truly believed that. "Now you'll earn her eternal gratitude for proving to be so unacceptable to her that she has the excuse she needs to end it. I wouldn't be surprised if she laughs all the way home."

  That remark had Vasili scowling, though he wasn't even aware he was doing it, and he still said, "I'm the one who will be eternally grateful that she's such a backwater provin­cial. Her father said she was unique, he just didn't specify how. Do you think those three Cossacks are her lovers?"

  The question was so unexpected, Lazar choked, literally, his food going down the wrong way. It took him a full minute of coughing and throat-clearing before he was able to glare at Vasili and say with rancor, "Just because you think nothing of pleasuring three women at the same time doesn't mean your betrothed would consider trying the same."

  Vasili had meant nothing of the kind and was amused that Lazar thought he had. "Oh, I don't know. Countess Eva managed four once—or so I've heard."

  Lazar blinked. "Four? How?"

  "One can only imagine. But that certainly wasn't what I meant about Alexandra. It takes a degree of sophistication to even think of such amusements, which we can unani­mously agree she lacks. I meant individually, singly—how shall I put this?—one at a time."

  Lazar was glaring again. "Save the sarcasm for the little lady, will you? With me it's liable to get you a bloody nose."

  Vasili was in the habit of being provocative with his friends regardless of consequences, so he ignored Lazar's threat as he always did. However, he was too interested in the subject he had introduced to continue needling Lazar as he might have done otherwise.

  "Let's get back to my question, shall we?" he said. "Those three Cossacks might be ugly as sin, but we know how insignificant looks are when there is a need. And it would sup­ply one more reason why she doesn't want to marry, if she's got her own studs working for her."

  "Dare I mention that 'if is a supposition?"