Immanuel's Veins (10 page)

“We don't know for sure that she's gone!”

“I'll find out. The stables, the tracks—I'll know. And I'll take care of this.” He brushed past her, now intent on his course. “We'll tell Toma in the morning.”

“But—”

“If I'm not back by then, tell him to come for us.”

And then he was off, leaving Lucine standing in Natasha's bedroom with a parted mouth and a hammering heart.

She paced and eventually returned to her room, and then, hearing nothing but the wind and her own turning under the sheets, managed to find some sleep.

Lucine woke with the sun in her eyes, late again, for the second day in a row. She pushed herself up and was halfway out of bed before she remembered the night's fear.

“Natasha!” She tore from her room, nightgown flying behind her.

Natasha's room was empty. The bed was as she remembered it, unmade and sheet on the floor. Her sister hadn't returned!

“Natasha!” She flew out into the living room and pulled up sharply.

They were all there, Natasha, Alek, Mother, and Toma. Lucine rushed to Natasha, who sat smiling with pale lips, hair a nest for spiders, and eyes dark for lack of sleep.

“Thank God you've returned!” She hugged her sister. “What happened?”

Natasha offered a short chuckle and shrugged.

Lucine turned to Alek. “Well?”

“She went. All the way up there, if you can believe it.”

“And?” Mother asked.

“As I told you,” Alek said. “Nothing. It's a large place and I was greeted at the door. They showed her to me and then we left.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Nothing else?” Toma asked. “She came willingly?”

“I'm here, aren't I?” she said.

“And why did you go, Natasha? When I had prohibited it?”

“I wasn't aware that you governed my life.” All this while she maintained a contented smile. But she looked as though she hadn't slept a wink.

“I don't. But I thought we'd agreed.”

“Yes. We did. But I changed my mind. Isn't that a woman's choice here? Mother?”

Her mother sighed. “Only if you tell me what kind of delicious experience you had. And it was foolish to go alone. Anything could have happened.”

“Please, I can ride as well as most men. And to be honest, I don't really know what happened. I was only there an hour before I was
rescued
.” Her voiced dripped with sarcasm.

“You saw no danger, Alek?” Toma pressed.

He thought a moment. “Not that I saw, no.”

Natasha stood slowly. “Now if you don't mind, I'm tired. Could you help me, Lucine?”

“Of course.”

They left under the others' watchful eyes. The moment Natasha shut her bedroom door, she spun around. “Oh, Lucine! It was wonderful, so wonderful!” She spread her arms wide and whirled, the picture of bliss.

“What on earth do you mean?”

Natasha grabbed her hand and dragged her to the bed, eyes fiery now. Gone were the shadows of exhaustion, the pallor of death. She was beaming and flushed.

“I mean the Castle Castile. The Russians.”

Lucine blinked at this. “I thought . . .”

“Because . . .” She eyed the door. “Of course you
thought
, but it's not true. It was the most intoxicating time of my life.”

“How is that possible? You were hardly there.”

Natasha jumped up and walked around the bed to the open balcony doors and let the breeze flow over her face.

“But I could swear I was there for an eternity, Sister.” She twisted back. “And let me tell you, that one, Simion . . . He's a stallion.”

“You didn't!”

“I have no idea. No, no, I must not have. But I would, Lucine.”

“What about Alek?”

“What about him? He's my lover already. I can have only one?”

Lucine stood, not sure what she should do. “This is . . . Natasha, this isn't right!”

“What isn't right? Hmm, Sister? Why don't you tell me?”

“It's dangerous.”

“How so?”

And here Lucine fell flat, because it wasn't really dangerous, not by Cantemir standards anyway. She sat down and let out a long breath.

“Tell me about it.”

Natasha did, in halting detail: the grand ballroom, the men and women in black, the wine, the music. But all of it came back to Simion, this man who'd intoxicated her.

All of this was strangely troubling to Lucine. Something didn't sit right, and anything with this kind of alluring power could not be good. Could it?

“Don't tell me he bit your lip,” Lucine said.

Natasha laughed. “I don't know, but I will tell you I would let him.”

Lucine saw it then, the mark on the inside of her sister's lip when she pulled it out in jest. Lucine grabbed the lip and pulled it lower.

“What are you doing?”

“You've been bitten!”

Natasha jerked away and slapped her sister's hand. “Stop yanking my lip. It's only a sore, silly.”

But it looked like a gash to Lucine. And she wondered if it was connected to the bloody sheets.

“Promise me one thing, Natasha.”

“And then I have to sleep.”

“Promise me you won't return by yourself.”

Natasha looked into Lucine's eyes thoughtfully. “But of course, Lucine. I've had my fun. I can't do this all alone.”

“That's not what I meant. I'm talking about your safety.”

Natasha sighed and dropped onto her bed. “Yes, dear Sister. Yes. Now be a good girl and pull my boots off, will you?”

That was the beginning.

EIGHT

W
here is she?” I demanded. But I knew. The flame on the candle in my hand bent with the wind as I moved across Natasha Cantemir's bedroom.

It was midnight.

Kesia and Lucine stood behind me near the door, silent. “Do you have
no
control of your daughter, madam?”

“She's not a child,” Kesia said.

“But does she live under no rule? What is it with this family that throws order into the corner?”

Nothing from them.

“If you did not make it clear, then I did,” I said, turning back to face her. “Now we have a pattern, and that is the beginning of anarchy.”

“What on earth do you mean, setting the order of my house?”

I am here to order you, madam
, I wanted to say.
And now you're fighting me and that will make you my enemy!
But I couldn't say that, of course.

I would bow to her authority. The last thing I could afford here was an enemy. Particularly not Lucine's mother.

“Forgive me, then. But I think we should take this seriously.”

I gave the room a last look—the strewn bedsheets, the tossed pillows, the empty bottles of wine—and I strode past the women into the hall.

“But what now?” Lucine asked, following me toward the living room.

“Now I'll send Alek after her. Again.”

“Alek? But isn't he gone too?”

The thought hadn't occurred to me. I stopped so suddenly that she bumped into me.

“Excuse me, I'm sorry.”

“No,” I said, spinning. “What are you basing this on?”

“My intuition,” she said.

“Wait for me in the main room. Please.”

I ran through the house toward the west tower, and with each step I cursed myself for not seeing this earlier. She was right, of course. Alek's affection for Natasha, not any call to duty, was driving him. He'd practically worn his loyalty to her on his sleeve.

He hadn't been forthcoming about his rescue of Natasha, and I'd allowed his reticence, taken with my own distractions. But I should have made things clearer to him. I should have intervened!

“Alek!”

The hall to our rooms wavered under candlelight. I burst into his room.

“Alek!”

His bed was still made. Untouched! What else had I expected?

Lucine was alone in the living room when I entered. No servants, no Kesia. Only Lucine in her white nightgown, flowing against her thighs like angel wings. She was nibbling on her fingernail, nervous as a cat.

I paused, thinking I should excuse myself.

“So?” she said, approaching quickly.

“So, yes. You were right.”

“He's gone.” She rushed to the door that led out to the garden, threw it open, and stepped out into the back. “Natasha!” She ran out into the courtyard, crying the name of her sister. “Natasha!”

“Lucine!” I ran to stop her. Or to help her, I don't know which. By the time I reached the flagstone, she was already halfway down the steps that descended to the rose gardens and hedge maze. “Lucine!”

“Natasha!” she cried. A quail took flight from the grass on her right, fluttering into the night. She stopped at the bottom, by the second fountain, and gave one last call. But only a far-off owl answered.

“Lucine, please, you should go inside,” I said, reaching for her shoulder. I feared that my alarm at her sister's indiscretion in leaving yet again had frightened her. “Please, if she is with Alek she will be safe. I can vouch for that.”

“We don't even know they went back to the castle,” she cried. “Knowing those two, they're here, hiding out.”

“Then they don't want to be discovered. And again, Alek—”

“Your man is no better than she!”

“Please . . .”

“Both of them have that look. It's a mindlessness, the complete falling for a vice. I swear, any man who allows himself such indulgences should be put in a cage!”

The words washed over me like a pail of stream water in the winter. I stood there hovering over her shoulder, and my entire body seemed to freeze.

Was she talking about me? Did she know? She was calling me out! In her frustration with Alek, she was making her will known to me, surely.

Have no emotion for me, Toma. The man with emotion over honor is the crazed man I would punish
.

“That's the problem with this crazy Cantemir family,” she said, staring at the mountains in the west. “They run on this ridiculous obsession with pleasure and love.”

The Carpathians rose black against a full-moon sky, forbidding, gigantic hammers lowered by the gods with enough force to remain immovable for all eternity. The looming obstacle felt like the one in my heart.

“You don't have to worry, madam. I've seen Alek lost in love many times and he never lets it interfere with his better judgment.”

“How can you say that? He's gone
with
her.”

“Only because he sees no true danger. They are a peculiar lot, these Russians, but they haven't provoked without being provoked. Even if she has gone back, she'll be safe as long as Alek's with her.”

She closed her eyes and breathed out, overemotional herself, I thought. Something besides Natasha was on her mind. Now I faced a rather awkward situation.

I was beside myself for her. My own emotions refused to give me any space. I had put up a brave face and made myself as invisible as possible after much vacillation, but none of it had tempered my feelings.

Now by moonlight she had told me she thought emotions were the bane of mankind. And yet she herself was in need. I was at a complete loss.

Then, to make matters absolutely impossible for me, she took two steps to the stone bench, sat, and lowered her face into her hands.

My heart was breaking! I wanted to rush over and hold her to my breast and assure her that whatever I had done to bring this sorrow would be immediately undone. But I wasn't sure that I had caused her pain. Maybe her sister's disappearance was wholly responsible.

“Lucine . . .” I walked to the bench, then, after a moment's pause with no one watching, I sat. “She'll be safe. I swear it on my life. If I must bring her back myself and chain her to a bed, I shall.”

“No.” Her voice was tight and she swallowed—I could see her throat move by moonlight. “That's not it. I'm afraid I'm not crying for her. You're right. I'm sure she'll be fine.”

“Then whom? Alek?”

She turned her glistening eyes on me and offered a small smile, then faced the mountains again. “I've always lived in her shadow, you see. Natasha has always been the life of society. The crazy one who will take ten men by their tails and throw them onto her bed if she's in the mood.”

She stopped there, but she didn't have to say a word more. I could not hold my tongue.

“And I for one would choose you over Natasha without a moment's hesitation.”

The night was suddenly warm. Lucine looked at me, perfect in every way: her small nose, her smooth cheeks, her tossed dark hair, and eyes golden by this light. My heart was crashing in my chest and I was terrified she might hear it.

“Not that I'm given to emotion,” I said quickly, remembering her comments about indulgence.

“Don't be silly, Toma.” She looked away from me and my heart fell to the ground, shattering. “I was only saying that because I am secretly and insanely jealous of her.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Which woman would not be? She might be far too loose for my liking, but she is loved. Desperately. By many. Whom do you know who doesn't long to be loved?”

Lucine wanted to be loved.

“Only if that love is genuine. Freely given,” I said.

“So they say. So they say. However it is, there's no feeling like love. I should know, I once embraced it with abandon. Now Natasha is washed with this feeling.”

She was taking her sister's side, a twin who saw the other side so clearly. Two sides of the same coin, the French said. Lucine and Natasha. Tempered and untamed. Brash and meek. Wise and foolish.

Lucine might see her sister clearly, but I couldn't bear the thought of her changing in any way. “You don't want to be like Natasha, Lucine.”

“Why not?” She faced me, chin strong.