Satin Ice

  "But Russia was so far." The child cast another glance at her father.

  "Go to your tent, Etaine," Monteith said. "Now."

  Etaine shivered but then turned to look defiantly at her father. "No." Her voice was a mere breath of sound, but her deep blue eyes were blazing in her pale face. "I won't obey you. Not any longer. I'm going with Silver."

  Monteith went still, his gaze searching Etaine's face. "Are you, indeed? How interesting," he commented lightly.

  Nicholas stepped in front of Monteith. "Take her to the carriage, Mikhail." He stared at Monteith. "You're not going to stop us, Monteith."

  "Am I attempting to do so?" Monteith watched as Mikhail gathered Etaine in his arms and strode down the aisle and out of the tent with Valentin following closely behind. "I have no objections at the moment. In fact, I approve."

  Silver gasped in disbelief. Whatever reaction she expected from Etaine's father, it was not this one. "We're not going to give Etaine up either now or later, you know."

  Monteith's narrow-eyed gaze shifted to Silver. "No, I don't suppose you will. You always were an obstinate young woman. But that won't be a real problem. When I want Etaine back, I'll simply take her. Until that time, I'll permit you to keep her. I think you'll be good for Etaine during this period." He smiled gently. "And a fond father always wants what's best for his child, of course."

  Silver didn't know what to say. She gazed at him in bewilderment before turning on her heel and hurrying down the aisle.

  Nicholas hesitated. He could understand Silver's confusion; this had all been too easy. "Don't come after us, Monteith. It would be exceptionally bad for your health." He waited, but Monteith's only response was that same faint smile.

  As Nicholas left the tent, there was a rush of sound when the crowd in the tiers seemed to move as one, restless now on the hard benches. Monteith didn't move from the center of the ring. He stood straight and majestic beneath the harsh light of the lanterns that painted shadows of darkness on his fine-boned features.

  Etaine was cuddled close against Silver when Nicholas entered the carriage and sat down opposite them next to Valentin.

  Mikhail scarcely waited until the door was closed to whip the horses into a brisk trot.

  "Well, that was no problem," Valentin said. "I confess I'm a little disappointed. I expected more excitement."

  "It's not over." A frown wrinkled Nicholas's brow. "Monteith was entirely too accommodating. I don't like it."

  "Neither do I." Silver's arm tightened around Etaine. "He seemed to want us to take her. Do you think he means to ask Peskov to intercede to have her returned to him?"

  "We'll know tomorrow." Nicholas's eyes shifted to the child next to her. "You haven't introduced us, Silver." He smiled at Etaine with heart-stopping charm. "Your servant, Mademoiselle Etaine. My name is Nicholas Savron, and I have the honor of being the husband of your friend Silver."

  Etaine's gaze flew to Silver's face. "Truly? I didn't even know you were affianced. You didn't tell me—"

  Silver was laughing as she hugged Etaine. "What you mean is that you thought no sane man would risk marrying a virago like me. Perhaps Nicholas is not as sane as most men."

  "Stung again. Someday you're going to find one sterling quality in my iniquitous character," Nicholas murmured, his gaze lingering on Silver's face before shifting back to Etaine. "At any rate, since our fates seem to be entwined through Silver, I hope we can be friends."

  Etaine studied him for a moment, and Nicholas became aware of how keen and unchildlike was her regard. Then Etaine smiled and he felt as if he had been given a very rare and special gift. "I would like that very much ... Nicholas."

  "It's my custom to protect my friends. And I'd like to protect you, Etaine, but I need your help. Do you know why your father let you go so easily tonight?"

  Etaine shook her head.

  "He's a most unusual man," Nicholas murmured. "I don't understand him."

  "No one does," Etaine said simply. "But he won't give up. He never gives up."

  Nicholas smiled gently. "Well, neither will we." He turned to Valentin. "I think we should find out more about Paul Monteith. Will you speak to my attorneys tomorrow and have them make inquiries into Monteith's background?" He paused significantly. "And make sure they hire more competent investigators than the ones they employed to find Dominic Delaney."

  "Where shall I tell them to start?" Valentin asked. "St. Louis?"

  "No. Monteith's accent is very clipped, very British." He looked at Etaine inquiringly. "However, you have an entirely different accent. Were you born in America?"

  "I don't think so. Khadil says she thinks I was born in Yorkshire, but I remember only London and Liverpool. We were in America for ..." She gestured vaguely. "I can't remember. It seems like a long time."

  Nicholas smiled at the child. "Tell them to start in Yorkshire, Valentin. Perhaps you've heard that knowledge is power, Etaine. We're going to see if we can acquire a bit of that commodity to use as a weapon against your father and keep you safe."

  She gazed at him in wonder. "You're not afraid of him, are you?"

  "Should I be?"

  "Yes," Etaine said gravely, then settled once more against Silver.

  Nicholas was conscious that the child's gaze dwelt thoughtfully on him many times during their ride to the quay.

  "Etaine went right off to sleep. I was afraid she'd be so excited she'd have another attack, but thank heaven she seems to be growing out of them." Silver looked immensely relieved as she closed the door of the study and crossed the room to where Nicholas and Valentin stood by the open French doors. "She told me she'd had only one attack since she left America. She must be getting stronger."

  Nicholas raised a brow. "She struck me as being quite strong already. Your Etaine is ... extraordinary."

  "She's had to be to survive." Silver's lips tightened. "I understand she's had this affliction of the lungs since she was born and with Monteith as a father ..."

  "I can see how she'd have difficulties," Valentin said. "She is only ten years of age? She appears much older and very intelligent."

  Silver nodded eagerly. "Etaine's very bright and she loves to learn new things. She's never been to school, but the people in the circus have taught her many things. Khadil taught her to cipher; she learned to read from Sebastien; she can speak French, Span-ish, and Italian. She even knows—"

  "How to tame ferocious lions," Nicholas interrupted. He smiled indulgently. "You don't have to defend Etaine to me, Silver. As I said, I think she's extraordinary."

  "But she's more than intelligent, she's sweet and loving and she cares about people. I know that taking her from her father may cause you a great deal of trouble and I'll be sorry if your tsar becomes angry with you." She lifted her chin. "But saving Etaine is worth it."

  "I'll try to remember that as I trudge through the snow in Siberia," Nicholas said dryly.

  Silver frowned uncertainly. "Would he really send you there? Perhaps if I went to see him and explained ..."

  Valentin chuckled. "It's a trifle difficult to sit down and have a cozy chat with his imperial majesty, you know."

  "No, I don't know. I don't know anything about the tsar or your customs." Silver's gaze was fastened on Nicholas's face. "Then I won't chat with him. I'll just tell him to send me to Siberia instead of you."

  Nicholas went still. "You'd do that?"

  She looked at him in surprise. "Of course. It was for my sake that you took Etaine away from that bastard. If someone has to be punished, it's only fair that it be me."

  Nicholas's expression was a curious blend of shock and tenderness as he stepped a pace closer and took her hand. "You never cease to amaze me, Silver." He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on the center of her palm. "I confess I'm not accustomed to dealing with a woman with such a profound sense of justice. I'm quite touched."

  "Are you laughing at me?"

  "Oh, no." His eyes met her own. "I'm not laughing. I've neve
r felt less like laughing in my life."

  Neither did Silver, but still she found herself laughing tremulously. "I think it very sensible for me to go to Siberia in your place. After all, I'm accustomed to living on the land, and my life has been rougher than yours. I'd probably even enjoy it. I have no liking for stuffy palaces and footmen and ..." She trailed off and, bemused, simply gazed at him. Sweet heaven, he was beautiful. His dark eyes were sparkling with a thousand secrets and his lips were turned up in a smile so tender that it sent tingles of warmth through her every vein. It wasn't fair for a man to look like this. Men were supposed to be hard and rough-edged, not glowing like a flame, burnishing everything around them with a shimmering luster.

  His eyes were twinkling now. "You make Siberia sound almost inviting." He turned her hand over and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "So inviting that I find it impossible to let you take my place there. I can hardly wait to taste the joys of—"

  "You're both mad," Valentin observed, his bright blue eyes darting from Silver to Nicholas and then back again. "Exile is no joke."

  Nicholas's gaze never left Silver. "Silver would never make that mistake. She doesn't understand jokes, Valentin." He smiled gently as he released her hand and stepped back. "But I'm working on it."

  "Why do I suddenly feel de trop?" Valentin asked.

  Silver tore her gaze away from Nicholas's. "No, I only came to . . ." Why had she come? Etaine. She had come to tell him she was grateful about Etaine. "I came only to thank you for helping Etaine."

  "And to tell me you'll suffer Siberia in my place," Nicholas said. "We'll cross our Siberian bridge if we ever get to it." Then something flickered in the depths of his eyes. "However, if you're feeling grateful, I may as well take advantage of it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think it only fair that you stay by my side until we see what the outcome of tonight's events are going to be." He bowed mockingly. "Like a proper wife."

  "I've never been a proper anything," Silver said absently, her gaze searching his face. "You truly want me to stay?"

  "I do believe it's time I bid you both a good night," Valentin said.

  Nicholas ignored him and nodded solemnly at Silver. "I just might decide to accept your offer. Tsar Alexander can be very intimidating when he's—" He broke off as he saw a worried frown come to her face. He sighed ruefully and deliberately reached up and tugged his left earlobe.

  Silver burst out laughing.

  Nicholas nodded in satisfaction. "That's right. You did that very well, Silver. In no time at all I'll have you trained."

  "I think not, Your Highness. I'm not easily trained." She lowered her gaze to veil the joy that was bubbling through her. He wanted her to stay. She turned away with a careless shrug. "But if you wish me to remain for a while, I'm willing to do as you ask. I have no urgent desire to get on another ship so soon." She moved toward the door. "I grew very bored with the ocean by the time we arrived here."

  "We'll strive to keep you from suffering a similar ennui on Crystal Island."

  Silver opened the door. "Oh, I don't think I'll be bored."

  "No?" Nicholas's tone was softly seductive.

  "After all, Etaine is here now."

  Nicholas gazed blankly at the door Silver had just closed behind her.

  Valentin made a sound that fell somewhere between a snort and a chuckle.

  "I see nothing amusing," Nicholas said sourly.

  "Then why am I amused?"

  "God knows."

  "It could be that I find Silver very refreshing."

  "Or it could be you enjoy seeing my self-esteem in the dust."

  Valentin grinned. "Is that what she did? I really didn't notice."

  Valentin was enjoying Silver's putdown enormously, Nicholas realized. Well, let him have his pleasure. She had agreed to stay, and even though it was only a first concession, he was content for now.

  Firebirds seldom made any concessions at all.

  "They took her." Ivan Peskov's voice was trembling with anger as he stormed into Monteith's tent. "You let them take her."

  Monteith nodded. "I thought it best."

  "How can you say that? They took her." Peskov pulled a fine linen handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the perspiration from his neck. "It's all very well for you to be so calm, but how do I explain to—"

  "You will say I chose to give her to Savron for reasons of my own." Monteith smiled. "Don't worry. This move may bring Etaine to the level I wish more swiftly than I had hoped. Silver Delaney seems to have the same honing effect as the cats on my sweet daughter. Etaine's defiance tonight was very promising.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Peskov said with exasperation.

  "I know you don't." Monteith's smile deepened with contempt. "You don't have to know. Your part is only to make sure Savron and his mistress remain in Russia. All will be well if the Delaney woman doesn't take it into her head to set sail with Etaine."

  "She's not his mistress, she's Nicholas Savron's wife."

  Monteith lifted a brow. "He married her? Then there should be no problem."

  "There is a very great problem in Natalya's eyes." Peskov wiped his upper lip. "I've never seen her so fierce. She said I had to do something. What in Hades can I do?" His dark eyes glinted with sudden cunning. "But since Savron's bride appears to figure prominently in your plans, perhaps you'll be able to think of something that will satisfy both your own and Natalya's requirements."

  "Perhaps." Monteith's gaze narrowed on Peskov's face. "Suppose you tell me what our dear Natalya wants of you."

  4

  "I've brought your tea. Etaine made a face. "It smells terrible, but Nicholas told me to make sure you drank every drop." She handed Silver the delicate china cup and saucer and plopped down beside her on the marble bench with a sigh of contentment. "I love this garden. The hanging gardens of Babylon couldn't have been prettier."

  Silver slowly sipped the sassafras tea as she followed Etaine's gaze over the shrubs and flowers and then to the magnificent fountain located in the exact center of the garden. "It's very lovely," she agreed. "Though it's a little too orderly for me. I like to be surprised."

  Etaine turned to look at her. "Yet I think you're happy here." She tilted her head, studying Silver consideringly. "You've changed, you know."

  Silver shook her head. "I'm the same as I've always been."

  "No, there's something different." Etaine hesitated. "I believe you're . . . softer."

  "Did you find me hard before?"

  "Not exactly." Etaine frowned. "You know I love you, no matter—" She broke off. "But I think you sometimes appeared hard to people who didn't know you. You kept yourself surrounded by walls to keep people away."

  Silver laughed. "And now the walls are gone?"

  "Not all of them, but enough so that people can see what you are."

  "And what am I?"

  "Beautiful."

  Silver shook her head. "You're wrong, I'm not beautiful inside. I'm still too full of anger and rebellion." She paused, thinking about Etaine's words. "Perhaps what you see is my baby. I think my child must be beautiful. Rising Star used to tell me that if a baby is loved, it casts a glow on everything around it." She gazed unseeingly at the fountain. "I believed her because she shone like a candle in that darkness at Killara while she was with child. I never thought I'd be like her, but sometimes I can feel that shining within me." She smiled. "All my life I've been alone and now I have the child. It fills me with wonder."

  A silence fell between them as they sat there enjoying the sunlit garden. The only sounds that broke the stillness were the singing summer harmonies of a breeze ruffling through the branches of the birch trees and the humming of the bees around the flowers.

  "I'm glad you married Nicholas," Etaine said suddenly. "I like him. He makes me feel safe."

  It was strange how differently people perceived one another, Silver thought. Safe would never be a word she would have associated with Nicholas. S
he herself saw him as exciting, maddening, sensual, but never safe. "You are safe here, Etaine. It's been four days since we brought you to the island, and Nicholas says that if Peskov hasn't made a move by this time, he must have no intention of doing so. And without the tsar's intervention, there's really nothing to worry about. The island is well guarded, and no strangers are permitted to come here. Your father would be a fool to try to take you away from us."

  "He'll try," Etaine said quietly. "When he's ready, he'll come for me. What's between us hasn't ended yet." She smiled. "But that's in the future. Now I have fine new clothes and flowers and sunlight and friends like you and Nicholas and—"

  "One of those friends is coming down the path right now," Silver said. "I wondered when he would show up. He's scarcely let you out of his sight since we brought you here."

  Etaine's gaze followed Silver's to the tall red-haired Cossack striding toward them. "Mikhail." She smiled affectionately. "Yes, Mikhail's my friend, but it's really you that he tries to be near. It's just that I'm often in your company."

  Silver wasn't at all sure that was true. The bond between Mikhail and the child had grown steadily during the last four days. The camaraderie between them was unusual, not only because it existed in a man close to thirty and a child of ten but because of the nature of that friendship. They both exhibited a supreme naturalness in each other's presence. It was as if they had been companions since the moment of their births.

  "Come and sit with us, Mikhail," Silver called as he approached. She held out her cup with a teasing smile. "Have some sassafras tea."

  "I am not with child." Mikhail pulled a face as he dropped to the ground on a patch of grass near the bench and crossed his legs tailor fashion. "That brew may be healthy but it tastes bitter as bile. I think you are very brave to drink it twice a day."

  Silver shrugged. "Dr. Rellings sent it to Nicholas to strengthen my blood. I'm not sure it does any good but it can't do harm." She gritted her teeth and took another sip. "Except to my disposition. After the second cup I'm usually bad-tempered enough to scalp someone."