Once a Princess (21 page)

“Why so stiff, Stefan?” Tanya asked as soon as they settled into the waiting coach.

He'd grabbed her arm, whisked her out of her cabin and off the ship, all without saying a word to her, but she was determined to open him up today, to get inside his thoughts, even if she had to get him angry again to do it. Fortunately, the others weren't there to try to stop her. Lazar and Serge were seeing to the baggage and would follow in another carriage. Vasili was disposing of the ship. It seemed it had been bought only to fetch her home from America. Cardinia having no navy, situated so far inland as it was, they now had no further use for the ship.

“Is it the clothes?” she persisted when Stefan didn't even glance her way. “Do they make you feel more kingly, less like a—commoner?” No answer. “Well, you were right. Definitely too conspicuous for Mississippi.”

“What
are
you talking about, Tanya?”

He still wasn't looking at her. Trying to get his goat was getting her own.

“Oh, nothing important. I understand now why you didn't open up that second trunk of clothes for use while you were in America. You would have stood out like a sore thumb in such strange garb, wouldn't you?”

Actually, he looked grand dressed all in black, in an outfit that seemed military in design. The gleaming knee-high boots, with trousers tucked into them, were tight enough to define his leg muscles. The velvet jacket was more like a tunic, crossed with silver-gray braid and frogs from neck to waist, then with an open seam, also braided, from waist to mid-thigh, where the tunic ended. Around his waist was a thick belt worked in silver with a splendid leather scabbard also set with silver, and containing a sword that was so fancy, it had to be mere decoration. He wore a sable-edged velvet coat draped over his shoulders like a cape, held in place by a silver link chain with jeweled clasps. To top this off was a hat of the same brown sable fur that merely circled his head, what Lazar called a
kucsma
.

Although her question was supposed to rile him, all Stefan said in reply to her observation was, “Look out your window before you call my clothing strange.”

He was right as usual. There was no denying she was in a foreign land where people dressed and looked like nothing she was accustomed to.

Tanya had been told the country they were in might be Prussia now, but it had once been the kingdom
of Poland, and was still populated mostly by Poles, especially here in the old harbor city of Danzig. And these Poles, men and women both, seemed to favor extremely long coats with the most unusual sleeves, wide from shoulder to elbow, then slashed down the front from elbow to cuff. They were long sleeves, much longer than the length of the arm, and hardly any were cuffed. People just let the sleeves dangle down at their sides or threw them back over their shoulders. One man who looked like a soldier had his tied at the back of his neck. The hats or bonnets were different, too, mostly flat, some tall and oddly shaped; and the men's hair was either shoulder-length or cut extremely short in a round crop on the very top of their heads.

“I see what you mean,” Tanya allowed and gave up attacking his clothes, which were actually very moderate in comparison. She tried the congenial approach again. “You know, Stefan, I've learned so much about you on this voyage, I feel like we're old friends now.”

His expression hardened considerably. He didn't know what she was referring to, and she could see that annoyed the hell out of him. Good. She smiled to herself and abruptly switched subjects again.

“Lazar couldn't tell me much about my father, other than how greatly he was admired for continuing the tradition of his ancestors in keeping the Ottoman Empire from taking over Cardinia as it has so many of her neighbors. Your father has also kept those people at bay, hasn't he?”

“We have excellent treaties with the Turks, but
even more importantly, good relations. The Janaceks have always believed in offering a genuine hand of friendship—after they defeat the enemy. The Baranys are of the same philosophy.”

“Yes, well, Lazar said I should ask your Prime Minister, Maximilian Daneff, about the more personal side of my father, since he knew him well. But he said that you could tell me about the blood feud that killed him and the rest of my family in a matter of months.”

That finally made him look at her in surprise. “You still don't know why you were sent away? Vasili could have told you—”

“I didn't care to ask him,” she interrupted. “But you, on the other hand, I can ask anything, since you're going to be my husband.”

That startled him even more, enough to ask, “You have accepted it?”

Tanya shrugged with a degree of indifference. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“You.”

“How?” he demanded, his gaze suddenly so intense, she had trouble holding it.

“Oh, I don't know. You could try convincing me that you want to marry me, that you have found you can't live without me, that you love me madly.”

He was frowning so furiously now, she dropped her gaze. Well, she supposed she
could
have sounded serious instead of facetious, and ended with the words “want to marry me” instead of getting ridiculous
with the rest. Now he thought she'd been making fun of him.

Great going, missy. You had a golden opportunity there that you just wasted. No damn guts
.

She wondered if she ought to apologize. She stole a quick glance at him and nearly gasped. His eyes were as hot as live coals. She'd made him so angry, it was a wonder she wasn't already stretched out on her back and being devoured with kisses…Desire slammed through her system at the mere possibility, one she hadn't realized until that moment. She'd only been nipping at his temper to get him to reveal something of his feelings to her. She hadn't even considered the consequence of making him lose his temper completely, but the consequence was there, and she wouldn't mind if it happened right now. And how much easier to have it taken out of her hands so she wouldn't have to entice him and risk rejection.

“Do you require a reply, Princess?”

His voice was so low and menacing, she shivered. He was controlling his temper by a thin thread. The wrong answer to his question could snap it. Did she want to be made love to in a moving coach, in broad daylight? She didn't really care at the moment.

Her chin rose stubbornly. “Yes.”

“Marrying me will make you a queen,” he reminded her. “That is sufficient reason for you to accept it graciously—if not willingly.”

That was
not
the answer she had hoped to hear. And it looked as if he was going to keep his temper under control, no matter what.

She made an effort to readjust her expectations to
reality. Finally she sighed and turned to stare out the window again.

“I wouldn't know,” she said to finish the subject. “I'm still adjusting to being a princess, and all I can say for that is the title comes with nice clothes.” Then, more stiffly she said, “You were going to tell me about the blood feud.”

“Was I?”

She glanced at him with a tight little smile. “Yes, you were, if for no other reason than because
you
feel I ought to know.”

She waited, silently, while he just stared at her with those devil's eyes. When some of the heat went out of them, she knew he had decided that she would at least treat this subject with the seriousness it deserved.

“It began with the execution of Yuri Stamboloff. He was the oldest son of a very powerful baron, which was perhaps why he felt he was above the law. He killed his mistress only because he suspected her of being unfaithful. It was an act committed not in rage or passion, but calmly, cold-bloodedly, and stupidly, before five witnesses. Because he was a baron's son, he was brought before your father, King Leos, for judgment and was executed. There was nothing else to be done. But Yuri's father, Janos Stamboloff, didn't believe his son was guilty of this murder. You see, the dead woman had first been the mistress of your brother.”

“I had a brother old enough to have a mistress?” Tanya asked in surprise. “Wasn't I supposed to have been a baby at this time?”

“You were not even born yet when the murder took place,” Stefan explained, adding, “Though you were expected. And you had three brothers. The oldest, the Crown Prince, was sixteen that year.”

She was no longer surprised, but horrified. “Sixteen and he's discarding mistresses!”

“There are some women who would seduce a baby to advance their circumstances. At court, it doesn't matter who you use, as long as you use them to your advantage, and a sixteen-year-old boy would be a prime target for manipulation.”

“I suppose you've discovered all these conscienceless women for yourself?” she asked tersely.

He smiled for the first time that day. “Of course.”

Tanya couldn't believe how angry she suddenly felt, imagining hordes of women fawning over Stefan, seducing him, just to see what they could get out of him. And that damn smile of his said he had enjoyed every bit of it, whether the women's ploys had worked or not.

It was all she could do to keep from glowering at him, so she didn't dare pursue that subject any further. “So the dead woman was first my brother's mistress. Why would that lead Janos to believe his own son was innocent?”

“Because he couldn't believe Yuri was capable of such a crime. In his mind, someone else had to have committed it, and your brother was the most likely candidate. Janos claimed the boy killed the woman in a fit of jealous passion when she wouldn't return to him, then bought witnesses to blame Yuri for the crime. He also claimed that Leos had Yuri executed instead of banished because Yuri could prove he was innocent, and Leos was protecting his own son.”

“Is it possible that Yuri
was
innocent?”

“No. One of the witnesses was a bishop of the
church. Another was Yuri's own servant. Only an enraged father would doubt them. Besides, your brother was well accounted for the entire day of the murder.”

“So then what happened?”

“Janos had your brother killed.”

“How?”

“How he did it doesn't matter, Tanya. Suffice it to say—”

“How?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his scars quivering as he ground his teeth together in protest at her persistence. She almost took back the question. But she already knew the end of this tale, so the details couldn't make it any worse. Her whole family had been killed. This was a known fact and she considered it tragic. But she had yet to actually feel anything personal about them. They simply weren't real to her because she had no memory of them. If she was going to grieve, it would be for that lack of memory.

She tried to explain that to Stefan. “If you're hesitating because you think I'm going to get upset over any of this, don't. These people might be related to me by blood, but for twenty years I didn't know anything about them, and I still don't know anything other than what you tell me. And from what you've told me so far, I have as much sympathy for the Stamboloffs as I do for the Janaceks—with the exception of Yuri.”

“Then let me see if I can correct that, Princess. Your brother, innocent in all of this, was taken from his own bed one night, dragged before the entire
Stamboloff family for a mock trial, and found guilty. Janos then had him tied to a wall in his courtyard, and each member of that damn family put a bullet into him, even Janos' eight-year-old grandson. His body was left on the road outside the palace. The blood-soaked note attached to him said, ‘A son for a son.' However, this wasn't enough proof against Janos—not until one of his daughters-in-law had too much to drink at a party and happened to brag about it to the wrong people.”

“I hope Janos was shot on the spot!”

Stefan raised a brow at her. Color came back to cheeks that had gone quite pale.

“You have no sympathy left for that fanatic?”

“None,” she said more quietly.

“Well, he wasn't shot on the spot. He was tried and sentenced to hang. The day after the execution, Leos' only brother, sister-in-law, and their two children were found in their home with their throats cut. The note left behind this time was explicit. ‘Every Janacek dies now.'”

“But that was a wanton act of vengeance. How could they justify it?”

“They didn't have to. Two of their own had been killed. Those remaining now saw this as a personal war with the king, a blood feud, and there were a goodly number of them remaining—Janos' second son, five grandsons, two younger brothers, and three nephews. Janos had also called for revenge, his very last words on the scaffold before he was hung. But it was now treasonous, this revenge, with Leos himself being threatened. The five older men were killed
resisting arrest. The grandsons and one remaining nephew, all under eighteen years of age at that time, were merely banished.”

“You didn't mention the women. What about that daughter-in-law?”

“There were two Stamboloff wives, and Janos had one daughter. They were eventually banished from Cardinia, along with the men, when it was suspected that one of them drowned your sister in her bath.”

“I had a sister, too?” Tanya asked in a small voice.

“She was fourteen, the second oldest child. But getting every Stamboloff out of the country still didn't stop the killings. Ion Stamboloff, Janos' oldest grandson, was caught attempting to kill Leos' cousin, the only living son of your great-uncle, who was already deceased.”

“Why him?”

“He bore the name Janacek,” Stefan said simply.

“But he survived?”

“No. A month later they went for him again and succeeded. It was Janos' daughter this time, found before she could leave the city. Then your two younger brothers were shot a few weeks before you were due to be born. This caused your mother to start her labor early. You were born small, but healthy. Your mother, however, never completely recovered. She had lost all of her children but you, and you were betrothed the very day of your birth. They say that Leos' insistence that the betrothal be finalized immediately was an indication he didn't expect to live much longer himself, and that contributed to your mother's decline. When you were three months old,
she died of natural causes that a healthy woman could have easily withstood.”

“And my father?”

“Leos was stabbed in the back at his own table while he was eating dinner. The assassin had slowly worked his way up through the kitchen and had finally been allowed to serve at the table. He had no hope of escaping. He knew that. A confession revealed that he was dying of some disease, that the money he had taken to kill the king was for his family, the only way he could leave them cared for.”

“But did he reveal that a Stamboloff had hired him?”

“Not
a
Stamboloff, Princess. That family was so arrogant by then in their hate for the Janaceks that there had been no secrecy in hiring this man. He named each one of them, the two remaining women right down to Ivan, Janos' youngest grandson, and since they each had contributed something of value for the assassin's payment, they all shared in this victory. And for them it was a victory. A Barany was put on the throne because the last Janacek wasn't expected to live out the year if she remained in Cardinia.”

“So I was sent away?”

“Not immediately, not until the first attempt was made on your life. Your nurse died instead. My father then devised the plan to send you away in secrecy, with only Baroness Tomilova to know of your whereabouts. He also put a high price on the head of each Stamboloff.”

“Even the children?”

“They didn't quibble about killing children,” he replied harshly. “Your youngest brother was six years old.
You
were five months old when your nurse took the bullet meant for you. This was a blood feud, Tanya. It would not be over until one family or the other was completely destroyed. They wouldn't stop until you were dead. We couldn't bring you home until the last one of them was found and eliminated. But they were no longer children. It took years to find just one of those remaining, for they scattered and went into hiding when you disappeared. And only one of them was captured without a fight and brought back to be executed for treason, the rest all fighting to the end. And the last, Ivan, wasn't found until this year. Even then, he nearly escaped in a ship. But he left port so quickly, he didn't have enough crew to handle the storm they met. His ship went down in the Black Sea. Sandor's men were close enough behind to pick up any survivors, but Ivan wasn't one of them.”

“Are you sure he was the last?”

“The Stamboloffs weren't just enemies of your family. Their assassination of the King of Cardinia made them enemies of the crown. A unit of twenty men was formed for the specific task of hunting them down. These men didn't make mistakes. It may have taken twenty years, but they were thorough.”

“But a child, grown to manhood and not seen for ten or fifteen years. Who could possibly recognize him and say for certain this is a Stamboloff?”

Stefan grinned at her. “An excellent point, little Tanya.” He went on without noticing the blush that
his near endearment caused her. “But the Stamboloffs were one of those unique families whose members looked alike—at least the men did. The remaining grandsons were each dark of skin, blond, and blue-eyed, and all bore a striking resemblance to Janos and his sons when they were full-grown. And not one but five of Sandor's men knew the Stamboloffs personally. When they found one, there was never any doubt that they had found the right man.”

Tanya shook her head slowly, denying the emotion churning inside her. “All those deaths, because one old man couldn't accept that his son was a murderer. Yuri must have hidden his true character well from his loved ones.”

“It is human nature to do so.”

“Is it?” she asked in a whisper. “I wouldn't know. I've never had any loved ones.”

He couldn't mistake the mist forming in her eyes. His hand reached toward her, but drew back as the coach stopped. She didn't notice, turning her head aside to dab briskly at her eyes.

“Where are we?”

“At a house I have on the outskirts of town. We will spend the night here while everything is readied for the last leg of our journey.”

His hand was offered again, but this time to help her from the coach.

“You own a house here, so far from home?”

“I merely leased it when we came through Danzig in the spring.”

Tanya turned a look of amazement on him. “And you kept it all these months just so you would have
somewhere to spend one night on your return? Lord help us, Stefan, someone ought to have a serious talk with you about the way you squander money.”

He laughed because
she
was serious. “The house cost very little, Tanya.”

She looked up at the two-story edifice and exclaimed, “Sure it did!”

“And it was needed for the attendants who were left behind.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense,” she replied dryly. “Especially since it only takes a few weeks to reach Cardinia from here—but you've been gone, what, seven or eight months?”

He frowned at her now and took her elbow to lead her up to the front door. “The cost was negligible,” he said with curt dismissal, “and my attendants chose to wait for me here. I fail to see—”

The door flew open, and a lusciously curved redhead threw her arms around Stefan's neck and plastered her lips to his mouth. Stefan could “fail to see” till his eyes fell out, but Tanya could see perfectly well why this
attendant
had chosen to wait for him here.