Page 25 of Secret Fire


  From downstairs, the crash of the kitchen door could be heard throughout the whole house. Three more crashes followed, though not nearly so loud, as several women in the kitchen were so startled that they dropped what they had been holding.

  Every eye was on the Prince, framed in the doorway, though a few spared a glance for the broken hinge dangling from the door. Every eye, that is, except Katherine’s. She didn’t bother to look up, not when he appeared so dramatically, not when he crossed the kitchen to stand above her, not when he dropped to his knees beside her. She knew he was there. His presence had always been unmistakable, even when she couldn’t see him. She simply didn’t care. If he had come last night, she probably would have cried on his shoulder. Now he could go to the devil. Too late was too late.

  “Katya?”

  “Go away, Alexandrov.”

  “Katya, please—I didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what? That I was here? I happen to know otherwise. I happen to know that witch relative of yours told you everything.”

  She still hadn’t looked up at him. Her hair, loose beneath the kerchief tied round her head, fell forward over both shoulders, partially concealing her face as she bent over still scrubbing the floor. The dress she wore wasn’t hers and was so filthy that it reeked. Dimitri felt like killing someone, but first he had to take care of Katherine.

  “She told me that you were sleeping with the servants, not that she put you there. I thought it was your choice, Katya, just as before, that you were again refusing any amenity I offered you. She told me you had run away and she had put you to work here. She said you didn’t refuse the work. Again I thought it was your choice.”

  “Which shows what you get for thinking, Alexandrov, a total waste of time for you.”

  “At least look at me when you insult me.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Katya, I didn’t know you were beaten!” he said in exasperation.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Must I strip you to see for myself?”

  “All right! So I have a few bruises. It doesn’t hurt anymore, so your concern is a bit late, not to mention rather dubious.”

  “You think I wanted this to happen?”

  “I think your concern was aptly shown when you didn’t bother to explain to your aunt why you brought me here. That, Alexandrov, sums it up nicely.”

  “Look at me!”

  She tossed her head back, her eyes cutting into his, bright, glassy, very close to betraying her. “Are you happy? Let me know when you’ve seen enough. I have work to do.”

  “You’re coming with me, Katya.”

  “Not on your life.” But Katherine wasn’t quick enough in moving back from him. Dimitri pulled her to her feet and just as swiftly had her up in his arms. “My back, you beast! Don’t touch my back!”

  “Then hold onto my neck, little one, because I’m not putting you down.”

  She glared at him, but it was useless. She had gone through too much pain to put up with any more if she didn’t have to. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he immediately lowered his arm to her hips, supporting her firmly there and beneath her thighs.

  “I’ll have you know this means nothing,” Katherine hissed as he started out of the kitchen. “If I weren’t afraid of hurting myself, I’d clobber you.”

  “When you are feeling better, I will remind you. I will even have a cane fetched and stand fast while you do your worst. It’s no more than I deserve.”

  “Oh, shut up, shut up—”

  Katherine didn’t finish. The tears had started again, and she squeezed Dimitri’s neck tighter, hiding her face in the curve.

  He stopped by the broken door, and there was a world of difference in the tone of his voice as he rapped out an order to two maids. “I want a bath and brandy in my room immediately.”

  Katherine stirred herself enough to protest that. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in your room, so if that’s for me—”

  “The White Room,” Dimitri corrected himself sharply. “And a doctor here within the hour. You and you”—he fixed the two maids with his hard gaze—“come with me to assist her.”

  “I can assist myself, Dimitri. I’ve been doing it long enough now to have got the hang of it nicely, thank you.”

  He ignored her, as did the maids who jumped to follow his orders. There was a collective sigh in the kitchen once the Prince was gone. There were also a lot of “I told you so” expressions on those who had tended to believe the Englishwoman. Nadezhda wasn’t one of them. She demolished the lump of dough she had been kneading, incensed by the scene she had just witnessed. But ruining the dough got her a scolding from the cook, which she replied to sharply, which got her a slap, which was silently applauded by one and all, for no one particularly cared for Nadezhda and her surly ways.

  Upstairs in the White Room, Dimitri gently set Katherine down on the bed, receiving no thanks for his care. The maids hurried to fill her bath, the one thing she wasn’t about to refuse, not having had a decent bath since Dimitri had gone. The brandy was refused, however, the glass shoved away with annoyance, and she was most certainly annoyed.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re proving with all this attention, Alexandrov. I would just as soon you had left me where I was. After all, kitchen work is just another new experience for me, and you have pointed out how you are responsible for all my new experiences since I met you. How much I have to thank you for.”

  Dimitri flinched. He could see now that in this sarcastic mood of hers, trying to talk to her would be useless. He could have told her it was his base cowardice in not wanting to face her after their night together that had led to his thoughtless flight. But that night was the last thing he wanted to remind her of now. That would only be adding fuel to the fire.

  “The bath is ready, my lord,” Ludmilla offered hesitantly.

  “Good, then get rid of that rag she is wearing and—”

  “Not with you in here!” Katherine cut in heatedly.

  “Very well, I’ll leave. But you will let the doctor examine you when he arrives.”

  “It isn’t necessary.”

  “Katya!”

  “Oh, all right, I’ll see the blasted doctor. But don’t bother coming back yourself, Alexandrov. I have nothing more to say to you.”

  Dimitri went through the connecting door to his room, but just before he closed it, a gasp from one of the maids made him look back, and he was treated to the sight of Katherine’s dress falling to her waist. Bile rose up in his throat. The full view of her back was literally a maze of blue, brown, and yellow, with deepest purple in long straight lines where each blow had welted her.

  He shut the door, his head leaning against it, his eyes tightly closed. No wonder she had refused to listen to him. What she must have suffered, and all because of his neglect! And she had let him off easily. She hadn’t even screamed at him. Oh, God, he wished she had screamed at him. At least then there might have been some hope of reaching her, making her understand that he would do anything to turn back the clock, to take away her pain, that the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Sweet Christ, all he had ever wanted to do was love her. Now he had sunk so far beneath her contempt that he wasn’t even worthy of her hate.

  Dimitri found his aunt in the library. She was standing by the window looking out at the orchard, her back tense, her hands clasped tightly before her. She was expecting him. Nothing escaped her notice in this house, and he knew she had probably been told word for word everything he and Katherine had said to each other in the kitchen. She was anticipating the worst. But Dimitri’s anger was deep and self-directed. Only a small portion was reserved for his aunt.

  Quietly he moved up beside her and stood looking out at the same view, but without seeing it. The tiredness he had hoped for earlier surrounded him now, weighing down his shoulders.

  “I leave a woman here in the security of my own home and return to find she has been put through hell. Why, Aunt Sonya? Nothin
g Katherine could have done could have warranted such treatment.”

  Sonya was relieved by his soft tone, and deceived into thinking he wasn’t as upset as had been reported. “You told me she wasn’t important, Mitya,” she reminded him.

  He sighed. “Yes, I did say that, in anger, but did that give you the right to abuse her? I also told you she wasn’t your concern. Why in God’s name did you involve yourself?”

  “I found her coming out of your room. I thought she might have stolen something from you.”

  He turned toward her incredulously. “Steal from me? Oh, Christ! Steal from me! She has refused everything I have tried to give her. She spits on my wealth.”

  “How could I have known that? I only wanted to have her searched. The matter would have ended there if she hadn’t turned so belligerent about it. How could I ignore such rudeness to me in front of the servants?”

  “She is a free woman, an Englishwoman. She isn’t subject to the archaic rules and customs of this country.”

  “Who is she then, Mitya?” Sonya demanded. “Who is she besides your mistress?”

  “She’s not my mistress. I wish she were, but she’s not. I don’t really know who she is, probably some English lord’s bastard, but that doesn’t matter. She plays the role of a grand lady, true, but I tolerate it. She had no reason to suppose she need modify her attitude here, even for you. But most important she was under my protection. Sweet Christ, Aunt Sonya, she is such a tiny, delicate woman. Didn’t it occur to you that such a beating could have damaged her permanently? Crippled her even?”

  “It might have, if she had shown even a modicum of delicacy, but she didn’t. Just three days after her beating she was racing across the countryside on the back of a horse.”

  “An act of desperation.”

  “Nonsense, Mitya. It was only a little beating. If she had really been hurt by it, she wouldn’t have been capable—”

  “Not hurt!” he exploded, finally giving Sonya a glimpse of his true emotional state. “Come with me!”

  He took her wrist and pulled her behind him up the stairs and into the White Room, where he threw open the door to the bathchamber. Katherine shrieked, sinking down into the water, but Dimitri crossed to the rub and firmly lifted her up, presenting her back to Sonya. He got a soapy washcloth slapped across his neck and chest for the trouble.

  “Damn you, Alexandrov—”

  “I’m sorry, little one, but my aunt was under the illusion that she hadn’t really hurt you.”

  He set her back down in the water and quickly closed the door, though he could still hear Katherine’s furious disclaimer. “I’m fine now, you dolt! I told you that! You think a St. John can’t tolerate a little pain?”

  He didn’t have to labor the point with Sonya. She had paled as much as he had upon seeing the result of her handiwork. He took her elbow and led her out of the room, but stopped at the top of the stairs.

  “It was my intention, Aunt Sonya, to leave Katherine here at Novii Domik for several weeks until—well, the reason isn’t important. But that is still my intention. Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if you visited one of your nieces for a while.”

  “Yes, I’ll leave today… Mitya, I didn’t realize… She seemed so sturdy, despite… I know that is no excuse—” She hurried away, unable to finish, unable to face Dimitri’s condemnation a moment longer.

  She was like so many nobles of the old school, committing atrocities in a moment of anger, regretting it later, when it was too late.

  “No, that is no excuse. Aunt Sonya,” Dimitri murmured bitterly to himself. “There is no excuse.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Monday

  My Lord Prince,

  As soon as you departed for Moscow, the young miss left her bed and would not return to it under any circumstances (her words, my lord). She spent the remainder of the day in the garden, pruning and weeding and cutting flowers for the house. The flowers are everywhere now, in every room. There are none left in the garden.

  Her attitude has not changed. She will not speak to me at all. She speaks to the maids only to tell them to leave her alone. Marusia has had no luck either in getting her to talk. She wouldn’t go near the account books you left for her to work on.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Tuesday

  My Lord Prince,

  Nothing has changed, except she did explore the house today, although she asked no questions, not even about the family portraits she found in the library. In the afternoon she walked to the village, but found it empty, since the harvesting has begun. She refused the use of one of your horses for this excursion. Rodion accompanied her, since she seems less hostile to him than anyone else. The purpose of her visit was to apologize to Savva and Parasha for taking their horse.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Wednesday

  My Lord Prince,

  This morning the young miss took two books from the library and spent the remainder of the day in her room reading. Marusia still cannot get her to talk, and she looks at me as if I’m not there.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Thursday

  My Lord Prince,

  She stayed in her room the entire day reading, not even coming out to eat. When Marusia took her meals to her, she reported that the miss seemed more distracted than usual.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Friday

  My Lord Prince,

  Today the young miss disturbed the entire household with her demands. She wanted every servant brought before her to relate his or her duties and when she was finished, she informed me that Novii Domik has too many servants doing useless jobs and that I should find them more worthwhile employment.

  Her attitude is much improved, if you can call a return to her imperious nature an improvement. Marusia swears her depression is finally over. Even her peculiar habit of talking to herself has returned.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Saturday

  My Lord Prince,

  The young miss spent most of the day watching the villagers work in the fields and even tried helping, though she stopped when she realized she was only in the way. When Parasha invited her to the communal bath, she declined, yet on returning to the house, she made use of your steamroom and even had cold water poured on her afterward. Her laughter over this experience was contagious. Nearly everyone was seen smiling afterward.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Sunday

  My Lord Prince,

  After church, your account books were delivered to the young miss’s room at her request. You were right, my lord. She couldn’t resist the challenge for long.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Monday

  My Lord Prince,

  I am sorry to inform you that my wife had the misguided notion that the young miss would be pleased to know about the daily reports you requested. That was not the case. She has let me know in no uncertain terms what she thinks of my spying, as she calls it. Furthermore, since she knows that I won’t end the reports at her request, she said that when I write tonight, I should tell you that although she hasn’t tallied any exact figures yet, in glancing through your account books, she has already surmised that four of your investments are worthless, a steady drain on your capital that you can’t hope to see a profit from in the near future, if ever. These are her words, my lord, not mine. If you ask me, it is impossible for her to have drawn these conclusions in such a short time, if she even knows what she’s talking about.

  Your servant,

  Vladimir Kirov

  Dimitri gave a short bark of laughter after finishing this letter. Two of those bad investments Katherine had found were no doubt the factories he considered his charities, for each year they fell just short of breaking even. Yet they each employed a large work force, and he c
ouldn’t see himself closing them down and putting all those people out of work. He had planned to make the necessary changes eventually, to make the factories self-supporting as well as profitable, even if he had to change the goods manufactured. He had just never found the time to devote to such an undertaking.

  He had known Katherine would discover the loss from those factories easily if she was as good as she claimed to be at figures. But the other two? He wondered if he should write her to discuss them? Would she even read a letter from him? Just because she had deigned to go over the account books when she had said she wouldn’t touch them, did not necessarily mean she was ready to forgive him. She had made it quite clear before he left that she would be most happy if she never laid eyes on him again.

  “So I have finally tracked you down. I tried every club, every restaurant, every party currently in progress. Never would I have thought to find you at home—”

  “Vasya!”

  “And attending to correspondence, no less,” Vasili finished with a grin, coming forward to clasp Dimitri in a powerful bear hug.

  Dimitri was delighted by the surprise. He hadn’t seen his friend since early March. Before he had left for England, he had been so tied up in his courtship of Tatiana that he had found little time for Vasili, a mistake he wouldn’t let happen again. Of all his friends this one was the most dear, the one who most understood him. Not quite as tall as Dimitri, with coal black hair and light blue eyes, a devilish combination according to the ladies, Vasili Dashkov was the charmer, the carefree soul, exactly the opposite of Dimitri. Yet they were so attuned, they could read each other’s minds more often than not.

  “So what took you so long? I have been back for nearly a month.”