Forever in Your Embrace (12 page)

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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Historical, #Nobility, #History, #Europe, #Russia & the Former Soviet Union, #Russia

BOOK: Forever in Your Embrace
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“My dear Countess Synnovea,” he murmured warmly, stepping forward to cradle her hand within the slender length of his. Garbed in a royal blue kaftan bedecked with elaborate embroidery, Aleksei looked like some bronze-skinned sheik from the deserts of Arabia. His warm brown eyes glowed with provocative fervor as they held her gaze in a commanding vise. Beneath a carefully groomed mustache, his red lips widened into a sultry smile. “I had nigh forgotten how lovely you are, my dear. You’re as enchanting as an elegant swan.”

A barrage of accusations tempted Synnovea’s tongue, and though her eyes chilled briefly to indicate her displeasure with his unabashed invasion of her privacy, she held her silence. Still, she was not above purloining some subtle revenge. Deftly she slipped her hand from his, forbidding him the opportunity to kiss the pale fingers, and opened a bejeweled fan between them. Cleverly she denied his compliments as well, aware that Anna was regarding them with icy shards of enmity glittering in her eyes. As the recipient of that chilling glower, Synnovea understood clearly what it felt like to be loathed by another woman.

“I’m humbled by such words of charity, Prince Aleksei.” She feigned a doleful look of regret. “Though sweet succor to my ears, I fear your kindness is exceeded only by your pity for me.”

Her gentle scolding brought a smile of amiable humor to Aleksei’s sensual lips. While he recognized the vexation in her distant manner, it served to whet his appetite all the more. He was intrigued by her spirit, for he had often derived ecstatic pleasure in making conquests among the most reluctant virgins and noting their subsequent compliance to his every whim. Because of the accessibility of her tremendous beauty, this particular maiden promised to be exceptionally sweet provender upon whom his ravenous lusts could be indulged. Her grace and charm would lend great satisfaction to the tryst, at least more than any in which he had recently indulged.

The prince met Synnovea’s aloof stare while his own smoldering gaze promised a fervent seduction. He was confident of achieving his goal. What woman could long resist his amorous attentions and hawkish good looks? His black hair, streaked with gray at the temples, and his warm, swarthy complexion enhanced his handsome features and accentuated his appeal despite a total of twoscore and three years behind him. As he leaned toward Synnovea, his husky whisper conveyed an unfaltering boldness. “Are you really so innocent of your marvelous beauty and its effect on men, my dear?”

“Kind sir, pity me and desist of such flattery before you turn my head,” Synnovea begged coolly, recognizing the challenge twinkling in his darkly shining eyes.

“Flattery?” He laughed in warm amusement. “Oh, nay! I fear it’s infatuation, pure and simple, that makes me speak as I do.”

Feeling decidedly threatened by his temerity, Synnovea lifted the fan higher to flick it in irritation before her hotly burning cheeks. She could understand more accurately now why Aleksei’s reputation had preceded him. He applied his beguiling enticements with the crafty art of a true philanderer and boldly advanced his exploits with unmitigated verve. He didn’t seem the least bit inhibited by his wife’s presence. Indeed, he was brazenly forward, showing little regard for her feelings, while he forced their guest to strike down his overtures and parry his comments in such a way as to hopefully deflect the sharp blade of Anna’s resentment.

Synnovea was adamant in her resolve not to fall victim to his lascivious gambits. Nor would she, for even a moment, allow him to entertain the idea that she would become another willing plaything. Circumventing his ploy, she deliberately drew Anna into the contest. “No need to extend your mercy to the extreme, my lord. I can see quite clearly the high degree of beauty by which I must be judged and am quite resolved to endure the shortcomings of this poor flask that you see before you, knowing it’s far beyond my ability to hold a candle to Princess Anna who would shame the very sun with her radiance.”

Aleksei drew back to stare at his glowering wife with a jaundiced eye and managed a brief twitch of a smile. “Why, of course,” he replied with a dearth of enthusiasm and then allowed himself to be more magnanimous. “I suppose it’s like the gem that’s too close at hand.”

“Sometimes,” Anna interjected in glacial tones, barely moving her tensed lips, “the rare jewel is overlooked when a more colorful yet far less worthy bauble attracts the eye.”

Ivan came forward from the windows, where he had been all but obscured by shadows, and gave Synnovea a lengthy scrutiny which by no means was intended as a compliment. “I’m greatly heartened, Countess, that you’ve finally regarded the garments of your homeland suitable to don. I was sure you were averse to wearing them.”

“On the contrary,” Synnovea replied, forcing a smile. “I simply had no desire to see such treasures ruined by the journey.”

“But surely you have less extravagant
sarafans
that you could’ve worn while traveling,” Ivan argued, reveling in the disapproval that Anna had already demonstrated toward the girl. To exact revenge at every turn of the hand while remaining a saint in the eyes of the princess was a temptation he couldn’t resist. “Now tell us true, my lady, was your goal to look your prettiest for your escort?”

His question awakened a nettling irritation within her. “You imagine too much, Ivan.”

Aleksei interceded on her behalf, fully aware of the hostility to which she had fallen prey. He disregarded as irrelevant the fact that his wayward propensities were primarily to blame for his wife’s animosity. For the most part, he ignored Anna’s temper tantrums and visited her bed only when no other distractions were conveniently at hand or when he wanted to maneuver her opinions on certain matters. Like most women, she found it hard to resist his lustful bent, but her penchant for nagging usually drove him off in frantic pursuit of unexplored territories. “Synnovea is fortunate to be so well traveled, and as she has clearly demonstrated, she has become well versed in both cultures and is just as comfortable in our
sarafans
as in those horrible, stiff English ruffs.” He turned to Synnovea. “I do applaud your diversity, my dear. You’re clearly young enough to be pliable to a variety of changes.”

Anna gritted her teeth in a badly feigned smile as her husband met her glare with a purposefully dull gaze. His dark brow lifted tauntingly, deepening her resentment until she promised herself that if he didn’t escape the manse, as was his habit at late hours, she’d take him to task for blatantly flaunting the youth of their ward in her face.

Boris entered the room to announce that a
zakuski
had been laid out in the dining room in honor of the guests. As the servant withdrew, Anna faced Ivan and Synnovea. “You both must be thoroughly exhausted after your recent encounter with that band of thieves.” She ignored Aleksei’s start of surprise and continued with her carefully delivered ruse of concern. She was anxious to air her displeasure with her husband in the privacy of her chambers and made the necessary excuses for their guests’ speedy withdrawal. “I shall endeavor to remember your great weariness and not delay you overlong with my chattering. But for now, a little wine and a few delicious morsels will help assuage your hunger.”

Anna led the way into the dining hall, but not without directing a warning glower over her shoulder as Aleksei fell in behind Synnovea. The princess was aware that from that angle he could appease himself with a closely attentive perusal of their young ward, a practice he had long employed with every beautiful young woman who had come into their home.

The Taraslovs and their guests came together around the food-laden buffet to partake of the caviar, sardines,
balyk,
ham, and other delectable selections often served prior to the main meal whenever visitors were present. In making his own way to the sideboard, Aleksei deliberately passed near the girl to sample the elusive fragrance of English violets that drifted from her before he deigned to join his wife. Boris laid out an intricately woven bread basket filled with slices of freshly baked
khlebny
and poured a lemon-flavored vodka for the men and a milder, wild-black-cherry
Chereunikyna
for the ladies.

Aleksei accepted the piece of bread that Anna had spread with a generous portion of caviar before stepping back with his libation and directing a question to their new charge. “What is this that I hear about thieves, Synnovea? Am I to believe you were accosted by renegades on your journey here?”

Synnovea had actually opened her mouth to explain when Anna interrupted with her own version. In good manner the younger woman could do naught but close her mouth and listen.

“A ghastly tale of murder and mayhem.” The princess shook her head almost sorrowfully as a long, dismal sigh slipped from her. “Poor Ivan was fortunate to escape with his life. And dear Synnovea—why, it’s inappropriate for me to say what that wretched man claimed from her after he seized her and rode off into the forest….”

Synnovea gaped at the woman, feeling thoroughly victimized by her suggestive remark. The coy smile that came upon Anna’s lips and the hard flint in the gray eyes openly conveyed the injury she had meant to reap with her insinuations. Her motives seemed simple enough to her young guest. Beyond a mere ruse to cause her undue shame, the woman obviously meant to frustrate her husband’s hopes of adding yet another virgin to his collection. Synnovea didn’t mind that at all, but she certainly resented her honor being besmirched.

Aleksei was clearly taken aback. “What’s this? Synnovea, dear child, were you offended by those ruffians?”

Synnovea tossed a covert glower toward Ivan who was no doubt to blame for spawning this latest infraction. “I fear the tale has been much enlivened by hearsay, my lord. There’s no need for alarm. I was saved from ravishment by the timely appearance of an officer of Tsar Mikhail’s Hussars. Were Colonel Rycroft here, I’m sure he’d attest to my claims, which he’ll likely have to do in a report to his superior.”

Aleksei relaxed enough to smile. Though a self-proclaimed gallant, he had always prided himself in the care he took to avoid those grim maladies associated with indiscriminately lewd activities. His own father had suffered many ills and woes stemming from the disease until finally, amid excruciating agony and frenzied hallucinations, the man had ended his own life. Even to this day, Aleksei was haunted by the memory of that wild-eyed, slavering being slicing his own throat. Nearly overwhelmed as a young man by the horror of that ghastly sight, he had vowed that he would never let himself fall prey to that kind of dark pestilence. It was exceedingly more gratifying to mount the tender, pristine thighs of a virgin and, for a time, dally with her until he grew bored enough to seek entertainment elsewhere.

“And this colonel?” Aleksei directed his attention to his beautiful guest. “He was perhaps the one who escorted you here?”

“Captain Nekrasov was appointed that particular duty by His Majesty. The one who actually came to my deliverance is an Englishman in service to the tsar. He was on practice maneuvers in the area when he and his men happened upon my halted carriage and put the thieves to rout.”

“How can a foreigner claim the rank of colonel in Russia?” Anna asked caustically.

Synnovea felt her neck prickle as she took umbrage at the princess’s obvious disdain. “I would assume that Colonel Rycroft had already acquired that rank before entering the tsar’s service.”

“But he’s an Englishman!” the woman exclaimed, unwilling to dismiss that fact. “What is my cousin thinking of to incorporate an Englishman in his troops? Or is this more of his father’s doings? Patriarch Filaret will have us all killed in our beds by bringing foreign mercenaries into the city!”

“My dear, how can you speak of the good patriarch like that?” Aleksei mocked with a slanted smile.

“Ivan can tell you! Filaret has assumed the powers of the tsar through his son. His ambitions have asserted themselves beyond the duties of patriarch. Indeed! He’d be sitting on the throne today in place of his son if not for the fact that Boris Godunov forced him to become a monk to save his own tsardom.”

Aleksei scowled darkly at the cleric, who conveniently addressed his attention to the food. “Such talk is dangerous, Anna, and you know as well as I do that His Majesty has no real interest in ruling Russia without his father’s counsel. His negotiations for peace with Poland not only gained an armistice but obtained the release of Filaret. True, the treaty cost us a number of Russian towns and cities, yet it has gained us a far more valuable asset. Patriarch Filaret Nikitich has the wisdom to make the right decision for our country. If he has brought foreigners here to secure our peace and train our troops, I can find no fault against the man for wanting to strengthen our capabilities and defense. They need to be!”

“What are you saying, Aleksei?” Anna asked, amazed that her husband could lightly accept such a notion. “Colonel Rycroft is an Englishman!”

Synnovea rallied to the colonel’s defense, not entirely sure why she should feel so offended in his behalf, except that she was half English herself and felt a deep loyalty to the memory of her mother, who had been far more gracious than Anna Taraslovna could ever hope to be. “That rogue Ladislaus made light of the abilities of the tsar’s men until Colonel Rycroft confronted his pack of wolves. Then the thief had to lament the loss of those brought down by the Englishman’s sword. I, for one, am most appreciative of the colonel and his skill as a soldier. I wouldn’t be here this very moment enjoying the safety of your house if not for him.”

Anna mentally sneered at her guest’s input. “I can understand why you’d be grateful for such a one. After all, your mother was English, but other
boyarinas
are more discriminating than to value the presence of a foreigner.” Her mouth curved in a derisive smile as she offered a conjecture. “No doubt you found the colonel attractive.”

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