The Beloved Scoundrel

  “Certainly.” Sandor inclined his head respectfully to Gregor. “If you will follow me?”

  “What is a belka?”

  “It is an outsider, anyone who does not belong to us.”

  The term was certainly fitting. She had never felt more the outsider than in this strange land. She returned to the subject Sandor had interrupted. “Why did she wish them to think her dead?” she asked Gregor as they followed the young man down a labyrinth of corridors.

  “She told you. She could not bear it.” He shook his head. “She should never have gone to Cambaron, but she was young and willful and would not listen. Her blood was hot, and when she met Jordan’s father, she thought only of—” He stopped and nodded his head at Sandor a few yards ahead. “I should not say more now. The ravin should be spoken of with respect before her subjects.”

  The ravin, Jordan’s mother, the woman who had come back to life. Marianna’s mind was whirling as she murmured, “Jordan said his mother departed this life when he was two.”

  He chuckled. “Did he indeed? Jordan never likes to lie.”

  “She left him. She left her child.” She shook her head. “How could she do that? If she wasn’t happy, why didn’t she take him when she left Cambaron?”

  His smile faded. “He was the future Duke of Cambaron. She would never have been permitted to take him with her. She was not even allowed to take him for a walk without a maid in attendance. She would not have been permitted to leave herself, so the deceit was necessary. She knew Jordan would be well cared for and never want for anything.”

  Except a mother.

  Everyone walks away eventually.

  When Jordan had said those cynical words, she had never dreamed he had also included his mother.

  “Do not condemn her.” Gregor’s gaze was on her face. “It was not a good thing she did, and it brought her much pain. But, for Ana, it was the only thing to do.”

  She remembered the impression of challenge and tension she had received when Jordan and his mother had confronted each other. “I don’t think Jordan understands that either.”

  “The emotions between them are not easy to define. They are much alike.”

  “When did he learn she was alive?”

  “When he was a lad of nineteen. We had been watching and receiving reports on him through the years, and Ana decided we could wait no longer.” He grimaced. “He was rapidly acquiring all the vices of his father and putting them to use with all the vigor of his mother. She sent me to England to school him.”

  “Will this be suitable?” Sandor threw open a door and stepped aside. “If not, there is another down the corridor that overlooks the fountain.”

  She barely glanced at the luxurious chamber, receiving only a vague impression of pale gold draperies, light, and space. “No, this will be fine.”

  Gregor smiled. “Very good, Sandor. Thank you.”

  Sandor inclined his head and quickly strode away.

  “I will see that your bags are brought to you.” Gregor added gently, “I know that all of this is a little bewildering for you, but this is a fine place. You will like it here. I look forward to showing you my homeland.”

  “We won’t be here long. We’ll have to leave for Montavia almost immediately.”

  “It does not take long to love Kazan.” He turned. “Rest now. We usually eat at twilight. I will come and escort you to the dining hall. Do not worry about any other surprises, Ana will see that we dine alone tonight.”

  When she was alone in the room, she moved over to the bed.

  Rest? Besides her worry and tension regarding Alex, her mind was whirling with implications of the scene that had just taken place. Resentment, challenge, unquestioning affection, and loyalty had all been present in that audience chamber today, none of which should have had this impact on her. She was here to save Alex, not become involved in the tangled lives of others.

  Everyone walks away eventually.

  She would not feel sorry for that child who had been abandoned. Understanding did not bring justification. Jordan had no right to try to cage her to assure himself that she would not leave him. He had not even displayed regret and as much as said he would make the same attempt after he had freed Alex for her.

  Everyone walks away.…

  Jordan and his mother were standing talking by a huge recessed window when Gregor and Marianna walked into the dining hall. The last purple-gold rays of twilight surrounded them, and Marianna was again aware of how much alike they were. The same tall, strong body, the dark shining hair, the boldness, the wariness.

  Jordan looked up and saw her. He politely inclined his head to the ravin before he crossed the room toward them.

  “You’re comfortably settled?” he asked.

  She nodded. “What message from this Janus?”

  “Costain delivered a captive to his estate at Pekbar three days ago.”

  “Alex?”

  “It was night, and Janus wasn’t able to get a good look at him.”

  “It has to be Alex.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “Now we eat a fine dinner.” He took Marianna’s arm. “And tonight we sleep well so that we’ll be rested for our journey to Montavia tomorrow.”

  “We must make plans,” Marianna said impatiently.

  “I have a few ideas I’ll need to mull over. We’ll discuss them in the morning. The ravin is furnishing us with a large troop of men to accompany us.”

  He had addressed her not as Mother but as the ravin. He was deliberately distancing himself from her, Marianna thought as she glanced at the woman standing by the window. Ana Dvorak’s shoulders were thrown back, and she was staring indifferently at them. Yet Marianna had the impression she was not truly indifferent. Lonely? No, that was too absurd. In her white satin gown and glittering emerald coronet the woman was everything that was bold and regal.

  “Seat Marianna, Jordan.” Even as he spoke, Gregor was moving across the room toward the ravin. “I will sit by Ana. We have many things to discuss.”

  Marianna watched as Gregor bowed and said something to Jordan’s mother. She threw back her head and laughed, her expression coming vibrantly alive. He took her arm, escorted her to the head of the table, and seated her with elaborate courtesy. Every word, every gesture, reflected a familiarity of long standing.

  “They know each other well,” Marianna murmured.

  “From the cradle,” Jordan said. “They grew up together. They’re distant cousins, and Gregor’s father was the captain of the guard in the Dvorak household.”

  She looked at Gregor’s scarred face. “Was Gregor in the army too?”

  “For a number of years, but when Ana Dvorak became ravin she made him chief adviser.”

  “I don’t understand how your mother could become the ravin. Gregor said she was only a noblewoman when she married your father.”

  “In Kazan the throne doesn’t automatically pass from father to son.” Jordan seated Marianna far down the table from Gregor and his mother and then took the place across from her. Distance again, she thought absently.

  Jordan continued, “Kazan is surrounded by potential enemies and can’t afford the indulgence of a weak or foolish ruler. The Council of Nobles choose one from their ranks who they judge will be the strongest ruler. When the former ravin died, there was no ruler for two years until they finally chose Ana Dvorak.”

  “A woman?”

  “Dorothy would be scandalized by your surprise,” he said. “I’m sure she would be delighted that Kazan offers women an opportunity to prove their worth.”

  “I’m equally delighted.” She added pointedly, “It’s just not common practice for men to be fair. Even in Montavia this could not be.”

  “The council decided she had proven herself. After her father died, she had ruled her own lands for ten years and made them flourish. She rode at the head of her vassals and repelled bandits and raiders from across the border. She built bridges and aqueducts. She took care of her
sick and even opened a hospital here in Rengar. Yes, she was without a flaw.” He smiled sardonically. “Of course, there was that small mistake of a marriage in England, but that was of no account. The ceremony was not performed in the traditional Kazan manner, so it clearly was not binding.”

  “But she didn’t marry again?”

  “No.” His smile became mocking. “After being wed to my father, I’m sure she had quite enough of marriage. It would only have gotten in her way.”

  “You resent her.”

  “Do I? It’s a possibility. I also admire her. She’s a brilliant woman. She rather reminds me of you.”

  “Me?” She shook her head. “I’m nothing like her.”

  “You have the same vitality and intensity.” He paused. “And the same appetite for pleasure.”

  The sensual words came out of nowhere, catching her off guard and bringing the physical response that he had so carefully cultivated during those days at the hunting lodge, the tingling between her thighs, the swelling of her breasts. The mask was suddenly off, and this was not the man who had carefully tamped down any hint of sexuality on the journey from Cambaron but the totally erotic being he had been at Dalwynd.

  He smiled as he read her expression. “Don’t be alarmed. I intend to keep my promise. I just thought I’d remind you it’s still there, waiting. For both of us.” He glanced at the servant who had appeared at her side bearing a silver tray on which were arranged an assortment of baked meats. “Try the chicken. The ravin’s cook has created a lemon sauce that’s quite superb.”

  He wants her still.” Ana bit into a chicken wing with delicacy and gusto, her moody gaze on Jordan and Marianna. “This is not usual for Jordan.”

  “Marianna is not usual,” Gregor said. “And neither was what he felt for her.”

  “I see nothing so unusual about her.” She frowned as she studied Marianna. “Why is she fighting him?”

  “Do you suppose it could be because she regards him as the enemy? She loves her brother, and she holds Jordan responsible.”

  “He will get the boy back.”

  “And there’s the small matter of the Jedalar we are trying to steal from her.”

  Ana dismissed the argument with a wave of her hand. “We are in the right.”

  “Right is usually in the eye of the beholder.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “There are problems, but most women are taught to be guided by their bodies, not their minds.”

  “Marianna is not ‘most’ women.”

  “You said she let herself be taken by him. She is clearly a young woman with a young woman’s passions.”

  The conversation was making him uneasy. At first he had thought he had seen signs of envy, but now he realized Ana’s feelings were far more complicated. “The battle is between them, Ana. You cannot make a gift of her to him just because he wants her. You sent me to England to make sure he was not spoiled by getting everything he wanted.”

  “This is different.”

  It was different only because Ana wanted it to be different. “How would you have felt if your husband had possessed a mother who wanted him to have you, regardless of your inclination?”

  “There was no question of that,” she said bitterly. “They all hated me in England.”

  “For good reason. You were rude and wild and wanted your own way. You cannot trample over people and expect them to love you.”

  She glared at him. “I don’t trample over people.” Scowling, she then amended her own statement. “Well, not as a common practice.”

  His laughter boomed. “I admit you’ve grown gentler over the years. Now, you are more like a pouncing tiger than an attacking lion.” He looked at Marianna again. “She did a splendid panel of a tiger that reminded me of you.”

  Her attention returned immediately to the previous subject. “Jordan is generous and can be very charming. There is no reason he should not have her. She could not find a better lover or protector.”

  His laughter faded as he saw where she was drifting. There would be trouble if she decided on this course. He said slowly, “You cannot buy him, Ana.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not trying to buy him.” She lifted her chin. “I have no need to buy anyone.”

  “That is true. Now believe it yourself.” He lifted his glass of wine to his lips. “He will come to you in time.”

  “Will he?” Her lips curled bitterly. “When I am old and gray and pitiful? I’ve waited too long already. What does he want of me? I cannot be anything but what I am.”

  “Be patient. You’ve hardly been a sweet and sacrificing mother,” Gregor said mildly. “Any more than he’s been an understanding, forgiving son.”

  “I don’t want his forgiveness.”

  “Then what do you want from him?”

  She was silent a moment and then said haltingly, “He need not be so cold. It would not be too much to expect friendship, would it? After all, we do have a common goal.”

  He could sense the hurt she would never show Jordan. He wanted to reach out and touch her in comfort, but he knew she would not accept it. This wound went too deep. “It will come in time.”

  “You said that before,” she said impatiently.

  “Ah yes, you fear gray hair and creaking bones. But how can that happen when I’m going to burn all the calendars?”

  She smiled reluctantly. “Would you really do that for me, Gregor?”

  “Of course. Do you wish for a fountain of youth? I will venture forth immediately and find it for you.”

  “I’m not sure I would like to be young again. I was very stupid when I was young.”

  “We are all stupid before we gain experience.”

  “You were never stupid,” she said softly. “You were always exactly as you are now.” A shadow crossed her face. “Were you truly almost killed?”

  “No, I’ve had far greater wounds. All the blood frightened Marianna.”

  “I won’t have you die,” she said with sudden fierceness. “Do you hear me? I won’t have it. What would I do without you?” She grimaced as she realized what she had said. “You see how selfish I am. I’m not sure you’re right regarding my improvement in character.”

  “It is all you. The bad and the good combine to make the whole. It is the entire Ana Dvorak that matters.”

  She looked down into the wine in her goblet. “The entire Ana Dvorak has certain needs that you do not fulfill. Are you going to come to me tonight?”

  “No.”

  Her hand tightened on her goblet. “I will not wait forever for you.”

  “This is very good wine. Your own vineyards?”

  “Yes. You injure my pride by your refusal. Other men desire me.”

  “I desire you.” He smiled at her. “How could I not desire you? You are everything that a man could want in a woman.”

  “Then why do you— I will not humble myself again like this.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because you know that no one loves you as I do. You are curious to know how it would feel to bed a man whose love is as great as mine.”

  She smiled beguilingly. “If you truly love me, you will come to my bed.”

  “It is because I love you that I do not. Sadly it is as bad for your character to indulge your every wish as it was for Jordan.”

  “I am not Jordan.”

  She did not realize how much she resembled Jordan in this moment. Green eyes glittering with annoyance, the beautiful mouth tight with willfulness, the explosive energy lying just beneath the surface. The only difference was that Jordan masked his emotions beneath that air of cynicism, and Ana hid hers behind a wall of pride.

  “No, Ana,” he said gently.

  A mixture of disappointment and anger flared in her expression. “I’m not a nun. Do you want to know how many men I have had in my bed since last I saw you?”

  “No, I do not want to know.”

  “When I go back to my rooms tonight,
I will send for a man who does not find me—”

  “No, you will not.” His gaze met her own. “Not while I am here.”

  “You cannot expect me to—” She broke off and then nodded jerkily, her voice uneven, “Not while you are here. Never while you are here.” She glanced quickly away from him. “You are a very difficult man, mado.”

  “I am a very simple man.”

  “Who must always have his way.” She squared her shoulders and smiled recklessly. “Well, I will not be defeated on all fronts. I think I must see that Jordan is made happy, if I am not.”

  He should have known she would return to do battle. “You took away his mother, and now you wish to provide him a mistress to soothe the hurt? It is not a trade you can make, Ana.”

  “You will not allow it?”

  He nodded at Marianna. “She will not allow it.”

  Ana’s gaze raked the delicacy of Marianna’s features, the fragility of her small body. “I doubt if she’s a match for me. I think I must accompany you on this journey to Montavia. Nebrov will hesitate to attack if I am along.”

  “I am not so confident.”

  She smiled brilliantly. “And besides, I must be there to protect you in case your wits fail you again. Yes, I will definitely go to Montavia.”

  He opened his lips to argue with her and then closed them. Perhaps Ana should go with them. Marianna’s will was strong enough to resist Ana’s coercion, and, for all he knew, Ana’s effort might bring about the prize she wanted most in the world. A common goal, she had said, meaning the defeat of Napoleon, but now Marianna offered the possibility of another common goal.

  Poor dove, he was about to offer her up to the tigers.

  “Why are you not arguing with me?” she asked warily.

  “But I want you to go to Montavia.” He smiled at her and added with complete truthfulness, “I always want you with me, Ana.”

  The morning was frigid, and the breaths of the horses milling about the courtyard were like plumes of smoke. Marianna was mounted and waiting impatiently when Jordan came out of the palace.

  He was dressed all in black even to the seal fur on the collar of his cloak, and he appeared lean, tough, and faintly sinister in the early light.