Gypsy Jewel (29 page)

“Do you not know who I am? I am more than a princess, I am also Alexsandr Menshikov’s niece.” Tatiana waited for his reaction, and when met with a puzzled stare, she supplied patronizingly, “The commander of the Russian armies at the front. You must have seen him. The large, glowering man sitting by me at your performance.”

Damien had indeed, and he had also managed to brush close enough to Menshikov during the dancing later to overhear interesting comments about the latest troop movements.

He shrugged in apparent ignorance. “I am Romany. War does not concern me.”

“How fortunate for you, Demetro. It seems that I am always being tugged about in political discussions nowadays.” She sighed petulantly, then blinked her large dark eyes up at him. “I would much rather be tugged about in matters of love, wouldn’t you?”

Instead of being enticed by her obvious ploys, Damien was repulsed. He could not help but contrast April’s fresh, unsullied air with that of Tatiana, who had known so many men that it had become a sad addiction with her. He recalled her as an insatiable lover, demanding and tireless, and with no shred of modesty.

Tatiana had not changed, he soon saw, when on the seat beside him she suddenly unlaced her gown and let her full breasts spill out in full view of any passerby.

Enjoying his obvious shock, Tatiana murmured throatily, “Touch me. Take me if you want. Here and now. Why wait?”

Once he would have jumped at the chance to couple anywhere with a willing woman, but Damien carefully masked his revulsion with a fierce look that shot thrills through the obviously jaded princess.

“Cover yourself. You will not do anything tonight without my orders.” He saw in a flash that his gamble paid off. Tatiana was startled but scrambled to do his bidding. She apparently craved a strong man, subject as she was to endless court fops with weak wrists and wills that could not match her own.

Her dark eyes gleamed with excitement as she whispered, “When will you take me?”

“When and where I decide,” Damien responded curtly, suspecting correctly that his little game only thrilled her further. Suddenly submissive, Tatiana remained silent for most of the ride, only asking once, “Why be a gypsy, Demetro? You could pass for nobility, given the right clothes and manners.”

“Does it matter why?” he asked, trying to quell her curiosity with a smoldering glance.

Tatiana took the ruby-encrusted combs from her hair and shook the flaming red locks out over her shoulders. “No,” she said huskily, “but for a moment there, you reminded me of someone. I can’t think who.”

Damien’s blood turned to ice as the princess snuggled against him, boldly running a hand up his thigh. “Don’t worry,” she assured him softly, tauntingly, “I’ll remember eventually. I never forget a face.”

O
LD MEN, YOUNG MEN,
thin and tall or short and lumpish, April felt she danced with them all. She was not sorry to leave the ball, but welcomed the chance to rest her aching feet in the coach as they left. Beside her Ivanov sat stiffly lost in his own thoughts, and she was secretly glad that he was not in the mood to subject her to another history lesson.

Some of the night’s magic had worn thin for her since Damien’s appearance. She could not tear him from her thoughts, though she refused to dwell on the last memory she had of him, leaving the festivities early with Tatiana Menshikov on his arm.

Surely he was not charmed by that redheaded snake of a woman. Perhaps the princess had lured him with promises of other concerts or
boyar
sponsorship. Certainly, Damien had played exceptionally well. He had put more emotion into his music this night than April remembered hearing before. But she could not let herself get carried away into supposing he still wanted her, no matter what he had said there at the ball.

She must have made a weary sound, for Ivanov suddenly said, “I know you are tired, but I hope you’ll join me for a final toast when we return to Samarin.”

April glanced at his inscrutable face half-hidden by shadows. “Are we celebrating something?”

“In a way, yes.” But he offered her no information. “You certainly were a success tonight. So many men were entranced by you.” He sounded a little sad.

Seeking to cheer him, April agreed to stay up a little later on this special night. She did not admit her bone-weariness but thought of her host instead. Count Ivanov had been generous in giving her beautiful clothes and a new start in life if she chose to take it.

He had unerringly offered the simple explanation time and again to the overly curious
boyar
at the ball that April was his distant cousin, recently orphaned but of the same fine lineage as he. He did not lie about her origins when he said she came from a small Georgian province in the south. Given her fairness and her exquisite bearing, nobody had questioned it. April quickly discouraged two persistent suitors on her own.

Soon they were back at Samarin House, but April wished to change her attire before reappearing downstairs. Ivanov looked disappointed, but agreed, retreating directly to the study himself. They had arrived earlier than planned, and most of the house was silent and dark. The hall itself had not been lit when they came in.

Following the faint light from gas lamps, April gathered up her velvet skirts and went up the series of stairs, her slippers making no sound on the smoothly polished mahogany.

When she came to the Gold Room, she was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. She was sure she had closed it firmly before she had departed. Then, seeing a rustle of movement through the crack, she hesitated and peered in. Perhaps Zofia was only turning down the covers or stoking the fire. But what she saw made her heart begin to pound furiously. Someone — mostly hidden in darkness, so she wasn’t sure who — was frantically riffling through the contents of the vanity table. As if they purposefully looked for her jewel.

Though she was frightened, April was outraged. She knew the count would expect her to confront a thief, and he would surely stand behind her in doing so. She only hoped the intruder did not have a weapon. When she heard the scrabbling of anxious fingers beneath the vanity, right where the secret drawer held her diamond, she knew she must act swiftly.

Pushing open the door, April cried, “What are you doing in my room?”

As she had half-suspected from the beginning, it was Zofia who whirled around and stared back at her with crazed eyes. Without answering, the maid turned back to the vanity one last time and gave a triumphant tug on the drawer she had just found.

“No!” Desperately April threw herself at the woman and the impact knocked them both to the Aubusson rug on the floor. But it was too late. The drawer had been pulled out, and the diamond fell with a muffled thud on the rug, and rolled a distance away.

Tangled in her voluminous skirts, April was unable to get a good grasp on the wild-eyed Zofia who lunged after the gem and its betraying sparkle. The maid finally crawled to grab up the jewel just as April came to her feet again and darted for the open door to try and cut off Zofia’s escape.

Cupping the gemstone in her violently trembling hands, Zofia stared at it a long moment and then raised her gaze to April’s. Suddenly she hissed, “I will not let you destroy him.”

“Who?” April cried, seeing wild emotion in the woman’s eyes. Clearly, Zofia was demented and reliving some terrible nightmare in her head.

But Zofia only clenched the jewel so tightly that her fist whitened, and shook it in April’s direction. “You thought you could come back and haunt him as she did. But I will not let you hurt him. No, I shall kill you myself first, and you can molder in your graves together then.”

Horrified by the maid’s ranting, but at the same time curious to know what Zofia knew about the jewel, April played along for a daring moment. Softly she said, “I don’t want to hurt anybody, Zofia, as I am sure you don’t either. But you seem to be determined to have the diamond. Do you need the money so badly?”

Zofia stared at her a second and then laughed with a twisted fierceness that took the young woman aback. “You thought you could hide it from me, eh? As if I couldn’t figure out your games, hiding the jewel and pretending to be a gypsy. I recognized you at once. Your mother swore she would have her revenge one day when I took the babe from her dying arms, but I never believed it. And I will not let you destroy Vasili as she vowed to do from the grave.” Zofia drilled a stare full of hatred deep into April’s shock-widened eyes, and the younger woman gathered the facts.

“Baby?” she breathed, her thoughts like lightning as she remembered the circumstances of her own birth almost eighteen years ago. “That diamond was found around my neck as a baby, Zofia. Why?”

“Because I put it there,” the maid shrieked at her. “In my youth I was soft and foolish, and could not bring myself to kill a helpless babe. So I left you in the snow for God to take you instead. And when I returned, you and the diamond were both gone.”

Staggered by the impact of knowledge, April whispered desperately, “Who was my mother, Zofia? Why was she dying? You must tell me.” She clutched at the bed poster for support, knowing the terrible truth was rising to drown her in a matter of moments.

Zofia shook her head impatiently. “It is not important now. What matters is that I have the diamond back, and you are revealed for what you really are.” She gave a diabolical little laugh. “Do you know what will happen when the count finds out who you are?”

“Yes. He will have you branded and hung as a thief. And he is right downstairs, Zofia. Don’t be foolish. Give it back to me now and I will plead leniency for you.”

The maid only shook her head wildly and suddenly lunged past April, knocking the younger woman roughly aside.

In her tight stays and full ball gown April could not catch the woman. She kicked off her satin slippers and sprinted after Zofia in a valiant attempt, but the maid disappeared down the maze of shadowy halls.

Breathing hard, April headed for the stairs. She must alert the count. Ivanov would be concerned to find such a madwoman in his house. As she flew back down the staircase with the blue velvet gown bunched in her hands, April heard a soft cackle of crazy laughter somewhere up above her. The hair rose on her neck but she hurried on, arriving dazed and breathless at the door to Ivanov’s study.

“What is wrong, my dear?” The count was sitting by the fire and rose, concerned, when she bolted into the room. She saw by his expression he was shocked to see her hair half-tumbled down to her shoulders and the panic in her eyes.

“Zofia,” April managed to gasp out, pointing back the way she had come.

“What has happened? You are distraught. Come and sit by the fire.” Ivanov spoke in a strange calm way and yet April was too distressed to notice the odd glaze that had suddenly filmed over his dark eyes at the sight of her in the blue ball gown.

“I found Zofia in my room. She was going through the vanity, and when I confronted her she said all sorts of mad things —”

But Ivanov only turned, reached down to an ornate table beside the chair he had been sitting in and picked up a pair of matching fluted glasses which reflected rainbow colors as he extended one to her. “Shall we have that toast now?” he proposed pleasantly.

Was everyone mad? April shook her head. “How can you call for a drink at a time like this?” Then she wondered if Ivanov had perhaps been drinking on his own while she was upstairs, and was overcome with the effects now. But his speech was precise as he raised a quizzical brow at her.

“How? Because I have waited forever for this. You see, it is time to announce our engagement. I wish to seal our love tonight with a toast, and something you will cherish forever.” He smiled indulgently at her, as if to a child, and then exchanged the glasses for a long flat velvet box when she refused to take a glass from him. “Come now, Katya. Do not sulk. I know you will be delighted —”

April pressed her hands to her head, trying to stop the waves of dizziness that threatened to weaken her now. What game was he playing? When he snapped open the box she only stared at the beautiful collar of emeralds glittering against the black velvet.

“They match your eyes, beloved,” Ivanov said in a voice thick with emotion as he took the necklace out. “Let me put them on you. I want to see them gracing your lovely neck tonight. It would make me the happiest of men.”

April shook her head wildly, choked with fear and unable to scream as he advanced, murmuring softly.

“I forgot to tell you what a princess in truth you were tonight,” he said, and smiled at her. “I am sure your uncle would be most proud, had he lived to see your coming-out. You stole the spotlight and the hearts of men this eve, Katya. It is no wonder that you are hailed as the Circassian Cat. You are clever, my dear.”

Suddenly Ivanov was before her, just a hand span away, and his hot breath came hard and fast upon her cheek. April froze in a mixture of indecision and fear, and he took the advantage to trail his icy fingers upon her neck. In a moment the sapphire necklace she was wearing slid off into his hand and he set it aside. He substituted the heavier emerald choker and secured the clasp.