Forever in Your Embrace (18 page)

A vexed sigh, definitely related to a snort, accompanied a glower of genuine distrust. “I know you only too well, Ali McCabe, and I’ve no doubt that you’ll be discovered as an accomplice to the colonel should he persist in this foolhardy endeavor. You’re not to be trusted around such a man!”

“Can I help it if I’ve a keen eye for pickin’ a prime man?”

Synnovea settled her hands on her waist and groaned in mute frustration. The occurrence was rare indeed when she could out-argue Ali McCabe. “I don’t suppose, after your delight over the colonel’s visit, that you remember what I sent you out for.”

Ali squawked at the idea that she was growing addlepated. “Ye know I do!” Her temper mellowed as her mood changed to one of compassion. “An’ a poor sight I saw, too! Elisaveta wasn’t far wrong. Her sister is in a bad way. I cooked an’ tended her an’ the little girl, Sophia. Then I gave them a few coins an’ promised some more ta a neighbor woman so she’d look after them till I come back. Wit’ a little care, they’ll be fine, but Danika will be needin’ ta find work ta support herself an’ her child once she’s up an’ about.”

“I doubt that Princess Anna will allow her to come to work here, not with a child hanging onto her skirts.”

“But surely, there be somethin’ we can do,” Ali fretted in concern.

At the moment, Synnovea could think of no better plan than sending the pair to her home in Nizhni Novgorod, but as difficult as the journey had been for them, a woman in a weakened state of health would be unable to endure it. A new idea promptly came to her, and immediately her hopes brightened. “Perhaps the Countess Natasha would be willing to hire her on.”

“An’ do ye think Princess Anna will be lettin’ ye visit Countess Natasha long enough ta ask her?” Ali queried, doubting the possibility. “Ye know she has no likin’ for the countess.”

“Anna will never restrict me from going to church,” Synnovea said resolutely. “I shall be able to speak with Natasha about the matter there.”

“An’ once the princess finds out ye’ve talked wit’ the countess, ’tis in me mind she won’t be lettin’ ye go back.”

“She can’t be as forbidding as all that,” Synnovea replied. Still, her words lacked conviction.

Ali responded with a genuine snort of derision. “Ye might as well be locked in a tsarina’s
terem
as much freedom as ye’ve got here. Ta be sure, the princess won’t be takin’ it kindly, ye seein’ the Countess Natasha behind her back.”

“Let’s not fret about that now,” Synnovea urged, taking Ali’s arm. “Elisaveta is waiting to hear about her sister, and I must get dressed for dinner before Princess Anna comes out in search of us!”

A short time later, Synnovea joined Ivan and Princess Anna in the great hall. Promptly thereafter the woman presented her with a bill, but it was not until Synnovea had returned to her chambers that she noticed Anna’s accounting for the reward did not match the total coins that Tyrone had given her in the pouch. Either he had taken some out or the princess had greatly enlarged upon the amount she had supposedly given him. Yet there had been no need for the colonel to give her the purse. He could’ve kept the whole of it for himself, and she would never have known the difference. His fervent declaration that he had used the reward merely for the purpose of visiting her made Synnovea wonder about the greed of the princess. Anna had more than enough wealth of her own; why should she lie to gain more?

In the morning Synnovea returned to the dining hall to find Ivan already filling his plate. He seemed rather smug about his performance as disciplinarian and closely watched for further infractions upon which he could pounce. Synnovea was almost relieved when the front door was thrown open and Aleksei came striding into the room, looking as formidable as the burly Petrov. He was unshaven, his red eyes bespoke of many hours quenched with copious libations and riotous living. He was also as irascible as his appearance indicated.

“You there!” he bellowed at Ivan, giving the smaller man a violent start. The plate slipped from the cleric’s bony hands and crashed to the floor, where it flung food helter-skelter as it gyrated in undulating circles. Aleksei seemed almost mesmerized by the whirling dish until it finally ceased its motion. Then he raised glowering eyes and fixed them on Ivan. “You seem brave enough when my wife is present,” he taunted with a contemptuous sneer. “Why do you quake with fear now?”

Ivan swallowed convulsively and tried to ignore the vindictive prodding of the other man. Little evidence remained of the brashness he had displayed in the presence of his patroness. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked with trepidation, “Princess Anna hasn’t awakened yet, Your Highness. Do you wish me to fetch her for you?”

“
When I want my wife, I’ll fetch her myself!
” the prince bellowed, setting the other man back upon his heels. It was only when he glanced toward the disquieted Synnovea that Aleksei made an attempt to control his temper. Though his nostrils still flared with rage, he released his breath in low, irritated snorts until he was able to speak to Ivan in a fairly reasonable tone. “I’ve just been informed by a messenger that Anna’s father has fallen ill in the monastery. Her mother would like her to come as soon as possible. It’s in my mind that the princess will deem you a worthy escort whenever she decides to go. She usually takes her time making up her mind about when to leave, but at least you’ve been warned of the possibility.”

Ivan seemed stunned by the prospect of yet another long, arduous journey ahead of him, especially when they could be waylaid again by renegades. “But I just returned—”

“You’ll have more than enough time to ready yourself,” Aleksei cut in with weary indifference. “She isn’t inclined to rush off at
anyone’s
behest.” Having thoroughly detached himself from any smallest concern for Ivan’s discomforts, he raised his head in silent eloquence and stared at some distant point until the cleric quietly departed the room.

Aleksei took up a plate and began selecting tidbits from the platters that Elisaveta had laid out upon the sideboard. He cast a glance askance to note the countess’s reaction and caught the worried frown that drew her brows together. “Do I detect a hint of sadness in your sweet visage, my dear Synnovea?” He smiled slyly, knowing full well what troubled her. “Or perhaps a concern that after my wife leaves the two of us will be ensconced entirely alone here in the house with only the servants in attendance.”

Synnovea answered him unflinchingly. “I’m sure when the time comes, Anna will be willing to give me permission to stay with Natasha during her absence. ’Twould be unseemly for you and me to remain in this house together without a proper chaperon. You know how tongues are wont to wag, and I wouldn’t want to see your sterling character besmirched by my presence here.”

Aleksei threw his head back and laughed in uproarious amusement at the absurdity of her suggestion. “You’re a woman of clever wit, Synnovea. I find myself much refreshed by your presence.” His brown eyes gleamed warmly as he stroked a forefinger beneath his mustache, sweeping up the ends. “I shall enjoy getting to know you better.”

“When we’re properly attended by others, of course,” Synnovea agreed with a crisply challenging smile.

Settling briefly into a pert curtsy, she left him to dine alone and made her way to her own chambers. She was not at all anxious to be within close proximity to the man when the princess gave vent to her tirade. Perhaps she was merely speculating on Anna’s displeasure, but she had sensed that the woman was anxious to take him to task for his recent absence.

S
ynnovea awoke with a start, her heart thumping nigh out of her chest. Anxiously she searched the shadows of her bedchamber, hoping fervently that she had been dreaming, that she wasn’t really locked in a dungeon somewhere and that the strange rattling sounds she had heard hadn’t been the tip of Aleksei’s sword tapping tauntingly against the iron bars of her cell. Frightening images of the prince standing before the locked door of her dungeon cubicle still hovered before her like some dreadful ghost left over from her dreams. His swarthy face gleamed back at her from the gloom as his voice, blandly laying out the conditions for her release, came winging back to her. Haughtily he had assured her that unless she yielded him everything he desired from her, she’d never leave her dark, dank prison until they carried out her bones.

The faint, clattering noise came again, wrenching a frightened gasp from Synnovea as she came upright in bed. Her heart hammered in her throat, sounding so loud in her ears that it was useless for her to listen for some evidence of her tormentor’s presence. Anxiously she probed the deeply shadowed gloom in a desperate search for the one who lurked just beyond her reach and sight. By slow degrees, the moonlit chambers began to take on a comforting familiarity, and with overwhelming relief, Synnovea realized she was ensconced in her bed at the Taraslovs’ manse.

The lightest rattle against a glass pane drew another start from her, and her eyes flew to the front window from whence the sound had come. Like the other three windows in the room, it stood wide to catch whatever evening breezes were stirring. Silvery shafts of moonlight illumined the silken draperies fluttering inward on gentle currents, but she saw nothing that resembled human form.

Leaving her bed on trembling limbs, she crept stealthily across the bedchamber and pushed aside an opaque panel to peer out, fully expecting to find Aleksei standing beneath the tree in front of the window. The night sky twinkled with myriad stars, while a bright moon cast its radiance through the leaves of the tree, allowing her to see the one who waited beneath it. A strange blend of relief and surprise flooded through her when she saw that it wasn’t Aleksei at all, but Tyrone Rycroft. Feeling no hesitancy now about brushing aside the draperies, she leaned out to confront him, aghast at his boldness in seeking her out in such a manner.

“What are you doing here?” she queried in a carefully subdued whisper. She conveyed a fair measure of irritation at his foolishness as she demanded, “Don’t you realize you could be shot for coming here this time of night?”

Tyrone swept off his hat in a flamboyant manner and grinned up at her as his eyes flicked over her, savoring the sights that were there for the taking. Bathed by a silvery aura, she was the very replica of the dream from which he had awakened in a lusting fever. The soft, gossamer gown molded the wanton fullness of her breasts divinely, seeming eager to reveal what they barely concealed. Such a vision of loveliness made his dreams appear almost lackluster. “My lady,” he called in a hushed tone. “How wondrously fair you look.”

Suddenly abashed by her lack of modesty, Synnovea crossed an arm in front of her, allowing the long, billowing sleeve to mask her scantily garbed bosom. “Prince Aleksei’s chambers are on the opposite side of the house,” she hissed, frustrated by the Englishman’s lack of discretion. “If he wakes and sees you down there, he’ll shoot you for an intruder without even asking why you’re here.”

“Thinking of you thwarted my sleep,” Tyrone declared, dismissing her warnings. “I had to come and assure myself once again that you’re indeed real and not a figment of my imagination.”

“If you won’t take heed of the danger you’re in, then I urge you, Colonel Rycroft, to consider what my punishment may be if you’re caught here! Princess Anna will likely think I encouraged you and will order my windows nailed shut. These rooms will become my prison, but she won’t stop there. She’ll see you arrested, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in a dungeon, never seeing the light of day again.”

Ignoring her admonition, Tyrone caught hold of a stout vine twining over the facade of the house and climbed it as easily as he would a ladder. Upon reaching the window, he grasped the frame above his head and swung inward feet-first. Synnovea’s astonished gasp evoked a wayward grin from him as he lowered his booted feet to the floor and sat back upon the sill.

Though she had grave doubts that any garment would protect her against the colonel’s aggression, Synnovea quickly sought the covering of a dressing gown and then, with fingers trembling uncontrollably, managed to light a candle. The tiny flame danced beneath her fluttering breath, and she lifted the taper high above her head as she warily approached her visitor. His translucent eyes reflected the flickering light, and the hungry yearning visible in those luminous depths was so intense it seemed almost tangible.

Tyrone released his constricted breath in halting degrees. Even the simple act of taking air into his lungs became difficult when he was near Synnovea. Indeed, he felt much as he had that night in the bathhouse when he had watched her padding barefoot and stark naked alongside the pool. “No need to fear, my lady,” he assured her in a husky whisper. “I mean you no harm.”

“I believe you said that in the bathhouse right after I caught you spying on me like some unprincipled libertine,” Synnovea whispered chidingly. She couldn’t meet those flaming orbs without sensing the depth of his hunger. Never before had she been looked at with such tangible longing.

“Did I not make my presence known to you tonight?” Tyrone asked her softly, avoiding the subject of his past guilt. “Had you been of such a mind, you could have closed the window and kept me out.”

“I was too astonished by your nerve!” Synnovea protested with a blush. Even so, she suffered no uncertainty that she would’ve barred Aleksei’s entrance by whatever means proved necessary. Halting the Englishman, however, had never even entered into her consideration. Was she fooling herself into believing that she was safe in his presence merely because he had let her leave the bathhouse unscathed? Or was she so bedazzled by the strange, stirring excitement that started pulsing within her at every conjured image of his naked beauty that she could allow herself to be reduced to the level of some mindless twit who irrationally sought the company of the one who awakened those delectable feelings?