Forever in Your Embrace (70 page)

A fortnight came and went, and still they saw no glimpse of their prey. Tyrone grew restive. He could only wonder where Ladislaus had taken himself and others of his band and what mischief they were presently brewing, whether they were busy attacking unsuspecting travelers again or perhaps raiding a village in some area far afield of their camp. Unable to endure the wait without gaining some knowledge of what was happening beyond their hilltop perch, Tyrone sent Grigori and Avar out to search for some trace of the brigands. As he awaited their return, he chafed in unbridled restlessness. He would’ve preferred to ride out and scour the countryside himself, but he knew the folly of being recognized by Ladislaus. Hence Tyrone was forced to abide where he was, though he longed desperately to have this raid behind him so he could return with fervent haste to the one he loved.

20

The lunar sphere cast a silvery essence down upon Moscow as it climbed in a lofty arch across the night sky. Coldly aloof and forbidding in its nocturnal setting, it lent no warmth or cheer to Synnovea’s heart as she stared dejectedly into the blustery darkness beyond her bedchamber windows. If someone had ventured to ask, she’d have been wont to declare that her husband had already been gone for a year or more. Since his departure, it seemed as if her life had paused in solitary flight, much like the moon, which now lent an illusion of being momentarily frozen in its heavenly orbit. It was a cold hard fact that through the remnant of this eventide, she could look forward to nothing more exciting than huddling alone beneath the quilt in an effort to warm herself. If she were fortunate, treasured memories would wash over her like softly cresting waves, bringing mental images vividly to life. At times she could almost sense Tyrone’s presence, his face looming before her, lending her solace from her abject loneliness and reawakening her to sweet remembrances of when they had made love, of his huskily whispered words brushing her ear and his long, hard body moving upon her own. Such memories provoked longings that were difficult to subdue, and she’d then lie awake, tortured even more by their separation.

Hourly she fretted for her husband’s safety, loathing the wars and conflicts that might snatch his life. Though she sought to keep her fingers and mind actively occupied, she found no abatement for her deepening anxieties. The threat of Ladislaus was too real, too well marked in her memory to allow her to dismiss her apprehensions with menial tasks.

Heaving a disconcerted sigh, Synnovea turned from the windows with no heart to face the solitude of her lonely bed. Aimlessly she meandered about the bedchamber, taking no note of its elegant appointments as she thought back on the weeks which had recently plodded past. She now had a clearer sense of how one could suffer a feeling of unbearable isolation even in the midst of caring friends. Though Ali had liberally practiced her Irish wit in hopes of entertaining her, Synnovea could hardly manage a vague smile for her tiny maid. Even Natasha and Zelda’s cheery companionship had failed to ease her gloom.

Social outings had not helped in the least. If anything, they had set her more on edge, especially during those two separate occasions when Prince Aleksei and Major Nekrasov had dared to approach her in public. Though the presence of a pair of hefty guards riding atop her coach or following closely behind while she roamed the marketplaces of Kitaigorod had dissuaded her persistent suitors from extending their visits to only a few moments, they had voiced their causes with equal fervor. Concerned that his earlier visit might have caused her dismay, Nikolai had displayed his merit as an honorable gentleman by offering a quietly spoken apology. Aleksei, however, had proven himself as adamant to have her as he had been in the past. If anything, his quest for fleshly appeasement and simple revenge had grown even stronger since she had become the wife of a man whom he now considered an adversary, as if the idea of stealing her away, whether by captivation or forcible capture, had become something of a challenge to him. Though the pair of guards, whom Tyrone had hired to protect her, both hindered and annoyed the prince, Synnovea wasn’t entirely certain that they’d be successful in keeping Aleksei from his purpose.

“ ’Tis obvious your husband is afraid of being cuckolded during his absence.” Aleksei had smirked in haughty arrogance after falling in beside her during a tour through the marketplace. He cast a glance at the two brawny giants following closely upon her heels. “A chastity belt might have been less costly than those clumsy oafs he has employed.”

Synnovea had managed a less-than-tolerant smile as she replied with derision, “Why, Aleksei, can it be that you’re outraged because my husband has actually dared to thwart your lecherous little ploys by engaging men whose loyalty to him is unswerving? Such fealty to an Englishman must seem strange to you, what with them being Russians. Why, I’d even venture to guess that their allegiance to him is so firmly rooted that you’ll find your princely status of no consequence to them, surprising as it may seem. I don’t imagine that you’ve ever experienced such loyalty yourself.”

Aleksei’s dark eyes had skimmed her with a strange mixture of angry insolence and hungry fervor. “My dearest Synnovea, you remind me of a well-preened swan gliding over the warm waters of a lake, completely oblivious to the dangers of the hungry wolf lurking in the tall reeds near shore.”

Synnovea had responded by lifting a lovely brow in chiding condescension. “Be careful, Aleksei. You could get snared wallowing in the treacherous bogs of conceit ere you learn your lesson. His Majesty hasn’t yet forgotten your last miserable undertaking to steal me from the colonel. A second attempt just might cost you your head.”

Her reminder hadn’t been kindly accepted by the prince, whose eyes had chilled to a piercing darkness that promised dire consequences. “You should’ve learned by now just how adamant I can be when I set my mind to a matter, Synnovea. I do so hate to repeat a lesson I’ve already taught, but it’s evident you aren’t willing to take me at my word.”

With a last smug smirk, Aleksei had stalked away to his waiting coach without a backward glance. Now, nearly a week later, Synnovea had cause to hope that he had given up the idea of seizing her for his own lecherous purposes, for she hadn’t seen him at all, not even with Anna or others with whom he consorted. She could only pray that he had left Moscow in search of some new conquest.

Synnovea doffed her robe and slipped between the cool sheets, recalling the many times that Tyrone had been there, and his arms had reached out to draw her close against his hard body. Now an empty void greeted her, and darkness was the only thing that enveloped her after the tapers were snuffed out. Solemnly she stared across the room at the moon hovering in a starlit sky beyond the windows, and she wondered how she’d ever be able to get through untold weeks, perhaps even months of lonely anguish.

Fighting the chill of the lonely bed, Synnovea rubbed her hands briskly over the sleeves of her nightgown, but her arms remained cold beneath them. Nothing sufficed in comparison to her husband’s embrace, and her heart pined to have him with her once again. She drew his pillow to her breast and hugged it fiercely, just as she yearned to do with him.

Much later, when Tyrone meandered through her drifting dreams, it seemed as if she floated on a gently wafting breeze, and for a while she was content…at least until she was rudely snatched to awareness by a broad hand clapped tightly across her mouth. It masked nearly half her face, effectively squelching a scream that was born of terror. Against her struggling efforts, a gag was stuffed into her mouth and secured by a narrow strip of cloth wound tightly between her teeth. Her captor leaned over her as he knotted the rag behind her head, and Synnovea’s heart nearly leapt from her breast as she recognized the pale, scruffy thatch that covered the man’s head.

Ladislaus!

Her mind screamed the name out in dread as she struggled vainly against the overpowering strength of his huge hands. She now knew this would be no simple robbery which would end in a swift departure of the culprit. As his casual disregard of her emerald brooch had once attested, Ladislaus wanted her—and everything a woman could yield to a man!

The renegade prince flipped her over onto her stomach and, seizing her wrists, lashed them securely behind her back. He wrapped the bedclothes around her so tightly that her breathing became seriously restricted. In burgeoning panic Synnovea thrashed her head back and forth, desperately seeking some opening from whence she could draw breath. Finally Ladislaus recognized her dilemma, rolled her over, and tucked the quilt beneath her chin.

“Is that better?” he asked, his voice liberally imbued with humor. In the meager light, the pale orbs sparkled with merriment as he leaned close. “I’d be dreadfully put out with myself if you were to pass away from lack of air ere I’ve made love to you, my beauty.”

A thousand insulting epithets came to mind as Synnovea writhed in protest and glared up at him, but Ladislaus only chuckled and swept her up from the mattress. He tossed her casually over a shoulder and made his way around the end of the bed. Upon passing the open door of her dressing room, he paused to reflect upon the insufficiency of the nightgown she wore beneath the quilt. It would hardly keep his men from ogling her, nor would it keep her from freezing during the long ride to his den.

“I suppose you’d prefer to garb yourself rather than wander naked around my house. Though I’d appreciate such a sight, I rather doubt Alyona would.”

Entering the narrow room, Ladislaus rummaged through her armoires and chests, stuffed an assortment of womanly accouterments into a large satchel, tossed a heavy winter cloak over his arm, and then crossed to the anteroom. In the hall outside her chambers, he paused to listen until reassured that all was quiet.

In spite of the awkward bundle and her added weight, Ladislaus flitted easily through the shadowed corridor and then hastily descended the stairs. He left the house by way of the garden door and raced around to the front. Awaiting him in the street beyond the ornate gate were a handful of mounted men, at the fore of which sat Petrov astride a tall, muscular steed.

Synnovea raised her head, frantically searching the garden for her guards, and mentally groaned when she saw them struggling against the sturdy cords that bound them to the base of a tree. Their protesting grunts were muted by constricting gags, and though they writhed furiously against their bonds, they were no more able to free themselves than they were to prevent Ladislaus from whisking her through the gate to the street beyond.

“ ’Twill be light soon,” the renegade prince observed as he lifted his captive into the waiting arms of Petrov, who laid her across the saddle in front of him. “Prince Aleksei will be expecting us any moment now. Once he realizes I’ve played him false, he’ll alert soldiers in an attempt to halt our flight. We’ll have to make haste to leave the city ere the sun comes up.”

Synnovea silently cursed Aleksei for the snake he was. Now, t
hank
s to him, she had to contend with another who was just as dangerous.

A deep chortle shook Petrov’s massive shoulders. “Prince warn you to bring her straight to him with no tricks, but what you do, my friend, you tweak his nose. You take his gold an’ girl, too. Prince not be satisfied till your head be lifted on a pike.”

A wide grin attested to Ladislaus’s jovial indifference. “That cowardly toad never paid us for accomplishing his last orders, and though he promised to yield us twice that amount when we brought him the girl, he shouldn’t have expected us to believe him. ’Twas his folly to seek us out a second time.”

“The Englishman be very angry, too, I think, when he learn you take his wife. Never mind what he say before his whipping. Our spies say colonel now dotes upon the girl. He sure to come after you, an’ we know he more dangerous than any ten men the prince can send. Maybe colonel catch you this time—maybe even kill you. You bed the wench, you can expect him to do just that.”

Synnovea nodded vigorously, having listened in rapt attention to their exchange. When the two men paid her no heed, she squirmed, trying again, but Petrov only shifted her to free the hand that held the reins.

Ladislaus chortled in amusement at his friend’s warnings. “Colonel Rycroft will have to find us first, my friend, and that leaves him at a great disadvantage.” Catching the dark mane of the stallion that Tyrone had once owned, he leapt astride the animal and, leaning down, patted the steed’s neck as he grinned up at the giant. “You’ll see, Petrov. I will ride his wench just as I ride his stallion now. He cannot stop me.”