Bishop Raphael joined their little group beside the splashing fountain to ask Natalia about a rumored collection of religious icons owned by the Blackstones.
“My mother collected them,” Natalia confirmed. “She built a private chapel in our house and lined it with the icons that reminded her of home.”
Countess Cassini overheard and once again chose to speak in Russian. “I’m surprised she didn’t decorate it with a stage curtain and greasepaint.”
Natalia stiffened, and Dimitri was rendered speechless, but this time Frau Schreiber refused to overlook the breach of decorum. “I wish you would speak in English when you know most of us don’t understand Russian.”
The reprimand was obvious, but Countess Cassini’s eyes danced with amusement as she looked at Natalia. “I don’t think Miss Blackstone would be comfortable speaking about such things in public,” she said in English.
“Then you should not have said them,” Frau Schreiber scolded.
“I don’t mind translating,” Natalia said, and Dimitri held his breath, drawing closer to Natalia’s side. “Countess Cassini pointed out that my mother was once a dancer,” Natalia said calmly. “She danced with the Bolshoi Ballet, but after she cameto New York, a part of her heart stayed in Russia. That’s why she created her own private chapel that reflected her love of Christ and her longing for her homeland. Even dancing girls can be women of faith.”
Dimitri lifted Natalia’s hand and pressed a slow kiss to the back of it, lingering a fraction too long, but he wanted the world to see his devotion to Natalia. “One of my greatest regrets is that I never had a chance to meet Galina Danilova Blackstone,” he said, gazing directly into Natalia’s eyes. “She raised a daughter who loves her ancestral homeland but has the strength and ingenuity of America. It is an entrancing combination.”
“My goodness,” Countess Cassini said, “the way your eyes are devouring Miss Blackstone looks positively lascivious, and in front of the bishop too.”
Dimitri would tolerate no more. He raised his chin and pierced the girl with a stare he inherited from centuries of aristocratic privilege. “You are only partially correct,” he said, loud enough for everyone in the garden to hear. “Miss Blackstone is indeed lovely, but my eyes are not lascivious, they are full of reverence. I know the difference between crude physical needs and something more lasting. The heart of a man is wider, deeper, and stronger than anything that can be measured with the human eye. Natalia is my North Star. When I wandered in the wilds of Siberia, it was thoughts of Natalia that kept me alive.”
By now all the conversation in the garden had thudded to a halt. A group of matrons silently cheered him on as he continued addressing Countess Cassini.
“After I witnessed the unspeakable evil committed in the czar’s name, I lived with the shame of being affiliated with that corrupt regime. The shame deepened when the czar failed to denounce the act, but I clung to the wisdom and optimism I learned from Natalia to sustain me during those dark months. I love her beyond measure. When I was lost in the woods, it was Natalia who inspired me to fight when I wanted to give up. Memory of her humor made me laugh when I wanted to weep.She is everything good in a woman, and if I die tonight, I will consider myself blessed for having found her against all odds.”
Natalia looked flushed in pleased embarrassment, but everyone who witnessed his declaration smiled except the young countess.
He meant every word of it. Now he prayed that he could convince Natalia they belonged together for good and to make their home beneath the wild, glorious skies of Russia.
Dimitri felt heat building beneath his collar when he saw the unforgiving look on Count Cassini’s face. It was the end of the evening, and the ambassador stood at the top of the embassy steps—seemingly to wish everyone farewell, but his displeasure was obvious.
Dimitri felt the older man’s eyes boring into his back as he helped Natalia into a carriage. Natalia noticed the ambassador’s odd behavior, her worried gaze glancing across the torchlit driveway.
“Wait here,” Dimitri told her. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
He feigned a look of casual elegance as he strolled across the driveway toward the ambassador, but his hands itched. Hives, probably.
He stuck them in his pockets as he arrived at the top of the landing and met the ambassador’s frank gaze. “Why are you staring at me? I am clearly the object of intense fascination, but I think you have something else on your mind.”
The ambassador’s face relaxed, which was mildly alarming. “I know it seems as if you have the world in the palm of your hand,” he said in a low voice, “but it onlyseemsthat way.”
Dimitri lifted his chin. “Don’t play word games. Tell me exactly what you want of me.”
“From you? Nothing. I welcomed you here tonight to demonstrate that the czar has nothing to fear from you, that the incident at the Amur was only the reckless behavior of a few rogue army officers. But tonight you included the czar in your attack, and that won’t be tolerated.”
Dimitri silently cringed as he realized his mistake. During those reckless moments while he lavished praise on Natalia, he’d accidentally let loose his true feelings about the czar. It wasn’t intentional. It was a stupid, careless misstep, and possibly a costly one.
He bowed his head. “You are entirely correct,” he conceded. “It will not happen again.”
The ambassador’s face did not soften. “If you persist in casting aspersions on the integrity of the imperial regime, I will make life uncomfortable for the woman you claim to love so ardently. We have already discussed this. I hope we don’t need to revisit the conversation ever again.”
Count Cassini turned on his heel and walked back inside the embassy, the doors slamming shut behind him, and Dimitri could only pray his carelessness would not carry greater repercussions.
26
Natalia existed in a haze of painful infatuation during the train ride back to New York. Dimitri had been closemouthed about whatever he said to the ambassador last night, but she already knew their trip to Washington had been a triumph.
They loved each other. Against all odds, they had found each other from opposite sides of the world, but Dimitri’s bone-deep love for his homeland was going to pull them apart. She leaned her head against the window, the rhythmic clicking of the wheels keeping pace with her whirling thoughts as they sped across the countryside. Dimitri’s mission would not be complete until they had the official word from the czar. They would continue whipping up publicity about the Amur River upon their return to New York until they had the czar’s promise in writing.
And then?
