Authors: Johanna Lindsey
Alexandra wasn’t sure how to answer, considering that the woman
was
so fond of him. “I have sensed, just recently, that he might have a few good qualities, though he rarely shows them. But—whatever I feel for him, it
doesn’t matter. You said it yourself, how contemptuous and insufferable he can be, and that’s about all I’ve seen from him. I could never get along with someone like that.”
“And how does he get along with you—as you are?”
Alexandra blushed. “I may have pretended to be something I’m not, but I was trying to make it easy for him to end the betrothal, since I can’t.”
And that put Tanya in something of a dilemma, wondering if she should tell Alexandra the truth about Vasili, or if it wouldn’t make any difference if she knew. Lazar had told them some surprising things, about Vasili calling her “his” without realizing it, and asking Lazar to seduce her, then changing his mind, and displaying some obvious signs of jealousy over the girl. That pointed to something other than indifference as far as Tanya was concerned.
“Would you be surprised to know that Vasili has done exactly what you have?”
“What do you mean?”
“He hasn’t shown you his true self. When I said I detested him—and I really did—it was because he was doing everything possible to
make
me detest him, and he did it all deliberately.”
“Why?”
“Because women tend to fall in love with him before they even know him—it’s that face of his—and he was afraid I would do the same when I was to be Stefan’s wife, not his.
He loves Stefan, you see. They are more like brothers than cousins. And he’d do anything to assure Stefan’s happiness, including acting like the most despicable, condescending jackass imaginable, when he’s not like that at all.”
Alexandra had gone very still. “He’s not?”
“Not at all—well, perhaps a little arrogant—no, make that very. I believe arrogance runs in the family. And maybe he does occasionally belittle things that he deems unworthy with that diabolical wit of his, but he more than makes up for that with his loyalty and dedication to duty.”
“What duty? He’s no more than—”
“One of the king’s personal bodyguards, his elite guard, and quite deadly with numerous weapons, which you can see for yourself if you care to take a stroll by the training field before you leave. You know”—Tanya took a moment to reflect—“Vasili didn’t like me either when we first met. He thought I wasn’t good enough for Stefan. But when he could have let me escape—I tried to more than once—he didn’t. ‘Duty before preference’ was how he put it, and he meant it. And there’s something else you probably don’t know. He’s also incredibly charming when he’s not
trying
to be nasty.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t know,” Alexandra said in a hollow tone.
“Please, you weren’t supposed to be hurt by what I’ve told you.”
“I’m not,” Alexandra insisted, if a little stiffly.
“If Vasili has shown you the worst he can be, it’s because he didn’t want to get married. He was very upset when he learned of this betrothal. He went to Russia to—”
“Get rid of me.”
Tanya winced. “He told you?”
“Yes; he’s been quite honest about that at least.”
“But the point I was trying to make was, I’m not so sure he still feels that way. Yet he’s locked himself into this role he’s playing for you—just as you have.”
Alexandra wasn’t so sure Vasili
was
playing a role, but if she was to believe it, then that made the whole thing even worse. He was so against marriage he had to pretend—just as she did. And what would happen if she showed her true self? Would it matter? No, he had been against marriage before he’d met her, and again after, and Tanya might not be sure, but she was—he was still against it. And he
was
a lecher. The queen hadn’t contradicted that. And
she
had to be crazy even to think about it.
“Vasili might have some noble virtues I would never have guessed at,” Alexandra said. “But he’s still a lecher.”
“Yes, and probably will be—until he falls in love.”
A
lexandra decided she wasn’t going to wait for Vasili to collect her from the receiving chamber. She would use his carriage, then send it back for him, and hopefully she wouldn’t see him again for a while. She needed time to digest everything she’d been told before she spoke with him again—
if
she ever spoke with him again. At the moment, she couldn’t imagine her reaction if she had to listen to another taunting, derisive remark from him, when she knew now that it was all for effect, because he
wanted
her to despise him.
But it wasn’t all lies. What he’d told her about the way their marriage would be was undoubtedly the truth. As Nina had pointed out, most aristocratic marriages were exactly like that, though usually the terms weren’t spelled out, just mutually understood. And every time he’d pushed her to break the betrothal, he’d been expressing his true feelings. And his lecherous inclinations were also all true.
She did stop by the training field before she left the palace. She’d been unable to resist, and in the space of minutes, she watched Vasili defeat one opponent after another with his sword skill. Some court dandy, she thought in disgust. And yet the signs that he was really quite different from that had been there all along, the military physique and bearing, the way he rode a horse, his quick reflexes, how easily he’d ended that fight with Pavel when he’d got fed up, even the way he’d gallantly declined the use of swords, because he’d known Pavel wouldn’t have stood a chance with them. She’d seen only what she’d wanted to see because she hadn’t
wanted
to be impressed.
She really wished the queen hadn’t felt the need for confessions. On the return trip to the Petroff home, she recalled their parting words.
“I’d like you to be one of my ladies,” the queen had told her.
“I thank you for the offer, but I couldn’t possibly accept. I have an image to maintain for Vasili, and it isn’t exactly ladylike.”
Tanya had frowned. “Then you’re not going to tell him the truth?”
“I don’t see any point in doing so. It would cause one hell of a fight. He’d be furious with me; then I’d throw it back at him that he hasn’t been honest either. And we’d still be right where we are now, neither of us wanting to marry the other.”
The queen hadn’t been very happy with her
decision, but Alexandra wasn’t going to be budged from it. Nor was she going to delve any further into her own feelings. How she felt about Vasili simply didn’t matter when he still didn’t want to marry her. It occurred to her that there was one more thing she could do to help them both get out of this approaching marriage. She could refuse to cooperate with his mother’s training program.
Maria was already displeased with her. “Disgusted” might be a better word. And it was Vasili’s mother who’d told him he couldn’t go against his father’s wishes. That was the reason he’d given for being unable to break the betrothal. But if Maria changed her mind…
Vasili received yet another summons from his mother. He’d managed to ignore it for a day and a half, but Maria’s messengers kept showing up at his house, and finally one was sent to the palace and caught him when he was with his cousin. And Stefan’s saying, “I hope she’s not going to appeal to me again,” told him he’d better take care of it before she did.
But he knew what the countess wanted this time. After her first note of complaint had been delivered to him two weeks ago, telling him, “The girl is impossible,” and, “You’re going to have to talk to her,” he hadn’t bothered to read the others that had been sent nearly every other day. He’d merely jotted off encouraging replies such as “You can do it,
Mother,” and “I’m counting on you, Mother.” And once, still without reading the message, but because he
knew
Alexandra and he was starting to be amused by the whole thing, he’d advised, “Ignore her temper, it’s mostly hot air.”
His only surprise was that Alexandra hadn’t sent him some complaints as well. But expecting them was one of the reasons he had decided to stay away from her until her transformation was complete—or had failed. Having to deal with her temper would most likely provoke his own, which would lead to his wanting her again—and he was having enough difficulty dealing with that
without
seeing her. Fate was going to decide this thing, one way or another.
But his mother was determined to interfere with what he’d thought was an excellent plan. Still, it was possible that he might be able to see his mother, listen to her harangue, convince her that she couldn’t expect miracles in only two weeks, then leave before running into Alexandra. Now, if he could just resist the
urge
to see her…
At least his mother was alone when she joined him in her drawing room. He’d half expected her to have Alexandra in tow, dressed in one of her new gowns that she would hate wearing. But the scene was more reminiscent of the night he’d first learned of the betrothal, except it was afternoon and Maria wasn’t dressed for a social engagement—and she definitely wasn’t smiling this time.
He tried to forestall his mother’s complaints by asking, “How is the new wardrobe coming along?”
Unfortunately, that topic happened to be on Maria’s list. “The girl refuses to ‘waste any more time,’ as she puts it, with fittings, and she won’t wear the several gowns that have been completed for her already.”
“Why not?”
“They are either the wrong color, or too tight, or too loose—she never lacks for excuses.”
Vasili managed to keep from grinning. “I have the feeling she’s worn her breeches and shirts too long. She probably finds dresses too constraining now.”
“A lady can
not
go about dressed as she does!”
“I know, Mother.”
“She can’t hold a fork or a knife without dropping it. The most disgusting words come out of her mouth when she gets the least bit frustrated. And she threatened to roast my cook!”
That one caught his interest. “She got angry with Monsieur Garrard? Why?”
“Because I thought she could benefit from the experience of a seven-course meal,” Maria replied stiffly.
“But that would take hours,” he pointed out.
“Exactly, and before the sixth course arrived, she marched into the kitchen and told Monsieur Garrard that if he sent out one more
course, she’d make sure he was in it. He quit.”
“I never liked his soufflé anyway,” Vasili managed to say straight-faced before he burst out laughing.
Maria glared at him, but that didn’t curb his amusement. He wished he could have seen Alexandra in the kitchen. She must have been magnificent with her midnight eyes flashing, her breasts heaving…
“How can you laugh?” Maria demanded. “She’s no longer even pretending to try to correct her behavior. She claims we have no right to change her.”
That sobered him, and he said quietly, “She’s right, you know. We don’t have the right to try to change her.”
Apparently that wasn’t what his mother was hoping to hear, because she said, in an offended tone, “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“That I made a mistake, that I never should have insisted you collect a bride sight unseen.”
“
Is
that what you’re saying?”
“I’m telling you that you can’t marry this girl. She doesn’t want to learn how to be a lady. All she wants to do is much about in a stable. Stefan will agree. We can’t have someone like that in the family.”
“Stefan won’t care one way or the other—what about my father’s honor?”
“Vasili, I promise you, your father would
break that betrothal himself if he were alive today. He made a contract in good faith, but Baron Rubliov broke that faith by allowing his girl to turn out as she has. And you needn’t hide your relief for my sake. I
know
this is what you’ve been waiting to hear.”
It was indeed, but now that he’d heard it, he wasn’t reacting as he’d imagined he would. Instead he felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his belly.
“Where is she?”
“Locked in her room,” Maria replied. “She has been there since early yesterday morning, which is why I sent for you. She won’t open the door. She won’t even answer inquiries. I’ve never known anyone who could be so willfully stubborn.”
Neither had he. “I’ll take care of it,” he said on his way out of the room.
“Good,” she huffed. “And you can also make the arrangements to send her home. I’ve already told…”
He didn’t hear the rest of what she was saying because he had already started to run. Even as a child, he’d never reached the upper floors so quickly. That he didn’t know which room was Alexandra’s didn’t slow him down, but it was fortunate that an upstairs maid appeared to point him in the right direction, or he would have broken down every closed door in the house, locked or not.
Hers was still locked and she wouldn’t answer his demands to open it. It didn’t take him long to break it down, because his fury
was mounting at what he knew he would find. His Alex had too much courage to hide behind locked doors. And he was right. She wasn’t there. The room was empty of her possessions, too. Then he saw the letter propped against the pillows on the bed. And next to it lay the ring he had given her.
Your mother has told me that you can’t marry me, Petroff, so I am released from my promise. In your happiness over this news, I hope you will grant me a favor. It is too soon for my horses to travel again, so I ask that you allow them to remain in your stable until I send for them. I have left their grooms to see to their care. If you don’t agree, inform the head groom, Bulavin, and he will make other arrangements
.
Now I must tell you how sorry I am for all the trouble I put you through. Please be assured that I bear you no grudge. In fact, I wish you well, Petroff
.
Vasili read the letter a second time, then a third, but it still didn’t sound like Alexandra. The words were too stiff, and the sentiment? She bore him no grudge, was sorry, actually wished him well? Not his Alex. And how did she dare to leave? How did she dare to assume that his mother’s word was the final word?
He
hadn’t released her from her promise.
To hell with fate. Give it a chance, and damned if it didn’t suit you.