“Come, Katya, we will discuss this in my cabin over dinner.”
She drew her arm out of the way when he reached for it. “There is nothing to discuss. Either put me ashore or let me jump ship.”
“To me you make demands, to Sergei you make sweet requests. Perhaps you should change your tactics.”
“Go to hell!”
Katherine stalked away, only to realize belatedly that she had nowhere to go, no cabin of her own to retreat to, no place on the entire ship,hisship, where she could hide. And time was running out, England receding more and more into the distance with each passing second.
She stopped just as she reached the companionway and turned back toward the Prince, and found herself nearly knocked off her feet as he bumped into her, having been close at her heels. His quick reflex in grabbing her was the only thing that kept her from tumbling down the stairs, and now she was in the same position she had been in earlier, only facing him this time.
She had been ready to swallow her pride. She could have swallowed her tongue in that moment of pure physical sensation and not known it.
“You had something more to say, Katya?”
“What?” He stepped back, releasing her, and her thoughts came rushing back. “Yes, I—”
Good Lord, this wasn’t easy.How do you humble yourself, Katherine, when you’d rather kick his shins?
She looked up, then quickly down. The dark, velvety eyes were as potent as his embrace had been. And at this close proximity, she didn’t dare meet such a challenge.
“I apologize, Prince Alexandrov. I’m not usually so short-tempered, but under the circumstances…never mind. Look, I am willing to be reasonable. If you will put me ashore, I swear I will forget we ever met. I won’t go to the authorities. I won’t even tell my father what happened. I just want to go home.”
“I’m sorry, Katya, I truly am. If Tzar Nicholas weren’t visiting your queen this summer, it wouldn’t be necessary to remove you from England. But your English newspapers would love to have a reason to attack Nicholas Pavlovich. I won’t give them that reason.”
“I swear—”
“I can’t take the chance.”
Katherine was angry enough to look him in the eye now. “Look, I was upset this morning. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. But now I’ve told you who I am. You must see that I can’t afford to exact retribution, that I can’t do anything without embroiling my family in a terrible scandal, and that I would never do.”
“I would agree, if you were in fact a St. John.”
She made a sound that was half a groan, half a scream. “You can’t do this! Do you know what it will do to my family, the anguish they’ll go through not knowing what happened to me? Please, Alexandrov!”
She could see that his conscience was pricked, yet it didn’t make any difference. “I’m sorry.” His hand came up to caress her cheek, but dropped when she flinched away. “Don’t take it so hard, little one. I will return you to England as soon as the Tzar’s visit is over.”
Katherine gave him one last chance. “You won’t change your mind?”
“I can’t.”
With nothing left to say, she did what she had wanted to do in the first place: drew back her foot and gave his shin a solid kick. Unfortunately she forgot she wasn’t wearing any shoes. His grunt of pain wasn’t quite as satisfactory as she had hoped, and her toes were throbbing, but she gave him her back anyway and limped down the stairs. Hearing him bellow for Vladimir didn’t stop her. She passed the Prince’s cabin, found the storeroom, and sat down on the trunk she had been locked in earlier. There she waited; for what, she didn’t know.
Chapter Twelve
“Sweet Mary and Jesus!” Vladimir exploded. “What did I say? Tell me! All I asked was for you to take the new clothes to her and extend Dimitri’s invitation to dinner. But you look at me as if I suggested you do murder!”
Marusia lowered her gaze, but her mouth was set mulishly, and her knife chopped with excessive force, multilating the spinach for the salad she was preparing. “Why do you ask me anyway? You said he made her your responsibility. Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean I’ll share that responsibility.”
“Marusia—”
“No! I won’t do it, so don’t ask again. The poor thing has been through enough.”
“Poorthing! That poor thing snarls like a she-wolf.”
“Ah, so now we have it. You’re afraid to face her after all you’ve done.”
Vladimir sat down heavily at the opposite side of the table. He glared at the cook’s back, whose shoulders were shaking suspiciously. His two galley helpers peeling potatoes in the corner were doing their best to pretend they lacked ears. This was no place to have an argument with his wife. Everyone aboard ship would know of it before morning.
