Secret Fire (11 page)

“No trouble,” he said agreeably, only to look at Dimitri. “Highness?”

“Continue on your present course, Sergei.”

“Yes, my prince.”

And the man walked away, leaving Katherine staring after him with her mouth open. She quickly snapped it shut and rounded on Dimitri.

“You bastard—”

“I did warn you, my dear,” he said pleasantly. “You see, this ship and everything in it belongs to me, including the captain and his crew.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“I agree,” he returned with a shrug. “But until the Tzar can reconcile himself to going against the majority of his nobles and abolishing serfdom, millions of Russians will continue to be owned by only a select few.”

Katherine held her tongue. As much as she would have liked to tear into him on this issue, she had already heard him tell the beautiful Anastasia that he had offered his own serfs their freedom. And if he was against serfdom, as that indicated, they would only end up agreeing on any arguments she might raise, and she was in no mood at the moment to agree with him on anything. She took another tack.

“There is one thing on this ship that doesn’t belong to you, Alexandrov.”

His lips turned up at the corners, and in that smile was the knowledge that even though she was correct in principle, she was nonetheless at his mercy. Katherine didn’t need to hear it said to understand this subtle message. The problem was in accepting it.

“Come, Katya, we will discuss this in my cabin over dinner.”

She drew her arm out of the way when he reached for it. “There is nothing to discuss. Either put me ashore or let me jump ship.”

“To me you make demands, to Sergei you make sweet requests. Perhaps you should change your tactics.”

“Go to hell!”

Katherine stalked away, only to realize belatedly that she had nowhere to go, no cabin of her own to retreat to, no place on the entire ship,
his
ship, where she could hide. And time was running out, England receding more and more into the distance with each passing second.

She stopped just as she reached the companionway and turned back toward the Prince, and found herself nearly knocked off her feet as he bumped into her, having been close at her heels. His quick reflex in grabbing her was the only thing that kept her from tumbling down the stairs, and now she was in the same position she had been in earlier, only facing him this time.

She had been ready to swallow her pride. She could have swallowed her tongue in that moment of pure physical sensation and not known it.

“You had something more to say, Katya?”

“What?” He stepped back, releasing her, and her thoughts came rushing back. “Yes, I—”

Good Lord, this wasn’t easy.
How do you humble yourself, Katherine, when you’d rather kick his shins?

She looked up, then quickly down. The dark, velvety eyes were as potent as his embrace had been. And at this close proximity, she didn’t dare meet such a challenge.

“I apologize, Prince Alexandrov. I’m not usually so short-tempered, but under the circumstances…never mind. Look, I am willing to be reasonable. If you will put me ashore, I swear I will forget we ever met. I won’t go to the authorities. I won’t even tell my father what happened. I just want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, Katya, I truly am. If Tzar Nicholas weren’t visiting your queen this summer, it wouldn’t be necessary to remove you from England. But your English newspapers would love to have a reason to attack Nicholas Pavlovich. I won’t give them that reason.”

“I swear—”

“I can’t take the chance.”

Katherine was angry enough to look him in the eye now. “Look, I was upset this morning. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. But now I’ve told you who I am. You must see that I can’t afford to exact retribution, that I can’t do anything without embroiling my family in a terrible scandal, and that I would never do.”

“I would agree, if you were in fact a St. John.”

She made a sound that was half a groan, half a scream. “You can’t do this! Do you know what it will do to my family, the anguish they’ll go
through not knowing what happened to me? Please, Alexandrov!”

She could see that his conscience was pricked, yet it didn’t make any difference. “I’m sorry.” His hand came up to caress her cheek, but dropped when she flinched away. “Don’t take it so hard, little one. I will return you to England as soon as the Tzar’s visit is over.”

Katherine gave him one last chance. “You won’t change your mind?”

“I can’t.”

With nothing left to say, she did what she had wanted to do in the first place: drew back her foot and gave his shin a solid kick. Unfortunately she forgot she wasn’t wearing any shoes. His grunt of pain wasn’t quite as satisfactory as she had hoped, and her toes were throbbing, but she gave him her back anyway and limped down the stairs. Hearing him bellow for Vladimir didn’t stop her. She passed the Prince’s cabin, found the storeroom, and sat down on the trunk she had been locked in earlier. There she waited; for what, she didn’t know.

“
S
weet Mary and Jesus!” Vladimir exploded. “What did I say? Tell me! All I asked was for you to take the new clothes to her and extend Dimitri’s invitation to dinner. But you look at me as if I suggested you do murder!”

Marusia lowered her gaze, but her mouth was set mulishly, and her knife chopped with excessive force, multilating the spinach for the salad she was preparing. “Why do you ask me anyway? You said he made her your responsibility. Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean I’ll share that responsibility.”

“Marusia—”

“No! I won’t do it, so don’t ask again. The poor thing has been through enough.”

“
Poor
thing! That poor thing snarls like a she-wolf.”

“Ah, so now we have it. You’re afraid to face her after all you’ve done.”

Vladimir sat down heavily at the opposite side of the table. He glared at the cook’s back, whose shoulders were shaking suspiciously. His two galley helpers peeling potatoes in the corner were doing their best to pretend they lacked ears. This was no place to have an argument with his wife. Everyone aboard ship would know of it before morning.

“How can my request do anything but please her?” he demanded, but softly.

“Nonsense. You know she won’t accept the clothes or his invitation. Yet you have your orders, don’t you? Well,
I
won’t be the one to force more grief on her.” Her voice lowered and was tinged with self-disgust. “I did enough already.”

His eyes widened, finally understanding what had turned her into a shrew. “I don’t believe it. What have you to feel guilty about?”

She glanced up, all hostility gone from her expression. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t suggested you drug her—”

“Don’t be a fool, woman. I had heard Bulavin’s boasts too. I would have gone to him eventually without your suggestion.”

“That doesn’t change how callous I was, Vladimir. I gave no thought to her. She meant nothing to me, just another one of the nameless women he avails himself of between his more lofty conquests. Even after I met her and saw how different she was from all the others, I’m ashamed to say I still didn’t consider anything except pleasing him.”

“Which is as it should be.”

“I know that,” she snapped. “But that changes nothing. She was a virgin, husband!”

“So what?”

“So what? She wasn’t willing, that’s what! Would you take me, if I weren’t willing? No, you would respect my wishes. But no one has respected her wishes since you dragged her off the street. Not one of us has.”

“He didn’t force her, Marusia,” he reminded her quietly.

“He didn’t have to. The drug took care of that, and
we
gave her the drug.”

Vladimir frowned. “
She
hasn’t complained of her loss. All she does is hiss and snarl and make demands. And you forget she will be well compensated. She will be returned to England a rich woman.”

“But what about now? What about forcing her to come with us?”

“You know it was necessary.”

Marusia sighed. “I know, but that doesn’t make it right.”

After a moment of silence, he said gently, “You should have had children, Marusia. Your mothering instinct has been aroused. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” She leaned across the table to reach for his hand. “I love you, husband. I have never regretted my choice. Just—just go easy on her. You men, you never consider a woman’s feelings. Consider hers when you deal with her.”

He made a long-suffering face, but he nodded.

Vladimir hesitated before he knocked on the door. Behind him Lida stood shamefaced, her arms full of packages. He had given the girl a sound scolding for carrying the tale of the stained sheets to Marusia and no doubt anyone else who would listen. If it weren’t for that cursed virginity, his wife would never have been so sympathetic toward the English wench, or so he thought. And her guilt had rubbed off on him. Despite all the difficulties the wench had caused, Marusia had managed to make him feel sorry for her. His pity lasted as long as it took for the door to open.

She stood there, a picture of arrogant defiance and withering malice. Nor did she move aside to let him in.

“What do you want?”

He had to stop himself from automatically bowing in deference to her, her tone was so imperious. It prodded his temper, just as it had from first meeting her, this superiority of hers. No Alexandrov serf would dare put on such airs, even those elevated to new enviable positions. The ballerinas, opera singers, ship captains such as Sergei, architects, actors who had performed for the imperial court, they all still knew their place. Not Little English. No, she put herself above them all.

She needed a good slap to bring her down a peg, and every instinct cried out for Vladimir to deliver it. He didn’t. Instead he steeled himself to recall Marusia’s entreaty. How
could
his wife feel sorry for this bitch?

“I have brought you a few necessities you will need for the voyage.” He took a step forward, forcing Katherine to move out of the way so that Lida could carry in the packages. “Over there,” he told the girl, indicating the top of one of the many trunks in the cabin.

It annoyed him that the wench would undoubtedly be pleased with these many new clothes. He should have attended to the purchasing himself, what with the four women in the Prince’s entourage too busy putting the Duke’s house back in order to go shopping. But he had been unable to bring himself to buy anything for
her
.

He had sent Boris instead, who had helped him load Katherine into Dimitri’s trunk and so could at least judge her size. He had secretly hoped the fellow would fail and return empty-handed, with no time left to send anyone else. But Boris was smarter than Vladimir gave him
credit for. Afraid to make a mistake, he had coaxed Anastasia’s maid, Zora, along to help him. And Zora was unfortunately accustomed to buying for the Princess, so everything the two had bought was of a better quality than Vladimir had intended. Nothing fit for royalty, but nothing appropriate for a servant either.

“There is one dress that is finished and appears near your size.” Vladimir addressed Katherine again, but avoided looking at her until he had said what he had to say. “The others are all in different stages of completion, according to the dressmaker, but Lida here will help you if you have no talent with the needle. We were lucky to find anything at all at such short notice, but there are still some things money can buy if the price is right.” He smiled to himself when he heard her gasp, his barb hitting its intended mark. “You should have everything you will need. The Princess’s maid was quite thorough. If not, you need only tell me.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you? Did you buy me a trunk too?”

“You may use that one, since it is now empty.”

Katherine followed his nod and grimaced, seeing the trunk she knew so intimately. “How did you guess I was sentimental?”

He couldn’t help himself. He smiled at such blatant sarcasm. But she didn’t notice. She was still staring at the trunk.

And now for the last of his immediate duty. “Lida will help you change since there isn’t much time. The Prince is expecting you, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Katherine turned to him, her expression bland for the moment. “For what?”

“He has invited you to dine with him.”

“Forget it,” she replied curtly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re not deaf, Kirov. Extend my regrets, if you must. Word it however you like. The answer is unequivocally no.”

“Unacceptable,” he began, but it was as if Marusia were there jabbing him in the ribs. “Very well, we will compromise. Change, go to his cabin, and
you
tell him you don’t wish to accept his invitation.”

She calmly shook her head. “You’ve missed my point. I’m not going anywhere near that man.”

With a clear conscience Vladimir could tell Marusia he had tried, but now he smiled with particular pleasure.

B
athed, shaved, and donned in one of his more elegant formal coats, Dimitri waved Maksim away when he approached with a frilly white cravat. “Not tonight, or she’ll think I’m trying to impress her.”

The valet nodded, but spared a glance for the candlelit table set for two, the gold-rimmed china and sparkling crystal, the champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. And she wasn’t to be impressed? Perhaps not. If she really was an earl’s daughter, and Maksim was inclined to believe she was from what he had seen so far, she would be used to such luxury.

The Prince was another matter though. He was at his best tonight, and not just in looks. It wasn’t often that Maksim saw him like this. Undoubtedly the stimulation of a new challenge, the sexual tension had its effect, but there was something else too that Maksim couldn’t define. He might call it nervousness if he didn’t know better, but mixed with a lighthearted exuberance that had been sorely lacking in the Prince for many years. Whatever it was, it made those dark brown eyes sparkle with anticipation as never before.

She was a lucky woman, this Englishwoman. Even if the seductive atmosphere in the cabin didn’t impress her, the Prince couldn’t fail to.

But when she arrived a few minutes later, Maksim’s opinion changed drastically. He
learned quickly what it would take Dimitri longer to learn: never to assume anything about this particular woman.

Vladimir was not escorting her. He delivered her, trussed up and tossed over his shoulder. With a single apologetic look in Dimitri’s direction, he set her down and quickly untied her wrists. That done, she ripped off her gag—the reason Dimitri had had no prior warning of what was going on before this startling arrival. She took only a second to throw the cloth at Vladimir before swinging round to impale Dimitri with the hot fury in her eyes.

“I won’t have it! I won’t!” she screamed. “You tell this churlish brute of yours he is not to lay his hands on me again, or I swear—I swear—”

She stopped, and Dimitri gathered that she was too upset for simple verbal threats as she looked wildly around for some kind of weapon. When her eyes lit on the well-laid table, he leaped forward, unwilling to sacrifice a fortune in crystal and china to this tantrum, not to mention possible wounds, at least not when he didn’t yet know what had caused it.

His arms were as effective as thick ropes, wrapping around her and locking her own arms firmly to her sides. “All right,” he said tightly by her ear. “Calm down and we will unravel this little drama—”

“To my satisfaction,” she hissed.

“If you insist.” He felt her relax then, if only slightly, and looked toward the supposed culprit. “Vladimir?”

“She refused to change her dress or join you, my lord, so Boris and I assisted her.”

Dimitri felt her anger return full force in the straining of her small body against his hold. “They ripped my dress—tore it right off me!”

“You want them flogged?”

Katherine stilled completely. She was staring at Vladimir standing only a few feet away. His expression didn’t change. He was a proud man. But she saw that he was holding his breath as he waited for her answer. He felt fear. She didn’t doubt it. And she took a moment to savor the power Dimitri was unexpectedly giving her.

She envisioned Vladimir tied to a mast, his jacket and shirt stripped away, and she herself holding a whip poised above his naked back. It was not just for his having dressed her as if she were a child and couldn’t do it herself, her arms thrust into tight sleeves, her stockings changed and shoes shoved on her feet. Nor was it for gagging her and tying her up again while her hair was brushed, even while perfume was applied behind her ears. She wielded the whip in her imagination for everything this man had done to her, and he deserved every revengeful stroke.

The picture was nice to contemplate for those few moments, but Katherine wouldn’t order it done, no matter how much she might hate the man. That Dimitri would, however, disturbed her.

“You can let go, Alexandrov,” she said quietly, still staring at Vladimir. “I believe I have my dreadful temper under control now.”

She wasn’t surprised that he hesitated. She had never made such a shameful spectacle of herself before. But she wasn’t embarrassed. Enough was enough. They had simply pushed her too far.

When Dimitri did let go, she turned slowly to face him, one brow raised in question. “Do you make a habit of flogging your servants?”

“I detect censure.”

Wary of his sudden frown, she lied. “Not at all. Mere curiosity.”

“Then no, I never have. Which isn’t to say there aren’t exceptions to that rule.”

“For me? Why?”

He shrugged. “Everything said and done, I believe I owe you that much.”

“Yes, you do, and much more,” she agreed. “But I wasn’t demanding blood.”

“Very well.” He turned to Vladimir. “In future, if her wishes differ from mine, don’t argue with her. Simply bring the matter to me.”

“And what does that solve?” Katherine demanded. “Instead of him forcing me to do something I don’t want to do, you will.”

“Not necessarily.” The sternness of Dimitri’s expression lightened at last. “Vladimir follows my orders to the letter, even when met with difficulty, as you have discovered. On the other hand, I can listen to your arguments and rescind my orders, if need be. I am not an unreasonable man.”

“Aren’t you? I’m afraid I haven’t seen anything to indicate otherwise.”

He smiled. “This is all premature, you know. You were invited to join me for dinner so that we could discuss your status among us and come to an arrangement agreeable to us both. There will be no need for any more battles, Katya.”

Katherine wished she could believe that. But the fact was that she had guessed the reason for this dinner invitation and had refused it because
she was afraid to have her situation spelled out in clear-cut terms. She would rather wonder than have her worst fears confirmed.

But now that she was here and there could be no more avoiding it, she might as well have done with it. “So,” Katherine said with forced evenness, “am I a prisoner or a reluctant guest?”

Her directness was refreshing, but it didn’t suit Dimitri’s plans for the evening. “Sit down, Katya. We will eat first and—”

“Alexandrov—” she began warningly, only to be cut off with a disarming smile.

“I insist. Champagne?”

Observing the slight gesture of his hand, both servants left the room. Dimitri moved to the champagne bucket himself. Katherine watched him with a feeling of unreality. Did he say he was a reasonable man? What a laugh. He wasn’t even waiting for her answer but was filling the two crystal glasses on the small dining table.

Very well, she would play it his way, for now. After all, she had had nothing to eat all day and only one meal yesterday. And she was no hypocrite when it came to food, as so many ladies of her class were, only nibbling at dinners in company because too-tight corsets made it impossible to do otherwise. She didn’t wear her corsets to the point of discomfort. With such a tiny waist she didn’t have to. And she enjoyed good food. The trouble was that she didn’t think she would enjoy this meal no matter how good the food, not with such a distracting dinner companion, and not with her immediate future so in question.

Stay on your toes, Katherine. He thinks to wine and dine you and perhaps get you drunk so you’ll agree to anything. Just keep your wits about you, don’t look at him too much, and you’ll do fine
.

She picked the chair farthest away from where he was standing and slid into it. A thick plush velvet seat and back. Comfortable. Exquisite lacy tablecloth. Soft candlelight. There were other lamps on in the room, but far enough away not to detract from this intimate setting. It was a large room. Luxurious. How could she have missed all of this before? The enormous white fur rug. One whole wall of books. The bed.
Don’t stare at it, Katherine!
A lovely sofa and matching chair in white brocaded satin and dark cherrywood and the big chair she had sat in earlier were grouped around an ornate stand-up stove. An antique desk. More cherrywood in tables and cabinets. More fur rugs. The room really
was
big. Perhaps it had once been two or more cabins. It was his ship; perhaps he had designed it this way.

He sat down across from her. Thank God for the three-foot width of table. She looked anywhere but at him, but knew he was watching her.

“Try the champagne, Katya.”

She reached automatically for the glass, but caught herself and drew her hand back. “I would rather not.”

“You prefer something else?”

“No, I—”

“You think it’s drugged?”

She looked at him then, eyes flaring. She hadn’t thought of that at all, but she should
have. Stupid! She was supposed to keep one step ahead of him.

She shot to her feet, but Dimitri reached over quickly and caught her wrist, proving the table wasn’t a safe enough width after all.

“Sit down, Katherine.” His voice was firm, an order. “If it will make you feel better, I will be your food taster for the evening.” She didn’t budge, but he let go. “You have to eat sometime. Will you worry about the food for the whole voyage, or will you trust me that you won’t be drugged again?”

She sat down stiffly. “I didn’t think you would, but Kirov thinks for himself and—”

“And he was duly chastised for the first time. I tell you it won’t happen again. Trust me,” he added more softly.

She wished she hadn’t been looking at him all this time. Now she couldn’t tear her eyes away. His white silk shirt was opened at the neck, giving him a rakish look despite the elegance of his black evening coat. The shoulders were so wide, the arms powerful. He really was big, this fairy-tale prince, so utterly masculine in size, in looks.

No matter how Katherine tried to get around it, she was attracted. And without her anger to protect her, she had no defense against such potent attraction.

Lida saved Katherine from making a fool of herself with her staring by arriving with the first course. From then on Katherine concentrated on her food with a vengeance, only vaguely aware that Dimitri was talking to her as they ate, telling her a little about Russia, anecdotes about court life there, about someone named Vasili who was apparently a close friend. She supposed she
made appropriate comments when necessary, since he didn’t stop talking. And she knew he was trying to put her at ease. It was nice of him to try. But she would never, ever be at ease in his presence. It just wasn’t possible.

“You haven’t really been listening, have you, Katya?”

He had spoken louder to gain her attention. She glanced up, blushing slightly. Annoyance seemed to war with amusement in his expression. She imagined he wasn’t accustomed to anyone ignoring him.

“I’m sorry, I—I—” She cast about for an excuse. Only one came readily to mind. “I was famished.”

“And preoccupied?”

“Yes, well, under the circumstances…”

He threw down his napkin and refilled his glass. He had consumed nearly all of the champagne by himself. Her first glass was still untouched.

“Shall we adjourn to the sofa?”

“I—would rather not.”

His fingers tightened on his glass. Fortunately Katherine didn’t notice. “Then by all means let us dispense now with what concerns you so you can enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Too late she became aware of his irritation. And what the devil did he mean by that? She had no intention of remaining in this cabin any longer than necessary. If she was to enjoy the rest of the evening, she would have to be alone, but she doubted that was what he had in mind. But first things first.

“Perhaps you will answer my earlier question now. I feel like a prisoner, and yet you invite me
here tonight as if I were only a guest. Which is it to be?”

“Neither, I think, at least not in the strictest sense. There is no reason for you to be confined during the length of the voyage. You can’t escape at sea, after all. Yet idleness breeds unrest and is also a bad example for my servants. You will need to do something to occupy your time while you are with us.”

Katherine clasped her hands in her lap. He was right, of course, and this was more than she could have hoped for. She couldn’t remember the last time her life hadn’t been filled to the brim with activity of one kind or another. There was his library, but much as she loved to read, she couldn’t see herself doing nothing but that day after day. She needed stimulation for her mind, to be planning, arranging, doing something useful or challenging. If he had something to suggest, she would be grateful, especially since what she had feared was that she
would
be confined to a cabin the whole voyage.

“What did you have in mind?” Her eagerness was unmistakable.

Dimitri stared at her for a moment in surprise. He had expected her to balk immediately at the idea of working. He had planned then to offer her the position of being his mistress, so she could continue playing this role of Lady to her heart’s content. Perhaps she had misunderstood. Yes. After all, he had never met a woman yet who would not prefer a pampered, idle existence to one of menial service.

“The possibilities are limited aboard ship, you understand?”

“Yes, I realize that.”

“In fact, there are only two positions available for you to consider. Which one you select is up to you, but you must choose one or the other.”

“You have made your point, Alexandrov,” Katherine said impatiently. “Do get on with it.”

Had he thought her directness refreshing? More fool he.

“Do you recall meeting Anastasia here earlier?” he asked tightly.

“Yes, of course. Your wife?”

“You assume I am married?”

“I don’t assume anything. It was mere curiosity.”

Dimitri frowned. He wished she would be more than merely curious about him. Her question had reminded him of Tatiana, and he made a mental note never to take that one traveling with him. If this evening had been difficult, with him having to carry the conversation, evenings with Tatiana would be much worse since she dominated a conversation by talking about nothing but herself. But there was one great difference in his preference of companion. Tatiana didn’t excite him. Little Katherine did. Even her annoying frankness didn’t change that. Nor her haughty indifference. And especially her unpredictable temper.