Dimitri eyed himself in the mirror as he adjusted the center knot of his snow-white tie, flawlessly starched and pressed by the staff at the hotel. Opal studs and cufflinks flashed as he adjusted his black cutaway jacket. A barber had been in earlier to trim his beard, clip his hair, and apply a slight sheen of Macassar oil. Dimitri looked every inch the aristocrat, down to his buffed nails and the patent-leather dress oxfords on his feet.
And yet, while he had been indulging in the luxury of a shave and a manicure, he wondered what Temujin was doing at this exact moment. How was he coping after the amputation of his foot? Had he succeeded in buying a farm? Their friendshipfelt like it belonged to another lifetime, but Temujin was one of those faraway people whose life would be affected by the czar’s reaffirmation of the treaty.
A knock sounded on his door. “Dimitri?” Natalia called from the other side. “The carriage is here.”
He opened the door and was nearly struck mute at seeing Natalia in a watered-silk gown of ice blue that gleamed in the candlelight. The silk was gathered at the shoulders like the dress of a Grecian goddess, then swept into a slight bustle before draping in graceful folds to the floor. At last he was seeing her dressed as a real woman, all soft and elegant. Instead of a sleek chignon, her hair was amassed at her crown and tumbled down her back in a spiral of ebony curls.
“That dress would make Helen of Troy envious,” he said.
A hint of color warmed her cheeks. “You exaggerate.”
The way he felt for her was no exaggeration. Natalia was his opposite and equal at the same time, and the mix was enthralling. He had sensed it from the other side of the world, and now that she stood within feet of him, the sensation was overwhelming.
“Exaggerate my feelings for you? Never! You look like a goddess.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything nice about me?” Poppy demanded from the front room of the suite.
Poppy’s nose had been out of joint ever since learning that Dimitri could only escort one lady to the Russian embassy and he’d chosen Natalia. Poppy still insisted on having her hair done and intended to treat herself to a five-course meal in the restaurant downstairs. Such behavior would be appalling for a woman in Russia’s conservative society, but things were obviously different here.
“I am only sorry I cannot escort you both,” he said gallantly. “With a beautiful lady on each arm, I would be the envy of the nation.”
It was twilight by the time their carriage arrived at the embassy, where torches illuminated the front staircase and portico.Guests mingled before the embassy, and to his amazement, Dimitri spotted a familiar young man with fair hair and a neatly groomed mustache. Johann Kuhn sported a few more lines around his eyes than the last time they’d been together, but his slim, athletic figure was the same.
“Johann!” Dimitri said as he lifted his hand in recognition.
His old school friend grinned. “Good to see you, Dimitri! When I heard you were the guest of honor, I finagled an invitation. How are you, my friend?”
He and Johann had attended boarding school in Zurich, where Dimitri had been sent to learn German and Johann was sent to keep him out of trouble. Their friendship flourished even though they couldn’t have been more different. Dimitri wanted nothing more than to return to the rustic comfort of Mirosa, while Johann wanted to open a bottle of champagne and seek out the nearest opera house. Now Johann had become a respectable envoy from Switzerland, so perhaps miracles really did happen.
“I’m doing well,” Dimitri said after returning a back-pounding hug. “Allow me to introduce Miss Natalia Blackstone. Natalia, my friend Johann is the man who helped me learn German and how to escape from a third-story dormitory room without detection.”
Johann’s eyes gleamed in masculine appreciation as he greeted Natalia. Dimitri watched her mingle easily with Johann and the other dignitaries on the portico. She socialized with ease, giving Dimitri confidence that she could flourish in Saint Petersburg as well. He was falling in love with her and refused to give up hope of a future for them in Russia.
“Let me introduce you to the king of Denmark,” Johann said. “You’ll like him. King Christian keeps ducks and pampers them like they are his children.”
The middle-aged Danish king stood on the far end of the portico, facing the lush gardens while surrounded by a circle of guests who watched him in fascination. The king had his hands cupped around his mouth and made surprisingly realistic birdcalls as he tried to coax a mockingbird nestled in a nearby tree to return his tweet.
Johann leaned in close to whisper in Dimitri’s ear. “Let’s wait to see if he can make that bird sing. He’s been trying for the last ten minutes.”
A dozen guests dressed in silks and glittering with diamonds watched the king try a variety of whistles and chirps while the mockingbird looked curiously at them. The bird flicked its tail feathers from side to side and finally let out a single warbling chirp.
The guests cheered in approval, causing the mockingbird to take flight, but the king was flushed with pride and accepted hearty congratulations from the onlookers. Dimitri proffered his arm to Natalia as they made their way toward the group. Johann performed the introductions, and Natalia was the epitome of elegance as she dropped into a gorgeous curtsy before the king.
King Christian nodded with approval, then turned his attention to Johann. “It looks like you’ve collected a few more medals since last we met.”
Johann grinned and laid a hand over the bronze star dangling from a ribbon. “This one caused the gray hair you see at my temples.”
He proceeded to tell how an avalanche in the Swiss alps crashed into a school, shoving the schoolhouse and the people inside down the mountain. Johann risked his life to rappel down a cliff three times to bring emergency supplies to the stranded survivors. Even the king was riveted as Johann recounted the tale.
“The teacher had two broken legs, and nightfall was nearly upon us, so it looked like she was going to have to endure the night down there. Luckily for her, I knew someone from a village downstream who had a sledge, and I thought we might be able to get her to a warmer place. I didn’t have much time—”
Johann was interrupted by Countess Cassini, who boldly injected herself into the group with a brisk clap of her hands to command attention.
Her attire stunned them all into silence. She wore a Byzantine-inspired tunic in shimmering bronze fabric. It was a sleeveless gown with a plunging neckline, and she had added bands of golden snakes coiled around both her arms. A stole of leopard’s fur was thrown over one shoulder.
“Welcome to the Russian embassy,” she announced. “Please follow me to the back garden, where the evening will commence.”
The eighteen-year-old girl’s demeanor did not sit well with the older ladies gathered on the portico.
