"I'm telling you that you can't marry this girl. She doesn't want to learn how to be a lady. All she wants to do is muck about in a stable. Stefan will agree. We can't have someone like that in the family."
"Stefan won't care one way or the other— what about my father's honor?"
"Vasili, I promise you, your father would break that betrothal himself if he were alive today. He made a contract in good faith, but Baron Rubliov broke that faith by allowing his girl to turn out as she has. And you needn't hide your relief for my sake. I know this is what you've been waiting to hear."
It was indeed, but now that he'd heard it, he wasn't reacting as he'd imagined he would. Instead he felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his belly.
"Where is she?"
"Locked in her room," Maria replied. "She has been there since early yesterday morning, which is why I sent for you. She won't open the door. She won't even answer inquiries. I've never known anyone who could be so willfully stubborn."
Neither had he. "I'll take care of it," he said on his way out of the room.
"Good," she huffed. "And you can also make the arrangements to send her home. I've already told ..."
He didn't hear the rest of what she was saying because he had already started to run. Even as a child, he'd never reached the upper floors so quickly. That he didn't know which room was Alexandra's didn't slow him down, but it was fortunate that an upstairs maid appeared to point him in the right direction, or he would have broken down every closed door in the house, locked or not.
Hers was still locked and she wouldn't answer his demands to open it. It didn't take him long to break it down, because his fury was mounting at what he knew he would find. His Alex had too much courage to hide behind locked doors. And he was right. She wasn't there. The room was empty of her possessions, too. Then he saw the letter propped against the pillows on the bed. And next to it lay the ring he had given her.
Your mother has told me that you can't marry me, Petroff, so I am released from my promise. In your happiness over this news, I hope you will grant me a favor. It is too soon for my horses to travel again, so I ask that you allow them to remain in your stable until I send for them. I have left their grooms to see to their care. If you don't agree, inform the head groom, Bulavin, and he will make other arrangements.
Now I must tell you how sorry I am for all the trouble I put you through. Please be assured that I bear you no grudge. In fact, I wish you well, Petrojf.
Vasili read the letter a second time, then a third, but it still didn't sound like Alexandra. The words were too stiff, and the sentiment? She bore him no grudge, was sorry, actually wished him well? Not his Alex. And how did she dare to leave? How did she dare to assume that his mother's word was the final word? He hadn't released her from her promise.
To hell with fate. Give it a chance, and damned if it didn't suit you.
34
She left her horses with me, even the two stallions," Vasili said, his voice still expressing disbelief. "They mean everything to her. How could she leave them?"
Stefan led Vasili to a chair in the audience room, where his closest friends were gathered; he even pushed him down into it, but this was the second time he had done so, and he doubted his cousin would remain there for long this time either. Vasili was angry, yet he was bewildered, too, and it wasn't a combination that sat well with him.
"Try thinking about it logically," Stefan suggested. "She would leave them because she does care so much for them, and it's the middle of winter."
Stefan had been allowed to read the note Alexandra had left; he'd had it thrust into his hands, actually. They had all read it, though Vasili hadn't noticed it being passed between Serge and Lazar, he'd been pacing so hard.
"Besides the weather," Lazar added, "the reason she gives is a sound one. It's too soon to take them on another long, grueling trip."
Vasili shot back to his feet for some more pacing. "Then she would have stayed with them until they could travel with her."
"When your mother told her that there would be no marriage?" Serge reminded him. "The girl probably assumed she was no longer welcome."
"Then perhaps she didn't go far," Stefan said. "She could still be in the city."
Vasili shook his head. "No, her man, Bulavin, said she left Cardinia, that she won't be back, not even to collect the horses. She's going to send for them."
Tanya had just finished reading the note and looked up. "Obviously Alexandra trusts you to keep them safe for her, Vasili."
He snorted. "She doesn't."
"I have reason to believe she does," Tanya said.
That arrested him, and his golden eyes settled on her intently. "What reason?"
"It's just an ... impression I got, after talking to her," she said evasively.
"You mean she didn't drag my name through the mud?" he asked sarcastically.
She smiled gently at his remark. "Actually, your name might have gotten a few sprinkles of dirt on it. After all, she can't help thinking you're a lecher, when it's a well-established fact that you are."
His reply was indignant. "I'll have you know I haven't touched another woman since I met her."
It was Serge who caught the implication in that. "Another woman?"
"Oh, Vasili." Tanya sighed now in disappointment. "Don't tell me you seduced that innocent girl when you had no intention of marrying her."
And from Lazar: "Jesus, Vasili, when did you manage that, as cramped as the accommodations were on the whole trip?"
Vasili was flushing with heat by then. "It was hardly a seduction when—never mind. It doesn't matter, since I am going to marry her."
"You are?" more than one of them asked incredulously.
And Stefan said calmly, if a bit dryly, "I suppose this means you're leaving again."
Vasili nodded. "Within the hour. I only came here to tell you."
"It's late afternoon," Lazar said. "Shouldn't we wait until morning?"
"Not when she left early yesterday—and I wasn't inviting you," Vasili retorted.
"But you'll take him," Stefan said in a tone that would brook no argument, "and an extra complement of men with him. There's no point in inviting more trouble from our annoying friends in the mountains."
"That's if she's gone home," Vasili said.
"What makes you think she hasn't?" Serge asked.
"Because her groom wouldn't give me a straight answer about it, even after I threatened to rearrange his face for him. And she left her trunks behind, every one of them. She's traveling light this time, taking only the Cossacks and her maid with her."
"Which could mean she's merely in a hurry to get home," Serge said.
"Then why not make arrangements to have the wagons follow her?"
"I wouldn't say that's conclusive," Stefan pointed out.
"I know," Vasili agreed. "Which is why I'll be looking for her trail. I wish she had taken the stallions, though. At least people notice and remember them."
"You're not suggesting she knew you would follow her, are you?" Lazar asked in surprise. "That she's going to be covering her tracks?"
"She knows we're not finished. Maybe she won't admit it, but deep down she—"
"Vasili, she doesn't want to marry you," Lazar cut in to remind him. "And she assumed you felt the same way, since that's the only impression you've given her. If she's thinking anything, it's that your mother did you both a favor. Thaf s what you were counting on, if you'll recall."
The reminder just got Lazar a glower, at which point Tanya asked, "Vasili, do you know why she didn't want to marry you, even before she met you? I asked her, but she said the reason was too embarrassing for her to mention."
Vasili was shaking his head, but Lazar supplied the answer. "She's in love with some Englishman she met on her coming out in St. Petersburg—or at least she says she is."
Vasili received that news with a mixture of incredulity and raging jealousy, and both had him shouting, "How the hell
do you know that?"
"Unlike you, I was curious why she didn't fall at your feet the way most women do, so I asked."
"She told you that?"
"Of course not," Lazar replied. "You know she rarely even spoke to me in passing. No, I asked her maid, Nina, one day, and she treated the subject as if it were a long-standing point of contention."
"Meaning?"
"Her disgust was pretty obvious. Nina thinks that whatever it is Alexandra feels for this Christopher Leighton, it certainly can't be true love. And she's of the opinion that it's only Alexandra's stubbornness that has had her maintaining loyalty to this fellow after so many years."
"Did the maid give a reason for these opinions, Lazar?" Stefan questioned.
"Because Alexandra simply went on with her life, without a single bit of pining."
"Just how many years are we talking about?" Serge asked next.
"Seven."
"Jesus," Vasili groaned.
"Well, that explains her embarrassment,"
Tanya said. "And I'm inclined to agree with the maid."
Vasili glanced her way. "Why?"
"Oh, just the impression I got/' Tanya said evasively once again.
"Now, don't be giving my wife hot looks, cousin," Stefan said, trying not to find any humor in Vasili's predicament, though it really was priceless. The man who could have almost any woman he wanted couldn't keep track of the one he had decided to settle down with, or get a declaration from her other than that she didn't want him. "If Tanya found out something in confidence, you can't expect her to tell you about it."
The hell he couldn't. Vasili demanded, "Whose side is she on, anyway?"
"Yours," Tanya assured him with a grin. "Which is why I'm delighted that you've decided you want to marry her. I think she'll make you a splendid wife, Vasili."
He gave her a reproachful look. "But you aren't going to tell me why you think so, are you?"
"No. But I'm sure it won't take you long to find out from Alexandra—if you can find her."
35
Alexandra found another month of traveling a daunting prospect. That was about how long it was going to take her to reach England. Nor did she like riding unfamiliar horses on this trip. They'd no sooner left Cardinia than she began to miss her own. So she was as relieved as Nina was to meet up with Lady Beatrice Haversham in Warsaw and be invited to continue their journey in her carriage.
Lady Beatrice was in her mid-forties, was wide of girth, and still wore her blond hair in the fashion of her youth, which wasn't as ridiculous-looking as it might have been, thanks to her laughing gray eyes. Amazingly, she had recognized Alexandra from her one season in St. Petersburg. The English lady and her husband, who was now deceased, had been visiting the city with friends at the time, and she had noted Alexandra at several functions, including Olga Romanovsky's lavish dinner party, the disastrous one which had led to Alexandra's unofficial ousting from St. Petersburg.
But it was that very party that was responsible for Lady Beatrice's recognizing Alexandra. To hear her say it, "I've never laughed so hard, my dear, and I hope you don't mind, but I regaled all my friends at home with that story. You were so wonderfully ingenious to sound so sincere when you told Princess Olga how she might lose some weight. All my friends found it hilarious, and I do so love to make people laugh."
Alexandra didn't bother to mention that she had been sincere in her suggestion, nor did she relate the repercussions that had followed. And although she had no memory of the Englishwoman herself, she grew fond of her as they traveled to England together. Beatrice really did love to laugh, and she found humor in just about everything. She even mistook Alexandra's frankness for a droll wit and claimed the ton was going to adore her. And another benefit the lady supplied was that her presence put an end to, or at least subdued, all the complaints Alexandra had been receiving from Nina and her brothers about her decision to find Christopher, complaints she refused to listen to.
Beatrice only vaguely remembered meeting Christopher while in Russia, and didn't know him personally. Yet she assured Alexandra that she was acquainted with people who would know him; and as it happened, it took her only two days after they finally arrived in London to show up at Alexandra's hotel with his address.
Checking with the embassy herself, since that was the only address he had ever used on his letters from England, had gained Alexandra nothing. He was presently between assignments, was all she could get out of the harried clerk she'd spoken to, and no, they weren't in the habit of handing out personal information about their diplomats. Try the ton directory, like everyone else.
Thanks to Lady Beatrice, she didn't have to deal with any more rude officials. And sooner than she might have expected, she was on her way to Christopher's aunfs home, where he was living, which was fortunately right there in London.
Nina had suggested she wait until the next morning to go, because it was evening by the time she was ready, but Alexandra couldn't afford to wait. Before they had left the Continent to sail for England—which had been a nightmare of sickness for her—she had known she was going to have Vasili's baby. And that baby needed a father. She would, of course, be honest about it with Christopher. And although that might complicate things, she didn't for a moment regret her condition. She was, in fact, absolutely thrilled about it.
The aunt's town house was ablaze with lights, and the numerous carriages dropping off their occupants indicated that some type of entertainment was going on, the fancy clothes suggesting something formal. Alexandra had had several days to shop while waiting for their ship to sail, and had found three partial-made dresses to add to the few she had stuffed into her valise for the trip. Nina had finished them on the voyage—her own sewing skills were atrocious. One was a lovely evening gown in rose and navy silk. She hadn't thought she would need it tonight, however, and she was barely let in the door in her green wool dress, despite the sable fur trim on her coat.
The dress was suitable for visiting, but not for a ball, which was what the Leightons were giving. It got her stiffly escorted to an empty room away from the guests, a library by the looks of it, where she was told to wait.
And she waited. An hour passed and still she waited. But she didn't mind. Now that she was about to see Christopher again after all these years, she wasn't impatient. She wasn't much of anything, actually, not nervous, not even excited.
She found that rather strange, but attributed it to the deep melancholy she had fallen into since leaving Cardinia, and she attributed that to having to leave her horses behind. It certainly wasn't because she missed Vasili, because she didn't. She rarely even thought of him more than a dozen times a day anymore. But considering the hopelessness she had experienced in Cardinia and the melancholy she was feeling now, it was no wonder she was drained of emotion.
Lady Beatrice had kept Alexandra's sadness at bay with her gregarious good cheer, and so did Alexandra's own thoughts of the baby. But not much else did. Yet the fact that she was about to see Christopher again should have given her such joy. Why didn't it? "Alexandra, is that really you?" She hadn't heard the door opening and closing behind her, but she turned to find Christopher coming toward her with open arms, his expression proclaiming his delight at seeing her again. The years had barely changed him, though he would be thirty-five now. And he was perhaps even more handsome than she remembered, the extra fullness in his face and body improving his appearance—he'd been too lean before. He looked as distinguished as she recalled, with his dark brown hair and eyes, and his impeccable black evening attire. But his height of five feet ten inches seemed not so tall to her now, and ...
He was hugging her too tightly. And before she had caught her breath from that, he was kissing her, and all she wanted to do was push away from him. What was wrong with her? This was Christopher, whom she loved, and apparently he was overjoyed that she had come to him, so everything was going to be all right. Then why didn't she feel as if it was?
And she had always been thrilled by his kisses, yet nothing stirred within her, not even a flicker of the desire Vasili could spark. But she wouldn't think of him now—not now.
She managed to extricate her lips long enough to ask, "So you still love me?"
"Of course I still love you, darling. How could you doubt it?"
She could give a number of reasons, but decided sarcasm wasn't called for. Her frankness was, however, and she asked the question that should have been asked years ago. "Then are you prepared to marry me?"
He let go of her in surprise, but then he laughed. "I see you haven't changed. You still say exactly what's on your mind, no matter the consequences."
She could have told him that wasn't exactly true anymore. Some things she'd been managing to keep to herself recently. The Razins didn't know about the baby yet. And Vasili never knew how she really felt about him— She was doing it again, letting him into her thoughts when he should be the farthest thing from her mind right now.
"You haven't answered my question, Christopher."
"But you can't be serious," he said in a gentle, though no less scoffing, tone. "I was hoping you were going to tell me you were married, so we could finally be together."
Since that didn't make the least bit of sense to her, she was forced to ask, "What exactly does that mean?"
"Come now, Alexandra, you know love and marriage are rarely compatible. And I learned firsthand how promiscuous and amoral you Russian ladies are. I had hoped you would marry so we could have an affair. I thought you understood we could only be lovers."
She didn't need him to clarify that, since it was perfectly clear, but the mild shock she experienced made her remark, "Actually, I expected us to marry."
"Good God, you can't be that stupid."
She winced. "Oh, but I—was, obviously."
"But, my dear, you must know you're too unconventional. That habit you have of saying exactly what you think or feel would be ruinous to my career."
"I must still be rather stupid, because I don't understand why you continued to write me, to send me poetry and words of love."