Besides Semen, the brawniest of the footmen had also accompanied her at a nod from Sonya, as had Sonya herself. The four of them were now inside the woodhouse. Ample sunlight spilled in from the open doorway to light the stuffy room. But instead of being released and left alone, Katherine was handed over to the younger, more muscular fellow who gathered both of her hands in his and held them tightly in front of her.
“Am I to be tied up too?” Katherine sneered at this. “How quaint.”
“There’s no need for ropes,” Sonya said condescendingly. “Rodion here is quite capable of restraining you for however long it takes.”
“However long what takes?”
“You will be caned until you are ready to beg my pardon for your insolence.”
The blood momentarily left Katherine’s face. So that’s what a visit to the woodhouse meant! Good Lord, this was right out of the Dark Ages!
“You’re out of your mind.” Katherine said each word slowly, clearly, as she turned her head to glare at the older woman, who now stood behind her. “You can’t get away with this. I’m a member of the British peerage, the Lady Katherine St. John.”
Sonya was given a start, but only for a moment. She had already drawn her conclusions about Katherine, and serfs weren’t the only ones who clung tenaciously to first impressions. The woman was of no account. Dimitri’s treatment of her proved it. It was Sonya’s duty to break such haughtiness before it spread to the other servants.
“Whoever you are,” Sonya said coldly, “you must learn some manners. You may determine yourself how long it will take for you to improve your disposition. You may beg my pardon now—”
“Never!” Katherine spat. “I give respect only to those deserving it. You, madame, have only my contempt.”
“Begin!” Sonya screeched, her face livid with rage once again.
Katherine’s head swung back, her eyes impaling the footman whose hold had tightened on her wrists with the order. “Release me this second.”
There was such authority in her voice that Rodion’s hold actually loosened. But the Princess was standing right there. Katherine saw the fellow’s dilemma, saw the indecision and worry cross his craggy features, and knew the moment the Princess won out.
“You had better hope you’re not around when the Prince finds out about—”
Katherine stopped, steeling herself, hearing the horrid whish of the cane just before it struck. The pain was worse than anything she could have imagined. The breath hissed through her teeth. Her mind shrieked. That first blow brought her to her knees.
“Tell her what she wants, miss,” Rodion whispered imploringly, looking down at her.
He was the only one to see her face when the cane struck, and then the second blow, even worse for landing in the same spot, and then the third, striking her lower back. Her hands trembled. Blood appeared on her lip where her teeth had dug in. She was so tiny, so delicate, not a hardy peasant whose body would have been conditioned by hard labor to undergo such punishment. A few blows of the cane was nothing to a serf. But this was no serf. Whoever she was, she couldn’t take this kind of abuse.
“Let me go” was all Katherine replied to Rodion’s entreaty.
“Sweet Mary, I can’t, miss,” he said miserably as Semen wielded the cane yet another time.
“Then don’t…let me…fall.”
“Just tell her—”
“I can’t,” she gasped then swayed forward under the next blow. “St. John pride…you know.”
Rodion was incredulous. Pride? And she was serious! Only the aristos let pride rule their actions. Dear Sweet Mary, what was he a party to here? Could she have been telling the truth about who she was?
It was with the greatest relief that he was able to say a moment later, “She’s fainted, Princess.”
“You want me to revive her?” Semen asked.
“No,” Sonya said testily. “Stubborn woman. It obviously won’t do any good to pry an apology out of her. But administer a few more strokes, Semen, for good measure.”
It was Semen who protested this order. “But she’s unconscious, Princess.”
“So? She won’t feel it now, but she will when she wakes up.”
Rodion flinched with each subsequent blow of that accursed cane, wishing he were taking the punishment instead. But at least he held the woman up, supporting her by her forearms. She didn’t fall, as she had feared, though what was the sense of that he would never know.
“Search her” was Sonya’s last order.
