Page 23 of You Belong to Me

  The statement made both Alexandra and Vasili uncomfortable. He knew Alexandra was beautiful, but he wasn't about to own up to it in her presence. And she never did like hearing it.

  But Tanya didn't notice, and went on to say, "Come, I've ordered refreshments and—"

  "We've both eaten," Vasili said so fast, Tanya raised a brow again.

  Alexandra had to bite back a laugh that he was so horrified at the thought of her eating in front of the queen, and she decided to tease him. "Actually—"

  "You're not hungry, Alex, believe me you're not," he stated emphatically.

  At which point Tanya placed both hands on her hips and demanded, "What is going on?"

  "Nothing, just a private joke," he assured her, and to change the subject, he added, "I must say you're looking pleasantly plump— quite different from the last time I saw you."

  It was a subject guaranteed to lighten the queen's mood and she grinned. "I am, aren't I? Which reminds me. Before I get any more plump, I want to arrange a ball to introduce Alexandra to—"

  "No!"

  He'd actually shouted, and Tanya said in exasperation, "Why ever not?"

  He didn't bother to prevaricate this time. "Because Alex would find some reason to show up just as she is."

  "Oh, come now," Tanya scoffed, but she looked at Alexandra to deny it, and found an expression that was just too inscrutable. After a thoughtful moment, Tanya suggested, "Vasi-li, why don't you go find Stefan? I believe he's on the training field—and from what I've heard, you could use some practice yourself."

  "Lazar and his big mouth," Vasili grum­bled. "You make it sound as if I chose whips. And besides, I don't dare leave you alone with—"

  "Run along, Petroff," Alexandra cut in dryly. "I'm not going to murder your queen, but you aren't going to be so lucky if you say another word."

  He winced, and she was right. By trying to keep her from embarrassing herself, he was doing it for her, which hadn't been his inten­tion.

  He tried to make amends. "I'm sorry, Tanya, if I've given the wrong impression. She's really very ..." He had to pause to think of something nice to say other than "kind to animals."

  "Go!"

  That from Tanya, in complete annoyance now, and he sighed and went. The two women shared a moment of silent communion, having found something in common—easy exaspera­tion where Vasili was concerned. And yet they were still strangers, Tanya hoping to change that, Alexandra wary of trying.

  Accordingly, Alexandra offered an innocu­ous subject as Tanya led them to a group of comfortable chairs. "You speak English very well."

  "I was raised in America. If s pretty com­mon over there. And you?"

  "My tutor insisted I learn French and En­glish, though my English was not so good until—much later."

  Tanya didn't notice the pause and said, "What little French I know, I learned from the patrons where I used to work, though not enough to manage a decent conversation. But I'm delighted we won't need an interpreter. So often I do require one, though I'm learning Cardinian. I understand it's very similar to Russian, so you should have much less diffi­culty learning it than I."

  Alexandra had no intention of learning it, but she didn't say so, and her curiosity had been aroused despite her determination to re­main aloof. "You used to work?"

  "Didn't Vasili tell you? I was raised in a tavern without any knowledge of who I was. When Stefan and his friends found me and tried to convince me I was a princess from this country, betrothed from birth to the Crown Prince, I didn't believe a word of it. I thought they were playing some elaborate practical joke at first, and then when they in­sisted I come along with them, I'm afraid I thought they were planning to sell me to some brothel. Such things were known to happen along the Mississippi."

  Alexandra's eyes had gone wide during Tanya's story, but now she burst out laughing. "A brothel?"

  Tanya grinned. "I know how farfetched that sounds, but it happened to be much more be­lievable than my marrying the king of some country I'd never heard of."

  "I see your point. What finally convinced you they were telling the truth?"

  "When they had me on a ship bound for Europe, they finally admitted that Stefan was the king, rather than Vasili."

  "Vasili?"

  Tanya snorted in remembrance. "That was Stefan's idea. I was giving them trouble right from the beginning, and he thought I'd come along with them more willingly if I was told Vasili was the king I was to marry."

  "I can't imagine why."

  "Neither could I. I positively detested the man at the time, he was so condescending and downright insufferable, but I have to ad­mit I'm quite fond of him now."

  "You mean it's possible to get used to his arrogance?" Alexandra asked doubtfully.

  Tanya chose not to answer that, at least not until she had clarified what she had begun to suspect. "Can I ask you why he didn't want you to eat anything?"

  "Will my answer get back to him?"

  "Not if you don't want it to."

  "Very well. He didn't want you to see me eat anything. He thinks I eat like a pig."

  She said it with enough amusement in her tone that Tanya felt free to ask, "Do you?"

  "Only when he's around."

  "I begin to understand. Lazar told us about the trip, but mostly about Vasili's behavior. You really don't want to marry him, do you?"

  "Would you want to marry a lecher like him?" Alexandra countered.

  Tanya laughed. "I agree he indulges in ex­cess, but he's too handsome for his own good, and women tend to make fools of themselves over him. I had intended to warn my ladies that he is no longer available."

  "Well, that will save me the trouble of cut­ting off any more ears." Alexandra snorted.

  Tanya was startled. Lazar hadn't mentioned that, merely that there had been threats. "Would you really?"

  "No, but women tend to prefer not to find out."

  Tanya laughed again. "I suppose not. But, you know, Vasili has never had a reason not to be a libertine. And as I understand it, you told him you didn't want to marry him when you first met him, which wouldn't have encour­aged him to change that aspect of his nature."

  "I had only learned of this damn betrothal a few hours before I met him."

  "You must be joking!"

  "Not at all," Alexandra said in remembered disgust. "My father kept it a well-guarded se­cret. He was afraid that if he gave me prior warning, I wouldn't be there to meet Vasili at all, which was likely, considering how furious I was."

  "Was that the only reason you didn't want to marry him—because you were angry?" Tanya asked gently.

  "No ... but I'd rather not discuss the other reason." Alexandra was already blushing, just imagining the queen's reaction to someone's waiting seven years for a man to get around to proposing. "It's—well, I find it embarrass­ing."

  "Then don't think of it. But I have to ask, since I'm so fond of Vasili, if you still feel nothing for him."

  Alexandra wasn't sure how to answer, con­sidering that the woman was so fond of him. "I have sensed, just recently, that he might have a few good qualities, though he rarely shows them. But—whatever I feel for him, it doesn't matter. You said it yourself, how con­temptuous and insufferable he can be, and that's about all I've seen from him. I could never get along with someone like that."

  "And how does he get along with you—as you are?"

  Alexandra blushed. "I may have pretended to be something I'm not, but I was trying to make it easy for him to end the betrothal, since I can't."

  And that put Tanya in something of a di­

  lemma, wondering if she should tell Alexan­

  dra the truth about Vasili, or if it wouldn't

  make any difference if she knew. Lazar had

  told them some surprising things, about Vasili

  calling her "his" without realizing it, and ask­

  ing Lazar to seduce her, then changing his

  mind, and displaying some obvious signs of

&nb
sp; jealousy over the girl. That pointed to some­

  thing other than indifference as far as Tanya was concerned.

  "Would you be surprised to know that Vasili has done exactly what you have?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "He hasn't shown you his true self. When I said I detested him—and I really did—it was because he was doing everything possible to make me detest him, and he did it all deliber­ately."

  "Why?"

  "Because women tend to fall in love with him before they even know him—it's that face of his—and he was afraid I would do the same when I was to be Stefan's wife, not his.

  He loves Stefan, you see. They are more like brothers than cousins. And he'd do anything to assure Stefan's happiness, including acting like the most despicable, condescending jack­ass imaginable, when he's not like that at all."

  Alexandra had gone very still. "He's not?"

  "Not at all—well, perhaps a little arro­gant—no, make that very. I believe arrogance runs in the family. And maybe he does occa­sionally belittle things that he deems unworthy with that diabolical wit of his, but he more than makes up for that with his loyalty and dedica­tion to duty."

  "What duty? He's no more than—"

  "One of the king's personal bodyguards, his elite guard, and quite deadly with numerous weapons, which you can see for yourself if you care to take a stroll by the training field before you leave. You know"—Tanya took a moment to reflect—"Vasili didn't like me ei­ther when we first met. He thought I wasn't good enough for Stefan. But when he could have let me escape—I tried to more than once—he didn't. 'Duty before preference' was how he put it, and he meant it. And there's something else you probably don't know. He's also incredibly charming when he's not trying to be nasty."

  "You're right, I wouldn't know," Alexandra said in a hollow tone.

  "Please, you weren't supposed to be hurt by what I've told you."

  "I'm not," Alexandra insisted, if a little stiffly.

  "If Vasili has shown you the worst he can be, it's because he didn't want to get married. He was very upset when he learned of this betrothal. He went to Russia to—"

  "Get rid of me."

  Tanya winced. "He told you?"

  "Yes; he's been quite honest about that at least."

  "But the point I was trying to make was, I'm not so sure he still feels that way. Yet he's locked himself into this role he's playing for you—just as you have."

  Alexandra wasn't so sure Vasili was playing a role, but if she was to believe it, then that made the whole thing even worse. He was so against marriage he had to pretend—just as she did. And what would happen if she showed her true self? Would it matter? No, he had been against marriage before he'd met her, and again after, and Tanya might not be sure, but she was—he was still against it. And he was a lecher. The queen hadn't contra­dicted that. And she had to be crazy even to think about it.

  "Vasili might have some noble virtues I would never have guessed at," Alexandra said. "But he's still a lecher."

  "Yes, and probably will be—until he falls in love."

  33

  Alexandra decided she wasn't going to wait for Vasili to collect her from the receiving chamber. She would use his carriage, then send it back for him, and hopefully she wouldn't see him again for a while. She needed time to digest everything she'd been told before she spoke with him again—if she ever spoke with him again. At the moment, she couldn't imagine her reaction if she had to listen to another taunting, derisive remark from him, when she knew now that it was all for effect, because he wanted her to despise him.

  But it wasn't all lies. What he'd told her about the way their marriage would be was undoubtedly the truth. As Nina had pointed out, most aristocratic marriages were exactly like that, though usually the terms weren't spelled out, just mutually understood. And every time he'd pushed her to break the be­trothal, he'd been expressing his true feelings. And his lecherous inclinations were also all true.

  She did stop by the training field before she left the palace. She'd been unable to resist, and in the space of minutes, she watched Vasili defeat one opponent after another with his sword skill. Some court dandy, she thought in disgust. And yet the signs that he was really quite different from that had been there all along, the military physique and bearing, the way he rode a horse, his quick re­flexes, how easily he'd ended that fight with Pavel when he'd got fed up, even the way he'd gallantly declined the use of swords, be­cause he'd known Pavel wouldn't have stood a chance with them. She'd seen only what she'd wanted to see because she hadn't wanted to be impressed.

  She really wished the queen hadn't felt the need for confessions. On the return trip to the Petroff home, she recalled their parting words.

  "I'd like you to be one of my ladies," the queen had told her.

  "I thank you for the offer, but I couldn't possibly accept. I have an image to maintain for Vasili, and it isn't exactly ladylike."

  Tanya had frowned. 'Then you're not going to tell him the truth?"

  "I don't see any point in doing so. It would cause one hell of a fight. He'd be furious with me; then I'd throw it back at him that he hasn't been honest either. And we'd still be right where we are now, neither of us wanting to marry the other."

  The queen hadn't been very happy with her decision, but Alexandra wasn't going to be budged from it. Nor was she going to delve any further into her own feelings. How she felt about Vasili simply didn't matter when he still didn't want to marry her. It occurred to her that there was one more thing she could do to help them both get out of this approach­ing marriage. She could refuse to cooperate with his mother's training program.

  Maria was already displeased with her. "Disgusted" might be a better word. And it was Vasili's mother who'd told him he couldn't go against his father's wishes. That was the reason he'd given for being unable to break the betrothal. But if Maria changed her mind...

  Vasili received yet another summons from his mother. He'd managed to ignore it for a day and a half, but Maria's messengers kept showing up at his house, and finally one was sent to the palace and caught him when he was with his cousin. And Stefan's saying, "I hope she's not going to appeal to me again," told him he'd better take care of it before she did.

  But he knew what the countess wanted this time. After her first note of complaint had been delivered to him two weeks ago, telling him, "The girl is impossible," and, "You're go­ing to have to talk to her," he hadn't bothered to read the others that had been sent nearly every other day. He'd merely jotted off en­couraging replies such as "You can do it, Mother," and "I'm counting on you, Mother." And once, still without reading the message, but because he knew Alexandra and he was starting to be amused by the whole thing, he'd advised, "Ignore her temper, it's mostly hot air."

  His only surprise was that Alexandra hadn't sent him some complaints as well. But expecting them was one of the reasons he had decided to stay away from her until her transformation was complete—or had failed. Having to deal with her temper would most likely provoke his own, which would lead to his wanting her again—and he was having enough difficulty dealing with that without seeing her. Fate was going to decide this thing, one way or another.

  But his mother was determined to interfere with what he'd thought was an excellent plan. Still, it was possible that he might be able to see his mother, listen to her harangue, con­vince her that she couldn't expect miracles in only two weeks, then leave before running into Alexandra. Now, if he could just resist the urge to see her ...

  At least his mother was alone when she joined him in her drawing room. He'd half ex­pected her to have Alexandra in tow, dressed in one of her new gowns that she would hate wearing. But the scene was more reminiscent of the night he'd first learned of the betrothal, except it was afternoon and Maria wasn't dressed for a social engagement—and she def­initely wasn't smiling this time.

  He tried to forestall his mother's complaints by asking, "How is the new wardrobe coming along?"

/>   Unfortunately, that topic happened to be on Maria's list. "The girl refuses to 'waste any more time,' as she puts it, with fittings, and she won't wear the several gowns that have been completed for her already."

  "Why not?"

  "They are either the wrong color, or too tight, or too loose—she never lacks for ex­cuses."

  Vasili managed to keep from grinning. "I have the feeling she's worn her breeches and shirts too long. She probably finds dresses too constraining now."

  "A lady cannot go about dressed as she does!"

  "I know, Mother."

  "She can't hold a fork or a knife without dropping it. The most disgusting words come out of her mouth when she gets the least bit frustrated. And she threatened to roast my cook!"

  That one caught his interest. "She got angry with Monsieur Garrard? Why?"

  "Because I thought she could benefit from the experience of a seven-course meal," Maria replied stiffly.

  "But that would take hours," he pointed out.

  "Exactly, and before the sixth course ar­rived, she marched into the kitchen and told Monsieur Garrard that if he sent out one more course, she'd make sure he was in it. He quit."

  "I never liked his souffle anyway," Vasili managed to say straight-faced before he burst out laughing.

  Maria glared at him, but that didn't curb his amusement. He wished he could have seen Alexandra in the kitchen. She must have been magnificent with her midnight eyes flashing, her breasts heaving...

  "How can you laugh?" Maria demanded. "She's no longer even pretending to try to cor­rect her behavior. She claims we have no right to change her."

  That sobered him, and he said quietly, "She's right, you know. We don't have the right to try to change her."

  Apparently that wasn't what his mother was hoping to hear, because she said, in an of­fended tone, "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

  "What?"

  "That I made a mistake, that I never should have insisted you collect a bride sight un­seen."

  "Is that what you're saying?"