The apartment door opened and closed, and Theodora looked up to see Nikolaos striding towards her, face unreadable. He had not stopped to tidy himself and looked distinctly unkempt with that dark hair tangled and out of place. He looked very male. Theodora stopped breathing. What does he know? What does he think of me?
‘My lady.’ Politely, he bowed. ‘I trust the child took no hurt?’
‘She is fine, thank you.’
‘She...so your child is a girl.’
Your child. Theodora bit her lip. ‘Yes, her name is Martina.’ Her husband’s formality was completely at variance with his dishevelled appearance. Was he using formality to hide his anger? Or was he hiding something else? Nikolaos was not invincible, doubtless he had trained himself to hide any weakness. He looked weary. She could see rings under his eyes. Perhaps she was not the only one who had lain awake after their disagreement last night. His cheeks were dark with stubble; his tunic was stained, a sleeve torn. And he must be bruised after that fall. Theodora was painfully aware they had much to resolve, but this was not the night. ‘One moment, Nikolaos.’
Rising, Theodora went to the door of Martina’s bedchamber. ‘Jelena?’
‘My lady?’
‘Here is Martina. I shall see her in the morning.’
When she went back into the reception chamber, Nikolaos was standing where she had left him, staring blankly at the brazier. She received another formal bow. ‘Princess.’
He is more than weary, he is exhausted. What happened with Boda?
‘Come, Nikolaos.’ Taking his hand, she twined her fingers with his. ‘We are going to the bathhouse.’
A dark brow raised, a small smile lifted some of the weariness from his expression. He looked down at their linked hands. ‘We are?’
‘You are bound to be bruised. A thorough soak will do you good.’
* * *
He must more than ache, he must be in agony—it’s a wonder he can move. As Nikolaos lowered himself gingerly into a warm bath, Theodora reached for some soap and stared in horror at her husband’s chest. It was all very well for him to say that his gambeson had helped break his fall, but the left side of that perfect male torso was a mass of splotchy bruises, the dark discolouration was deeply disturbing.
‘Lean forward, Niko, let me see your back.’
Grimacing, he did as she asked. Holy Mother, there were bruises everywhere. Martina might have emerged almost unscathed, but Niko was suffering.
‘Come.’ Gently she pushed at one broad shoulder. ‘Wet your hair, I am going to wash it.’
‘You?’ His voice was startled. ‘Surely a servant—’
‘Hush.’ She pressed on his shoulder again. ‘Let me do this for you.’
‘Theodora—’
‘Hush.’ She pushed again and this time he slid under the water. While she washed his hair with rosemary-scented soap, she began to talk. ‘You will probably regret allowing me this intimacy. I have never done this office for anyone.’
‘I am not surprised. Not every bathhouse has an Imperial princess in attendance.’
‘I want to do this for you. You saved Martina,’ she murmured, massaging his scalp. The scent of the rosemary filled the air. ‘You didn’t hesitate, not for a moment.’
‘Hesitate? Why should I do that?’
Theodora smiled at the back of his head. ‘A man who resented his wife for keeping secrets from him might hesitate.’
He shifted to look at her and water sploshed over the side. ‘I could not leave a child to that man’s mercy.’ He shrugged. ‘In any event, you did not come to me a virgin. When I heard you scream for me, it was no great leap from there to realise the child was yours. And no great shock.’ He caught hold of a lock of hair and tugged, bringing her mouth close. He gave her a brief kiss and released her. ‘I sensed you had been keeping things from me and I did not like it. I much prefer to know. Besides, who am I to take exception to your illegitimate daughter? I myself am illegitimate.’
Theodora stared. ‘I thought Lord Gregorios was your fa—’
His face closed. ‘No. My mother deceived my father. She deceived everyone. I am illegitimate.’
Nikolaos was illegitimate. Theodora lowered her eyes while she absorbed it. He is illegitimate. Had he only recently discovered this? If so, it must be a shock. Illegitimacy was no bar to advancement in the Imperial Court, but it must be disturbing to live one’s life secure in the knowledge that one’s father was the Governor of Larissa. To have that suddenly snatched away would make even the strongest man question his identity.
Theodora went cold. That was why he wanted me. Did he see marriage to an Imperial princess as a way of redefining himself? He was no longer the son of the Governor of Larissa so he married into the Imperial family to bolster his position at Court. It was foolish to let this upset her, but she could not help it. Our marriage was from the first a marriage of convenience, I should not expect more. Love was making her unreasonable; it was making her yearn for his affection, if not his love.
‘Nikolaos, Lady Verina—’
‘I do not wish to speak about my mother.’
‘Very well,’ Theodora said, reaching for a jug and holding it under a warm-water spigot. She wanted nothing more than to help him reconcile with his mother, but she would not force him to discuss her tonight. A man who had covered himself in bruises for Martina’s sake had earned the right to some peace.
‘Close your eyes, Niko, I will rinse your hair.’
He faced forward, murmuring. ‘I like it when you call me Niko.’
‘Captain Markos found your horse, by the way,’ she said, tipping the water on to his hair.
‘So I’ve been told.’
‘Did Boda get away?’
‘Almost, but I got him. His idea of using the aqueduct as an avenue of escape was ingenious, but flawed.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s like a watch point up at the top, you can see for miles. I ran along and soon spotted him on the ground, heading for the docks. Caught up with him at the Lantern Gate. He’s in custody and is being questioned. A small...incident took place before I met you and it has been weighing on my mind. It turns out that Boda was responsible for it.’
‘An incident?’
‘He browbeat one of the City’s best saddlers into producing shoddy work. The girth of my saddle...well, never mind, it’s been settled now. After Boda’s confession today, I went back to the saddler and stressed that if he is ever threatened again, he must report the threats at once.’
She tugged at his shoulder. ‘Your saddle was tampered with?’
‘Faulty girth. It did no harm, we found it in time. Theodora, the matter is over. All you need to know is that we have Boda. His accomplices have fled the City; you have no more to fear from any of them.’
Theodora opened her mouth and closed it again. If only that were true. She rinsed his hair and, mindful of his bruises, started washing his back. Her thoughts ran on. The habit of secrecy was hard to set aside. In Rascia, after news had come that her parents had been killed, she had learned to be self-reliant; a Princess in a foreign land had to keep her own counsel. And shortly before Peter’s death she had discovered sometimes it was vital not to be entirely open with one’s friends, even those as close to her as Lady Sophia, Lady Anna and Katerina.
There was one deep secret she had not told a soul.
It was a secret she hardly dared think about—she had the ridiculous, superstitious fear that someone might read her thoughts. Only Peter and Brother Leo had known the truth. And now they were dead.
She rinsed soap from her husband’s bruised back, running her hands across his shoulders and down the sharply defined muscles of his arms. Beautiful, his body was beautiful. Impulsively she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. She had been affronted when he had set his men to watching her, but that had paled into insignificance when he had hurled himself off the steps of the aqueduct to catch Martina. She would be grateful for ever. Instinct had made her cry to Nikol
aos for help, he had not let her down.
‘Mmm,’ he said, reaching behind for her hand and pulling her alongside him. He took her lips with his. Slowly, carefully, his tongue eased inside her mouth. He felt warm and unshaven; he smelled of rosemary and tasted slightly of soap...
As they kissed, Theodora was conscious of a tightness in her chest, it bordered on pain. It was pain. I want to tell him the truth. It was hard to open up to someone even when you loved him. And she did love him. The realisation was unlooked for, but it was not unwelcome. Nikolaos was kind and generous. He had not chastised her for her lack of innocence; he was not chastising her for keeping her daughter’s existence from him; he had put himself in harm’s way for her...
Theodora felt confused—love had caught her off-guard. This man is a good man, you might tell him everything. But could she? Dare she? Nikolaos made her want to throw herself into his keeping and forget all she had so painfully learned. The idea that he might help her solve her problems was—like the man himself—disturbingly compelling. However, self-reliance had been her watchword for so long, she doubted she could change, even for Nikolaos. And there was another important consideration.
Every day, Theodora prayed the truth about Martina’s status would never come to light. If the worst happened, though, if the truth did come to light, it would be best that Nikolaos remained ignorant. If I tell him my deep secret, he will have two choices—he can either betray my sin to the Emperor or, if he does not betray me, he becomes complicit. I cannot put him in that position.
While Theodora had been waiting for Nikolaos to return that evening, she had done much thinking. Prince Djuradj has discovered the truth, he knows who Martina really is! God alone knew how Prince Djuradj had found out, but she must face it, he knew the truth. The unspeakable, unthinkable truth.
She pulled out of the kiss.
‘Boda would have killed her.’
Nikolaos sighed and eased his shoulders. ‘It seems possible.’ He looked warily at her. The front of her gown was dark where water had splashed on it, her hair was disordered, and her lips were red from their kiss. She looked adorable. ‘I was not going to say it, I did not wish to cause you undue alarm, but I had come to the conclusion that the Prince of Zeta wishes your—our—daughter dead.’
‘Our daughter?’ Her eyes glistened. She swallowed. ‘Oh, Niko, I do love you.’
An unexpected warmth stole through him. The last thing Nikolaos expected from her was a profession of love. He reminded himself that she had likely made it because she was grateful—hell, she probably thought she ought to say it. Uncertain how to respond, he curled his hand round her neck. Heedless of dripping more water on to her, he kissed her again. Her mouth was warm and trembled beneath his. Nikolaos forgot his bruises. Her hands came up and took his shoulders. Nikolaos forgot his aches. Opening his eyes to watch her as they kissed, he saw a tear slide slowly down her cheek.
‘Our daughter,’ he repeated, manfully ignoring the way she quickened his blood and sent hot pulses throbbing in his loins. ‘I will protect her as I would protect you. That is my vow.’
He drew back. Theodora made him breathless with want. She filled his vision and his thoughts. Since they had
bedded, he desired her more each day; he burned for her now despite the aches in his chest and ribs. However, one simply could not drag an Imperial princess into one’s bath and have one’s way with her. Even if she was his wife. Later, when he had cleared his mind on one or two points, he would take her upstairs and pray his ribs did not protest.
‘Theodora, why is Župan Djuradj interested in your daughter?’
She fixed her gaze on a washcloth in the water. ‘I...I am not sure.’
A knot formed in his belly. She knows. She is lying. The warmth evoked by her declaration of love was gone. ‘No?’
‘The Prince of Zeta hates me,’ she murmured, picking up a bottle of almond oil. She began toying with the stopper.
‘On the grounds that you were betrothed to his rival?’
‘I...I have already explained that Prince Djuradj asked me to marry him after Peter’s death. He took the rejection badly. Djuradj is the most vengeful of men, he has sworn to hurt me.’
‘He sent his men a long way to kill one small child.’
Theodora gave a jerky nod. She was entirely focused on the bottle of oil, twisting the stopper round and round. ‘He hates me.’
‘There’s more to it than that, there has to be,’ Nikolaos said, thinking aloud. Why will she not look at me? A cold draught was playing over the back of his neck, it was as though the bath water had chilled in an instant. There is more, there is something else she is not telling me, and it is no triviality...
‘Theodora?’
‘Mmm?’ She went on playing with the stopper.
‘Look at me. What else are you not telling me?’
Brown eyes lifted; her expression was haunted, she was definitely hiding something...
‘Nothing, there’s nothing.’ Her chest heaved. She gave him a smile. It was clearly forced. ‘Nikolaos, did I tell you I have at last met your mother?’
‘I saw you speaking to her.’ He drew back, deciding to allow her the change of subject. It was a crude attempt to distract him and his suspicions were far from allayed, she was not being open with him.
With a sigh, she set the bottle aside. ‘Lady Verina is saddened by the rift between you.’
‘She should have thought about that before she deceived me.’
‘Niko, she would like to speak with you, to explain.’
He shook his head. ‘I have had all the explanations I need. My dear lady mother deceived my father. She deceived me, she deceived the entire Court. I have no wish to speak to her.’
Dark brown eyes gazed steadily at him, a small hand reached into the water and took his. ‘It is possible you might have misjudged her.’
He stiffened. ‘What did she tell you?’
‘Only that you will not speak to her. Niko, your mother loves you and that is a great blessing. It does not...it does not become you that you spurn her in public. A mother should be honoured, a mother should be respected.’
He pulled his hand free and, taking a washcloth, vigorously soaped his chest. ‘My mother deserves neither honour nor respect. My moth—’
‘Your mother loves you.’ Reaching out, Theodora ignored the scowl he flung at her and took the washcloth. She dipped it in the water, soaped it and continued where he had left off.
‘You are fortunate to have a mother,’ she said softly. ‘She strikes me as a loving, honest woman. I do not believe you would regret seeing her and listening to what she has to say.’
Nikolaos caught her wrist and pulled her towards him until her mouth was inches from his. Long, dark hair trailed in the water like a ribbon of weed; her scent—violets, musk and woman—teased him. ‘Loving? Honest? Theodora, didn’t you hear me? I am illegitimate.’ She struggled to pull back, he tightened his hold.
‘I heard you, Nikolaos, but I do not see why you are set on spurning her. And publicly. That was shameful, Lady Verina gave you life.’
Her response was so unexpected Nikolaos relaxed his hold, allowing her to rock back on the stool. Wearily, he rubbed his face. He should be glad, he told himself, that Theodora had not rejected him. When he had first learned of his illegitimacy, he had braced himself for her scorn. She had come back to Constantinople to marry a general of one of the most upstanding families in the Empire and instead she found herself married to him—a man whose father might be anyone.
‘My father never was Governor of Larissa. I am illegitimate.’ A small crease formed in her brow. Nikolaos ached to smooth it away, but he held himself in check.
‘Yes, you mentioned that earlier. Nikolaos, I am not sure what you expect me to say.’
‘I thought you might resent our marriage.’
Her brow cleared and her cheeks went as bright as a poppy. ‘Your mother had a lover, Nikolaos, many women do. And there are many great me
n, illegitimate men, who have served the Empire well. Illegitimacy is no bar to advancement.’
He swallowed and nodded, unable for some reason to form words. She spoke the truth. Nikolaos was aware that some women would react badly on learning their husband had been born out of wedlock. An Imperial princess might have more reason that most to express shock and revulsion. She was showing neither.
Martina. Her child, Martina, was responsible for that. A princess who had given birth to an illegitimate child, a princess who clearly adored that child, was less likely to judge others for their mistakes. His mood lightened. Nikolaos deeply regretted that she was keeping things from him, but all was not lost. Their marriage had much to commend it. On their wedding night the passion that had flared between them had been a delight. Now it would seem that he and Princess Theodora were compatible in more ways than one. My illegitimacy does not repel her. Her lack of innocence has in truth turned out to be a blessing. I can surely build on that...I shall win her trust.
‘You have only recently discovered about your birth?’ she asked, eyes alight with interest and sympathy.
He nodded. ‘Apparently others had guessed—my manservant Elias, for one—but I had no idea. I keep wondering whether my father—Governor Gregorios, that is—I wonder whether he knew and, if so, what he would have thought.’
‘It’s possible he knew.’
‘I cannot shift the thought that the man I think of as my father, the former Governor of Larissa, is not my father at all. He taught me everything, everything.’
‘Nikolaos, the man who raised you was in many ways your father.’ Her rings caught the light as she gripped the bathtub. ‘I can see this has come as a terrible shock, but I really think you must speak to your mother and hear what she has to say. She might surprise you.’
Nikolaos frowned, he did not wish to speak to his mother. Picking up her hand, he stared pointedly at her mouth. ‘With your permission, Princess?’ His question brought the pretty flush back to her cheeks.
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