Gypsy Jewel (32 page)

Damien knew he could not merely stride up to the front door and demand his wife. Soon enough Dmitri would awaken and alert those in town that the count was in danger. With a measuring glance at the height of the Gold Room, Damien considered trying to scale the manor, but there was no balcony to receive him and it was a gamble that April was there.

With a frustrated noise, he circled Samarin House, keeping in the shadows so as to avoid detection. As luck would have it, he was directly before one of the rear exits when the door suddenly flew open and someone stumbled out, gasping white clouds of breath as she looked frantically about.

Damien recognized the maid Zofia. The woman had not seen him but furtively struck out across the snow. She turned toward the stables, but the snow was ankle-deep and in her heavy skirts she could not move swiftly.

Sensing trouble, Damien moved to follow her. He caught up with Zofia and grabbed her arm from behind, and the maid loosed a feral snarl as she whipped around.

Recognizing Damien, her glittering dark eyes went wide. Then, before she could scream and alert any others, he clapped one hand over her mouth and with his other twisted her arm high up behind her back.

“A little late to be out and about on such a cold night,
nyet
?” he hissed in her ear. “Somehow I get the feeling you aren’t out for a casual stroll.”

She struggled soundlessly for a moment, and he continued in a low voice, “As you may guess, I’m looking for my wife. And by the looks of you, there’s trouble inside that house. Am I right?”

When she stubbornly refused to reply, Damien shook her a little and hissed, “Don’t toy with me, woman. I’ve already had enough of your insolence while staying here, and if you were on my staff, I’d have dismissed you long ago. Now I’m going to take my hand away, and you’re going to tell me everything. But I warn you, I’ll have no second thoughts about striking a woman, especially where April’s life is concerned. So make it quick and make it good.”

Damien unmuffled her mouth then and saw that Zofia had tried to bite him. Fortunately, the thickness of the hide in his gloves meant that he had not felt it, but there were teeth marks in the leather and he was not amused.

“Well?” he demanded. “What are you doing sneaking out here like this? Where is April?”

Zofia gave him a triumphant look. Though he still held her arm cruelly twisted back, and she must have been in pain, she refused to speak.

“Very well,” Damien ground out, “then I’ll just have to take you in with me and together we’ll pay our respects to the count.”

“
Nyet
!” Zofia suddenly reacted, her voice a hoarse and desperate cry, “Don’t take me back in there.”

“Why not?” Damien demanded.

“Because he will kill me.”

“What have you done to deserve that? It must be pretty good. Or did your disrespect finally annoy him as much as it does me?”

Zofia would not answer, and he gave her a hard shake. “That does it, “he said coldly. “I’ve no time for these games tonight. You can dance around in circles all you please, but in the end you’ll answer me.”

Damien dragged her back to Samarin House, to the door through which she had crept. It was no easy task. Zofia fought him, silently but determinedly, and she was thin but strong, of peasant stock. Luckily she did not seem to want attention drawn to them either, and in the end Damien won, forcing her through the door which was still unlocked.

“Now,” he ordered her quietly when they were inside, “take me to April.”

Unwillingly Zofia nodded and moved ahead of Damien in the darkness, up a series of wooden, back stairs that appeared to be for servants’ use only. Before they went far, he clamped his hand around her wrist and warned, “If you try to trick me, I’ll not go lightly on you. Remember that.”

Soon they were on an upper landing, about the same height as he judged the fourth floor to be. Relaxing his grip long enough to let Zofia crack a door into a dark hall, Damien then reasserted his control over the woman and escorted her directly to the Gold Room.

Once there, he tried the knob and found it locked. It would not be locked without a reason. Damien motioned for Zofia to open the door and she grudgingly reached for the ring of house keys tied to her waist.

The door clicked open. Pushing the maid ahead of him as a shield of sorts, Damien entered the bedchamber. It was only a fraction of a second before a white object came whizzing toward them, smacking Zofia soundly in the forehead and causing the maid to buckle to her knees. Throwing himself inside against the wall, Damien looked to the source.

“Damien!”

With a soft cry of disbelief, April gathered up her skirts and ran toward him, halting only when she remembered that she was still angry with him. But her green eyes were alight with hope and he longed to crush her in his arms in that moment.

She was more beautiful than ever, though Damien frowned to see the state of her gown and her hair. He closed the door and stepped over the faintly groaning Zofia on the floor, noting the deadly accuracy with which the ivory hairbrush had been hurled.

“What’s happening?” Damien asked, and a second later against all her intents, April was in his arms, shaking like a terrified child.

“The count — Zofia — Pavel — they’re all mad,” April gasped into his fur coat. “Ivanov locked me in here after he ranted and raved at me like I was someone else. He kept calling me Katya —”

As the story tumbled out, wild and almost unbelievable except for Tatiana’s confirming tales, Damien glanced around the Gold Room. He saw by the black marks on the beautiful velvet gown that April had put her time to good use and had not only lit a fire in the grate herself, to keep warm and provide light, but had also begun assembling a variety of furniture and boxes with which she had probably intended to block the entrance to the room.

He was thankful that he had gotten there in time, not only to rescue her but to prevent Ivanov from frightening her any further. Smoothing back her hair, he murmured, “You’re safe now. I won’t let him or any of the others hurt you.”

Then, with a glance to assure Zofia was still stunned, he asked his wife, “I found her outside. Do you know why she was trying to escape the house?”

April pulled back and nodded. “She stole my jewel from me. I-I never told you, but when Tzigane found me as a baby, there was a little pouch around my neck that held a valuable gem. A diamond. But there was no clue as to where it came from …” Trailing off, afraid that Damien would resent her for not being honest before, April blurted, “I didn’t want you to think I had stolen it myself. But I was going to tell you someday …”

“Never mind,” Damien said, still feeling guilty enough about his own deception. “I understand why Zofia would want to have such a jewel. She probably intended to sell it and live comfortably for the rest of her life.”

“But that’s not all,” April cried. “She told me she had stolen it from my mother, when she also took me. She said that my real mother — whom I think is named Katya — was dying. Zofia confessed she didn’t want to kill a newborn baby too. But isn’t that horrible? Why would she have any reason to kill my mother in the first place?”

“Maybe she didn’t.” Damien was grim. “Have you ever considered that perhaps someone else arranged for it, and Zofia was only an accomplice?”

April shuddered. “There’s only one person who could have wanted my mother dead. Ivanov. The way he carried on tonight, raging about her and another man, I expected him to kill me, too.”

Damien looked down into his wife’s beautiful green eyes, suddenly understanding why she had always had such noble bearing to him and others. “April,” he said softly, hesitantly, “I think you may be the daughter of
boyar
parents. Tatiana told me the story of this Ekaterina — Katya — leaving Ivanov to marry a prince in the south. She also said they had both been killed by brigands on a journey somewhere later. Nobody was accused of the crime, but Tatiana believes that Ivanov had a hand in it.”

At the mention of the arrogant Princess Menshikov, April’s eyes darkened. Instead of seizing eagerly on what he had just told her, she demanded, “Why did you leave with Tatiana tonight?”

Damien made an exasperated noise. “April, don’t you understand? You are probably a princess yourself by birth. It makes sense now. Zofia apparently coveted Ekaterina’s prized jewel, which by the sound of it was probably a family heirloom. She saw her chance to get rich and took it, after the prince and his wife were murdered. As for you —” and he ran his hand down the satiny fall of her golden hair with great tenderness, “— it seems she was softhearted enough to spare an innocent babe, thank God.”

Suddenly Zofia stirred behind them, and the couple turned to watch her come round.

“Perhaps the story would come better from someone who knows the whole truth,” Damien suggested, as Zofia opened her eyes and gingerly touched the great bruise darkening on her forehead. “Why don’t you tell us now, Zofia, about the jewel and who was murdered almost eighteen years ago in the wilds of Georgia?”

Having heard snatches of their conversation, the maid knew it was fruitless to feign ignorance. With dark eyes smoldering, she hissed, “Yes. I took the jewel from her neck as she died. The beautiful Ekaterina, and her handsome prince.” Her lip curled with loathing at the memory. “They were so happy, two fools in love. But for that she destroyed Vasili. I knew the moment I laid eyes on that woman she would only hurt him.”

“But Zofia,” April put in curiously, “why would you care whether the count was hurt or not?”

“Because,” she snapped, “family looks out for itself.”

The young woman gasped. Damien was not so surprised. He had noted before the slight resemblance between the maid and her master, and it explained why Ivanov had always failed to chastise her properly in her servant role.

“You are brother and sister?” April guessed.

Zofia grunted a yes. “My half on the wrong side of the blanket. We had different mothers. So he is a count, and I am nothing.”

Feeling sorry for the woman now, April prompted gently, “But you don’t seem to resent him. After all, you stay and work here of free will, don’t you?”

With a sigh, pressing her hand to her aching temple, Zofia said, “He was always kind to me growing up. I am five years younger and he would not let anyone be cruel to me. I think he knew all along who I was, too, and how we were related. It has never been spoken between us, but I am sure Vasili knows. Over time I came to see what a good man he is. That is why, when he fell in love with Katya, I tried to warn him. She did not understand the man he is, or what he needs.”

Damien glanced at his wife. She was entranced, kneeling by the maid’s side. Her nods and pats on the woman’s shoulder kept Zofia going.

“So,” Zofia continued in a shuddering breath, “when in spite of all his begging and pleading, Katya left him for Prince Andrei, I went to Vasili and told him he was better off. But he would not be consoled. He raged and wept for days, weeks, thinking of her wed to the prince. And after a year passed I thought he must be over it, but then I overheard him and Pavel discussing their plan.”

Damien supplied grimly, “To waylay the couple somewhere and murder them?”

Zofia nodded. “I was horrified, at first. Then I remembered how ungrateful Katya had been when she was here, how vain and selfish. She never thought of Vasili. She only wanted to escape him. It was for her own good that he kept her in the Gold Room, until the prince found out and came with his soldiers to rescue her.” She clenched her fists in righteous indignation for her half-brother. “The count was the better man. He would have given her everything. As it was, all she got from young Andrei was a ticket to her grave.”

Zofia went on to explain how she had posed as a servant in the Petrovna’s retinue in order to help the count exact his bloody vengeance. “It was just before the trip south that their first child, Natasha, was born,” she said, with a meaningful glance at April. “I rode behind the others in the caravan, and when I knew the attack was coming in the next pass, I left on an excuse to relieve myself in the woods.

“Then I waited while the travelers were attacked and killed. After the robbers left, I hurried to the overturned coach. I heard nothing but the squalling of a babe.” She did not seem to notice how white April had become.

“I tugged open the door and climbed inside. Anything of value was gone. It was necessary to make it seem the work of thieves.” Zofia swallowed hard and went on. “The prince was dead and Katya appeared to be as well. They were both covered in blood. But she still clutched the screaming baby. I looked for the diamond, but I knew Katya did not keep it with her other jewelry, which was already gone anyway. Then I saw the baby was clutching something sparkling in its little hand. Before she died, Katya had put it around her daughter’s neck.

“I heard someone coming back to the scene. So I took the baby and ran. I was afraid that whoever was coming might find me by following the child’s cries, so I left the baby in the snow and intended to come back and get the jewel when God had done his work. But when I went back later, the baby and the diamond were both gone.”

“Where is the diamond now, Zofia?” April asked.

“In a safe place. And I intend to keep it.”

April exchanged a frustrated glance with Damien, and then she rose and brushed off her skirts.

“Zofia, if you cannot give me back my jewel, then help us get out of here alive instead. You know Count Ivanov better than any. And you know he is capable of murder. I don’t know when he will be coming back upstairs to check on me. We need to be gone by then.”

“It could be days or weeks,” Zofia told them. “He left Katya up here for an entire month once, just sending up meals and gowns to keep her amused. She put them away and refused to wear them. She was as ungrateful as ever. If Vasili had only listened to me there would not have been such trouble.”

“You would not have left Samarin House in such a hurry if you did not have the jewel on your person,” Damien said.

Zofia stopped sniffling and stiffened, confirming his words. April knew he was prepared to take a direct approach and perhaps search the woman, but she stilled him with a quick hand on his arm.