Once a Princess (22 page)

There was a positive benefit in being forced to stand there and watch her betrothed kissing another woman. It took Tanya's mind completely off that depressing tale she had just heard about her family. It also made her see red, and not just in the color of that strumpet's hair.

To give Stefan credit, however, he didn't seem to be returning the woman's enthusiastic kiss. He seemed to be trying to end it. But it was taking too damn long for him to do so, as far as Tanya was concerned. And she didn't doubt for a minute that if she weren't there to witness this reunion, he'd be participating in the kiss instead. But she was there, and he knew it, so what could he do but make this halfhearted effort to pry the redhead's arms loose from his neck?

When he finally accomplished that miraculous feat—the woman really was clinging to him—he was treated to a gushing explanation for her behavior. “It was too bad of you, Stefan, to be gone so long that
I would miss you unbelievably. And we have been so worried. Your father even sent a man who will no doubt leave within the hour to take him news of you. The anxious fellow has been a pure nuisance hanging around here, but I suppose Sandor has been as concerned about your tardiness as the rest of us, and didn't want to wait even an extra few days to hear that you have returned safely.”

“My father still lives, then?”

“I have heard nothing to say otherwise,” she assured him with a bright smile.

Tanya stiffened as the woman reached for Stefan again, obviously with the intent of showing him her delight in having him returned to her. Tanya felt a very strong urge to reach for the knife now strapped to her thigh, though she wasn't sure what she meant to do with it. It was merely a small eating knife that she had confiscated on the ship, and she had had to find a new place to conceal it after Sasha got rid of her boots, but old habits were hard to break. She might have one or more of four strapping, capable men always there to protect her, but she preferred to depend on herself.

Right now that knife would look very nice placed against the redhead's throat with a warning to back off. Of course, she would then have Stefan to deal with, and she couldn't imagine him being pleased by such an unexpected display of jealousy. And it was jealousy. She couldn't very well call it anything else when the sight of that woman kissing Stefan made Tanya mad enough to scratch her eyes out.

But how could she explain that to Stefan? He
would believe that as much as he had believed her taunt that she might be a virgin—not at all. Why should he? She had rejected him completely the very last time they were together, before the
Carpathia
had sailed. The best she could do was offer the truth, that since she had accepted their upcoming marriage, she now had it set in her mind that he belonged to her, and if she was going to have him, she wanted him exclusively.

But she couldn't even tell him that without making a complete fool of herself, because
he
didn't feel the same way. He had admitted to wanting her, but also to hating that he did. And his wanting her was so temporary, it wasn't worth mentioning. One time was all he was interested in, she supposed for the novelty or the challenge, because she
had
rejected him. Big deal.

What was more telling was his resentment that he had to marry her, and that resentment had always been crystal clear. If it wasn't a matter of duty, he'd never do it. And standing before her was still another reason that he wouldn't.

She had been told by Vasili that Stefan had a mistress. She just never dreamed she would have to meet her. Nor had it occurred to her that Stefan probably had no intention of giving up his mistress. Why should he, after all? He was being forced to marry Tanya, but standing right here was a woman he gave his affections to by choice.

It was fortunate that Stefan prevented the woman from plastering herself to him again, because Tanya honestly couldn't say what she would have done if
she had to watch them kissing again. He put his arm around her waist instead and turned her toward Tanya, and in that moment of green eyes meeting blue, Tanya knew this little demonstration of devotion had been staged for her benefit. Stefan's mistress must feel threatened by her. What a joke.

Any satisfaction she might have felt from that realization was ruined by Stefan's expression. He was so delighted to be reunited with his mistress again, he didn't even try to hide it. Tanya didn't consider that his obvious pleasure had come from hearing that his father still lived.

“Princess Tatiana, may I present to you Lady Alicia Huszar? Alicia wanted to meet you before the rest of the court, because she desires to be one of your personal attendants when you are queen.”

Over our dead body, missy
. No, over hers, Tanya corrected herself. But she'd rather die than be as obvious as they were about their feelings right now. Stefan was
not
going to know she was pea-green with jealousy. So she didn't dare say a word. She merely nodded to acknowledge the introduction.

Alicia was forced to offer a perfunctory bow now that Tanya's identity had been established. Tanya was a royal princess, after all. To do even that must have galled her, but Tanya couldn't find any satisfaction in thinking that either.

“I'm sorry, your Highness,” Alicia said, pretending surprise she couldn't possibly feel. “I didn't even notice you standing there.”

Liar. She had seen them arrive from one of the windows, or Tanya would eat her new shoes. But
she didn't say so, not directly anyway, since she still didn't trust herself to say anything to the redhead. She glanced at Stefan instead and raised a slim brow to accompany an expression as skeptical as she could make it.

He at least got the message, or she assumed he did, for he took his arm away from Alicia and frowned at her, perhaps finally realizing that she hadn't kissed him just in greeting, something he was no doubt accustomed to, but she'd done it in front of his betrothed.

Stefan, to give him his due, would want to be discreet, at least until the marriage was an accomplished fact. He probably hadn't counted on Tanya suspecting anything about his sweet Alicia. But did he really think she would accept his mistress as one of her attendants? His
mistress
, for crying out loud! If that was the way things were done in Cardinia, Tanya wasn't leaving Danzig.

 

For his part, Stefan was as embarrassed as Tanya was furious. He had left Alicia here with the promise that she wouldn't be supplanted. He had had no intention of giving her up for a woman he was being forced to marry, and although he would marry her, he had intended it to be in name only.

But he hadn't counted on his reaction to a plain-faced Tatiana, his delight that she wasn't what they'd expected, his anger that she was a whore. All he should have felt was satisfaction that she was what he could bring back to his father with the taunt, “Here is the princess you would bind me to, but neither of
us will ever know if her issue is royal or bastard.” Instead he had been fiercely glad that she would be his, had desired her from the first moment he saw her, and by the time her beauty was revealed, it was too late. His emotions were already thoroughly involved with her.

Now he knew exactly what he wanted, and it was more painful than he could have imagined, knowing that he'd never get it. She even teased him about it, perhaps not cruelly, since she didn't know how he felt, but it had hurt just the same that she could deal with the subject so frivolously. Tell her that he couldn't live without her, that he loved her madly? He'd actually found the only peace he'd known since meeting her by staying away from her on the ship, because every time he was near her, his passions were roused to either anger or desire. And he had no control over what she made him feel. Anger, lust, jealousy, love, it all went hand in hand where Tanya was concerned.

Love her? “Madly” was an apt word. God, what an utter fool he was!

Dinner that night was an excruciating affair of tempers tested to their limit, at least for Stefan. He had been unable to have a private word with Alicia, and when he did, he still wasn't sure what he was going to say to her. On the one hand, she was the most amiable mistress he had ever had, and he would hate to lose that. On the other hand, he had absolutely no desire for her at present.

That would change, undoubtedly, when he stopped torturing himself over Tanya. But Alicia wasn't the type of woman who would just sit back and wait while he agonized over another. It wasn't even fair of him to ask. It wasn't fair of him, either, to put her aside when he had assured her that wouldn't happen. That he was undecided on what to do not only was aggravating, it wasn't like him.

Then he had found himself actually walking the floor in a state of nervous unease when Alicia had taken Tanya upstairs to show her to her room. The two of them alone together, one woman in the habit
of wielding knives, though thank God she no longer wore them, the other in the habit of protecting what was hers, and Alicia still considered him hers. It didn't bear thinking of, what could happen. But nothing did, at least nothing that either of them cared to let him know about. And that, incredibly, annoyed him more than the fact that he'd worried about it.

Even Sandor's man not showing up to speak with him, after Alicia had assured him the fellow would put in an appearance, had infuriated Stefan, especially since he had prepared a missive for the man to take to his father. But the man must have merely noted his arrival and left to return to Cardinia immediately, without even asking after the princess, whom Sandor would also be anxious to hear about.

And what was he going to tell Sandor in the end about Tanya? The truth? Only half the truth?

Sandor was going to blame himself for Tanya's deplorable upbringing. Stefan half blamed him himself. To have sent only one person with the child, and not to have taken into consideration that something might happen to that single guardian…no, he couldn't tell his father the entire truth. He was going to be upset enough that Tanya hadn't been raised properly. He didn't have to know just how improperly she had turned out. But Stefan had never lied to him before. That he would start doing so, and for a woman, was intolerable.

Obviously, he was in a mood to be irritated by the slightest little thing today, but he supposed, after all those weeks at sea, he was due to let off a little steam. No, it seemed more that Tanya was going to ensure
that he did. First her strange behavior in her cabin, then again in the coach. He had expected her to be a little different after he'd been told that she no longer doubted her identity or theirs, but all that inane chatter? And such drastic mood swings? If she had set out to exasperate him, she couldn't have succeeded more thoroughly, for trying to figure out what she was up to—and he didn't doubt she was up to something—was unbelievably frustrating.

And what the devil did Vasili think he was doing, making over Alicia tonight as if she were his mistress instead of Stefan's? For Tanya's benefit? Since when did Vasili want to protect Tanya's feelings? And Alicia was only halfheartedly playing along with it. But Tanya wasn't stupid. And she had witnessed that kiss. And she didn't care. That was the most annoying thing yet today. She didn't give a damn that she was sitting at the same table with his mistress. Any other woman would, if only for the sake of form, but not his future bride.

He watched her now, sitting between Lazar and Serge, talking with them, laughing occasionally. He had never seen her like this before, at ease, apparently enjoying herself—not angry. Had he stayed away from her longer than necessary? No, he still couldn't be near her without wanting her. It was no more than she had said—she now liked Lazar and Serge both. That in no way meant she felt any differently about
him
. And for all her chatter that morning, she hadn't spoken one word to him all evening. In fact, she spoke to everyone but him. But every so often she
would glance his way and smile, and he'd grit his teeth, wondering why.

Stefan didn't know it, but his eyes were lit to the scorching point. Tanya knew it, and that was the only reason she was able to act as if she didn't have a care in the world, when in fact she felt like breaking every dish on the table over Stefan's head. And she found she was rather good at pretense, much better than Alicia, who had offered friendship with malice in her eyes.

She still couldn't believe that woman's gall this afternoon. No sooner had they entered the bedroom where Tanya was to sleep that night than the redhead had asked, “Has Stefan told you yet that your marriage will be in name only?”

“No, I suppose he forgot to mention that.”

“Oh, you poor girl.” Alicia had oozed sympathy. “You must have been dreading…well, I'm glad I can at least relieve your mind on that score. And you needn't thank me. I know how disappointed you must have been when he showed up to claim you. Those scars do take getting used to.”

“What scars?” Tanya asked, and was immensely pleased to see Alicia lose her whole train of thought, as well as her false smile.

“That isn't funny, Princess.”

“It wasn't meant to be.”

“Are you saying you don't
mind
his scars?”

Tanya turned and walked to the window to stare outside, saying nothing at all. Behind her, she heard Alicia snort.

“That's what I thought,” the redhead sneered,
then switched back to her let's-be-friends tone. “But I was trying to tell you that you won't have to worry about him playing the husband with you, not while I'm around. And don't worry about being lonely either. Stefan won't mind how many lovers you take, as long as you don't make a scandal out of it. And I'll be able to help you in that respect.”

“You know all about being discreet, do you?”

“Certainly.”

It occurred to Tanya that if she had been dreading her coming marriage, she might have been naively grateful to Alicia for her assurances. However, she knew damn well those assurances hadn't been given to be helpful, but for the opposite reason. If she had fallen in love with Stefan, her expectations were now supposed to have burst. If she were merely undecided, she'd just been warned to forget it, that he was already taken. And she had the feeling, knowing how angry her imagined lovers from the past made Stefan, he
would
mind if she took new ones, so Alicia was also setting the groundwork to cause one hell of a lot of trouble.

Tanya turned around to face Alicia, though with the window at her back, the fury brimming in her green eyes went unnoticed. Her tone, however, was unmistakably frigid. “I know a little about discretion myself, so I'm going to be discreet right now and not tell you what I think of your kind of help.”

Alicia's eyes narrowed, showing that she gave up the pretense. “You would do well to get along with me, Princess. With a word to Stefan, I'll have you begging my pardon.”

“Is that so? You think you have that much influence with the king?”

“I know I do,” she said with total confidence.

“Well, the king doesn't happen to have
any
influence with me—yet—so don't count on my begging your pardon for anything. Nor do I need him to fight my battles for me, as you do.
You
would do well to remember that.”

Alicia merely stuck her nose up in the air and huffed out of there. Tanya turned back to the window and counted to fifty, then a hundred, then way beyond that. When she was finally calm enough to unclench her fists and think rationally, she decided she wouldn't kill that woman. She'd give Stefan the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Alicia had been told to wait for him here because he had doubted he would even find Tanya. Or maybe he had originally intended to keep his mistress close at hand, because what Tanya didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Well, she did know, and he was smart enough to know she did after that kiss that was bestowed on him at the door. So she decided to give him the rest of the afternoon to get rid of the woman.

Only he hadn't done that. She'd walked into the dining room tonight to find Alicia sitting there, and not at a prudent distance from Stefan, but right next to him.

The redhead was decked out in some very splendid finery that made her look almost pretty, and she'd been laughing at some comment from Vasili, who was sitting on her other side at the table. But when she noticed Tanya, her lips curved in a smug little
smile that was almost the last straw. Tanya had given Stefan his chance and he'd tossed it away, proving that he didn't care what she thought or how she would react. So she wasn't going to react. That was, after all, her only pride-saving option under the circumstances. And, Lord help her, it was the hardest thing she'd ever done, containing that much seething anger without revealing one little bit of it. But her performance became easier when she finally noticed that her lack of reaction was, for some reason, annoying Stefan so much that his eyes were glowing like golden fire.