Those were the frustrations of her nights. Her days were another matter.
Katherine had always dreamed of traveling, ever since she was ten years old and had sailed with her family to Scotland for the wedding of some distant cousin. She had discovered then that sailing agreed with her. Unlike her sister and mother, she had thrived aboard ship, feeling healthier than ever before. By ten she was already well immersed in the wide range of studies her father allowed her to undertake. She had wanted to visit the countries she was learning about. It was a dream she never outgrew.
She had even seriously considered the marriage proposals of several foreign dignitaries she had met at the palace, just because of her desire to travel. But an acceptance would have meant leaving England for good, and she wasn’t quite daring enough to do that.
Those were her only offers of marriage. There could have been others, but she didn’t encourage any courtship. And without any encouragement, Englishmen found her too formidable, too competent—perhaps they were afraid to compete. It wasn’t that she didn’t see herself married eventually. The time had simply not been right for it. She had had her one frivolous season, then served the Queen for a year. She might have continued to enjoy court life if her mother hadn’t died. But she had, and Katherine took her place as the one person in the family that everyone brought their problems to, including her father. But even though the household would have fallen into chaos without her, she had intended to marry. She had only wanted to get Beth properly wed first and Warren reined in enough to carry some of the load. Then she would have made an effort to find a husband.
Now she would probably have to settle for a fortune hunter for a husband, thanks to her loss of virginity. That was all right though. Buying a husband was commonplace. If she had been hoping for a love match, she would probably be devastated. It was fortunate that she was too practical for such silly dreams.
But her one dream had come true. What she had never had time for was now being forced on her. She was traveling. She was on a ship sailing for a foreign land. And she wouldn’t have been normal if she hadn’t felt some degree of excitement mixed in with all her other emotions. Russia might not have appeared on her imaginary itinerary, but then she wouldn’t have chosen to travel virtually as a prisoner either.
If she viewed her situation with an open mind, putting emotions aside, she knew there was room for improvement. She accepted that she was going to Russia—nothing was going to change that. The practical thing to do would be to make the best of it. It was in her nature to do just that. And she could, if it hadn’t been for these foolish emotions that were fighting her natural inclinations.
Pride had become her worst enemy. A close second was this unreasonable stubbornness that even she hadn’t realized she was capable of. Injustice made her inflexible. Anger served only to spite herself. After all, it would cost only a little pride to give in. She needn’t even do so gracefully. Surrendering under duress, it was called. People did it all the time, in all walks of life.
If she had to be forced to do something, good Lord, why not something she could have found immense pleasure in? Why did the Prince have to choose for her, taking away the one option she would have gladly given in to in the end? Why did she deny him in the first place? Other women took lovers. A love affair, they called it. It should rightly be termed an affair of the flesh. Lust, wrapped in a pretty package. But whatever it was, she had all the symptoms. She was so attracted to the man that she couldn’t even think straight in his presence.
And he wanted her. Incredible fantasy. This fairy-tale prince, this golden god wanted her. Her. It boggled the mind. It defied reason. And she said no. Stupid ninny!
But you know why you had to refuse, Katherine. It’s morally wrong, sinful, and besides, you’re just not mistress material. You were raised to respect the sanctity of the home, and he did not, repeat, did not offer a respectable proposal.
All valid reasons, but they made cold bedfellows. Yet even if she was given a second opportunity, her answer would still have to be the same. She was, after all, Lady Katherine St. John. And Lady Katherine St. John could never take a lover, no matter how much she might secretly want to.
These thoughts filled her waking hours and only increased her sense of frustration. But she knew how to end it. All she had to do was play maid for the beautiful Princess. Nothing challenging in that. Then she would have the freedom of the ship, be able to catch glimpses of foreign coastlines, watch the sun rising and setting into the sea, in effect, enjoy the voyage.
Much as she despised the notion of acting the servant, she knew she would do it eventually. The Prince was clever in that respect. There was just so much she could take of her own company and having absolutely nothing to do. Even the clothing she was supposed to alter had been removed and given to others to work on. Hands idle, mind idle, she was bored silly.
But she wasn’t climbing the walls yet. And she wasn’t starving on her bread and water, since Marusia managed to sneak fruit and cheese in to her each day, and some of her meat-filled pastries, without the two guards stationed outside her door being the wiser. But that wasn’t why Katherine was still holding out. It was because Dimitri’s servants were begging her to give in. It seemed the Prince wasn’t taking her confinement by his order any better than she was, and that gave her the incentive to hold out longer than she might have otherwise.
Lida was the first to make her aware of Dimitri’s attack of conscience. At least that was what Katherine assumed it must be, what with the girl swearing the Prince’s black mood would lift if Katherine would just be reasonable and do as he wanted. Lida didn’t know what it was he wanted, but as far as she was concerned, nothing could be so terrible or worth rousing his anger for, because when he was angry, everyone suffered.
Katherine said nothing to this. She didn’t defend herself, offer reasons, or make excuses. She didn’t scoff either. She heard the silence the first day of her confinement and knew something was definitely wrong. It was eerie, as if she were the only one alive on the whole ship. And yet she had only to open her door to see her two guards sitting in the corridor, quite alive, if utterly silent.
Marusia was even more enlightening later that same day. “I don’t ask what you did to displease the Prince. If it was not one thing, it would have been something else. I knew it was inevitable.”
That was too intriguing to let pass. “Why?”
“He has never met anyone like you, angliiskii. You have a temper to equal his. This is not so bad, I think. He loses interest very quickly in most women, but you are different.”
“Is that all I have to do, then, to make him lose interest in me? Keep my temper under control?”
Marusia smiled. “You want him to lose interest? No, don’t answer. I won’t believe you.”
Katherine took exception to that. “I thank you for the food, Marusia, but I really don’t care to discuss your prince.”
“I didn’t think you would. But this has to be said, because what you do affects not only you, but all of us.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it? We are all aware that you are the cause of Dimitri’s present bad temper. When he gets these dark moods at home, it doesn’t matter so much. He takes himself off to his clubs, to parties. He drinks, he gambles, he fights. He releases his ill humor on strangers. But on ship, there is no outlet. No one dares raise their voice above a whisper. His mood affects everyone, depressing everyone.”
“He’s just a man.”
“To you he is just a man. To us he is more. We know in our hearts there is nothing to fear. He is a good man and we love him. But hundreds of years of serfdom, of knowing that a single man has the power of life and death, the power to make you suffer cruelly at a whim, are fears not easily ignored. Dimitri is not like that, but he is still the master. If he is not happy, how can any of us be happy who serve him?”
Marusia had more to say each time she came. And Katherine welcomed the stimulating arguments that relieve
d the boredom. But she wasn’t willing to accept responsibility for what was happening outside her small cabin. If Dimitri’s servants were fearful of becoming the outlet for his ill humor because he had no other, what was that to her? She had stood up for her rights. She could have done no differently. If that put the great Prince out of sorts, she was secretly glad. It was too bad of him, however, to frighten his servants so much that they would come beseeching her to make things right with him. Why must she forsake her principles for virtual strangers?
But then Vladimir came on the third day, forcing Katherine to reevaluate her position. If he could humble himself, however stiffly, when she knew how much he disliked her, how could she continue adhering to her pride so selfishly? Truthfully, however, he gave her the excuse she needed to compromise.
“He was wrong, miss. He knows it, and this is the reason his anger is self-directed and growing worse instead of improving. Since he never had any intention of treating you like a prisoner, he undoubtedly assumed the threat of such treatment would be all that was necessary to bend you to his will. But he underestimated your resistance to his requests. Yet it is a matter of pride now, you understand. For a man to relent and admit he is wrong is harder than it is for a woman.”
“For some women.”
“Perhaps, but what can it cost you to serve the Princess, when no one of your own acquaintance will ever know?”
“You were listening at the door that night, weren’t you?” she accused him.
He made no effort to deny it. “It is my job to know my master’s wants and needs before he makes those needs known to me.”
“Did he send you here?”
Vladimir shook his head. “He has not spoken two words to me since he gave the order for your confinement.”
“Then how do you know he regrets that order?”
“Each day you remain in this cabin his mood grows blacker. Will you please reconsider?”
It was a magic word, please, especially coming from him, but Katherine wasn’t ready to let him off the hook yet. “Why can’t he reconsider? Why must I be the one to give in?”
“He is the Prince,” he stated simply, but he had already lost his patience with her. “Sweet Mary, if I had known that your behavior could have such an effect on him, I would have risked his displeasure in London and found him some other woman. But he wanted you, and I wanted to spare us this very thing happening. It was a mistake. I am truly sorry. But what’s done is done. Can’t you see your way clear to being at least a little cooperative? Or is it that you feel you would fail at the job?”
“Don’t be absurd. What the Princess would require of a maid cannot be so different from what I would require of one of my own.”
“Then where is the problem? Did you not say you served your Queen?”
“That was an honor.”
“It is an honor to serve Princess Anastasia.”
“The devil it is! Not when I am her equal.”
His face had flushed with anger then. “Then perhaps you are better suited to the Prince’s other suggestion.”
He left her with that, as red-faced as he.
Chapter Fifteen
“I want to see Mr. Kirov.” Katherine looked from one guard to the other. The blank, uncomprehending faces were identical.
Each day a different pair of guards sat outside her unlocked door. Today it was two Cossacks, who obviously didn’t understand French. She repeated her request in German, then Dutch, English, and lastly, in desperation, Spanish. Nothing. They just stared at her, not budging from their stools.
“Typical.” She was frustrated enough to speak aloud. “They all want you to give in, Katherine, but do they make it easy for you?”
She ought to just forget it. So what if she had agonized all night reaching this decision? This was only the fourth day of her confinement. She could hold out much longer, even if Marusia didn’t sneak her food. But then there was the excuse she was holding onto. She was giving in not for herself but for the sake of others.
Liar. You want out of that cabin. It’s that simple.
She gave it one more try before her pride reasserted itself. “Kir-ov.” She used her hands to describe him. “You know? Big fellow. Alexandrov’s man.”
Both men came to life on hearing the Prince’s name. Smiles split their faces. One stood up so quickly that he knocked his stool over and nearly fell over with it. He immediately set off down the corridor toward Dimitri’s cabin.
Katherine panicked. “No! I don’t want to speak to him, you idiot!”
Whether she could have stopped him or not didn’t matter. Before he reached Dimitri’s door, it opened and the Prince stepped out.
Over the head of the Cossack, Dimitri’s eyes locked with hers while he listened to the man’s spate of words, not Russian, but some other language Katherine had never heard. The urge was great for her to retreat behind her door. She had not intended to speak to Dimitri. She had meant to give her decision to Vladimir, so that he could tell the Prince and she wouldn’t have to see him again herself. He had won. And she didn’t care to see him gloating over his victory.
But she wasn’t a coward. She stood her ground as he approached her.
“You wanted to see Vladimir?”
Her eyes flared. “Why those—those—” She glared at the two guards now standing a respectful distance away. “They understood me all along, didn’t they?”
“They know some French, but not enough—”
“Don’t tell me,” she sneered. “Just like the captain, right? Never mind.”
His expression was totally void of emotion as he gazed down at her. “Perhaps I can help you?”
“No.” Too quick. “Yes. No.”
“If you can make up your mind—”
“Oh, very well,” she nearly snapped. “I was going to give Mr. Kirov the message, but since you’re here, I might as well tell you myself. I accept your terms, Alexandrov.” He simply stared at her. Hot pink began to heat her cheeks. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes!” The word was expelled on a breath. His surprise was quite evident now, his smile nearly blinding in its brilliance. “I just wasn’t expecting… I mean, I had begun to think…”
He fell silent, being tongue-tied a whole new experience for him. And he was still at a loss for words. Sweet Christ, here he had been on his way to speak to her, to tell her to forget his stupid demands, and she did this. He still ought to tell her to forget it, that he had been a cad to try and force her to do anything, and yet—and yet it felt too good, winning this battle with her. And it did seem as though he had been through a battle these last four days, with his conscience, with his temper.
He had never dealt with a woman so ruthlessly before, and all because he wanted her while she wanted no part of him. Yet she was giving in, when he had convinced himself she never would and that there was no point in continuing to try and bend her to his will. So perhaps there was still hope after all that she would eventually succumb to his more personal requests.
“I do understand you correctly, Katya? You are now willing to work for me?”
Well, you knew he was going to rub it in, didn’t you, Katherine? This was the very reason you didn’t want to see him—well, one of them. Listen to your heart racing and you know the other reason.
“I don’t know if I would call it work,” Katherine answered tightly. “I will help your sister because she appears to be in need. Your sister, Alexandrov,” she emphasized, “not you.”
“It is all the same, since I pay her expenses.”
“Expenses? You aren’t going to mention money again, are you?”
He had been going to. Working for him, she would earn ten times what she could have earned in England for the same job. Any other woman would want to know that. But the slant of her eyes warned him not to mention it to this one.
“Very well, no talk of wages,” Dimitri conceded. “But I am curious, Katya. Why did you change your mind?”
She countered his questi
on with one of her own. “Why have you been in such a foul temper these last days?”
“How did—what the devil has that to do with anything?”
“Nothing, probably, except I was told I was the cause. I didn’t believe that for a minute, of course, but then I was also told that everyone on the ship was walking around on eggs because of this temper of yours. That’s really rather insensitive of you, Alexandrov. Your people do so try to please you, even to the detriment of others, and here you don’t even notice when you’re frightening them out of their wits. Or did you know, and just not care?”
He was frowning long before she finished. “Are you through criticizing me?”
Her eyes widened with mock innocence. “You did ask why I changed my mind, didn’t you? I was only trying to explain…”
He knew then that she was taunting him deliberately. “So you have capitulated for the sake of my poor servants, have you? If I had known you were going to be so noble, my dear, I would have ignored my sister’s needs and insisted you attend to mine instead.”
“Why, you—”
“Now, now,” he admonished, his humor restored enough to tease her. “Remember your sacrifice before you say anything that might provoke my temper again.”
“Go to the devil!”
He threw back his head and laughed delightedly. How her fury contradicted her demure appearance. Sweetly innocent she looked in her watered-silk dress of pink and white, modestly high-necked and unadorned, her hair tied back with a simple ribbon as a young child would wear it. And yet her lips were compressed tightly, her eyes sparkled with rancor, and her square little chin jutted out mutinously. Had he really worried that her refreshing spirit might be broken by his callous treatment? He should have known better.
Secret Fire Page 13