“Forgive me. I sometimes forget myself when speaking to an ignoramus.”
Nadezhda didn’t know whatignoramusmeant either, but she did know when she was being subtly insulted. “You think you are so clever with your fancy words, eh? Well, Miss Clever Bitch, what do you think of Prince Dimitri’s return and his avoidance of you?”
Katherine’s expression became an open book filled with excitement. “Dimitri’s back? When?”
“Early last evening.”
Early last evening Katherine had been dead to the world after twelve hours of drudgery. She wouldn’t have heard anything if the house had fallen down around her ears, so she certainly wouldn’t have heard Dimitri raising hell in her defense. But then why hadn’t he sought her out? The morning was hours old. Why was she still here?
“You’re lying.”
Nadezhda’s lips tilted mockingly. “I have no need to lie about this. Ask Ludmilla there. She saw him come in. Ask anyone here. They all thought to keep it from you because of your insistence that he would be furious when he learned what had happened. Well, little fool, he was furious, to be sure, but with you.”
“Then his aunt didn’t tell him the truth.”
“Believe that if you like, but I know differently. The conversation they had was overheard. Princess Sonya told him everything. He knows you’re here scrubbing floors and he doesn’t care. Stupid wench,” Nadezhda spat. “Did you really think he would take your side against his aunt? He’s been up for hours, making preparations to leave again today. That’s how eager he is to see you.”
Katherine didn’t believe her. She couldn’t. She was a spiteful, malicious girl, though what Katherine had done to earn her enmity she didn’t know. But Rodion came into the kitchen just then, and surmising the situation, yanked Nadezhda to her feet. He wouldn’t lie to Katherine. He had been nothing but kindness since Nikolai had brought her back here.
“What have you done, Nadezhda?” he demanded.
The girl simply laughed, and jerking her hand away, swayed back to her corner of the kitchen. Rodion immediately bent down to help Katherine scoop the pile of scraps back into the bowl. She didn’t say anything until the messy job was done, then she asked him plainly, “Rodion, is Dimitri really here?”
He wouldn’t look up. “Yes.”
A full minute passed. “And he knows where he can find me?”
“Yes.”
He glanced at her then, but wished to God he hadn’t. Sweet Mary, he had never seen such bleak pain in someone’s eyes before. The beating hadn’t done it to her, but a few nasty words from that spiteful Nadezhda had.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She didn’t seem to hear. She hung her head and began the mechanical motions that pushed the brush back and forth across the floor. Rodion stood up and looked about the room, but everyone suddenly seemed inordinately busy, no one even hazarding a glance in their direction—except Nadezhda, who smiled gloatingly. Rodion turned and stalked out of the kitchen.
Katherine continued scrubbing the same spot, over and over. How furious Sonya would be if she knew how beneficial this particular task was for Katherine. She had been angry when she had been given no choice but to comply and do as the witch ordered. She had discerned immediately that Sonya would have relished her refusal, so instead she refused to give her that satisfaction. She would scrub the bloody floor until it killed her, without a single complaint.
But instead of the physical labor aggravating her sore back, it had eased her condition, the constant slow moving of her arms pulling and massaging each muscle, soothing the tightness, reducing the swelling instead of inflaming it as that jarring ride had done. And after a full day of scrubbing yesterday, when she might have thought she would have to crawl to her bed in agony, she was simply worn out from the labor, a strain in her lower back, and a definite soreness in her arms and hands, but that she didn’t mind at all. All movement was easier now, with only a slight twinge here and there. She could almost forget the beating, if she didn’t actually touch her back.
The tears that had been gathering in her eyes spilled over.So much for trying to distract yourself, you idiot. When was the last time you cried without some kind of pain forcing the tears out? There’s no pain now, you stupid ninny. Stop it! There’s no good reason! You knew all along he didn’t care. Look how he left without a word, without insuring your safety. just a few words to his aunt could have prevented that archaic beating.
Oh, God, it hurt so much that she could hardly breathe for the choking constriction in her throat. How could he just leave her here? He wasn’t even going to come to see if she was all right after that savage beating. He cared that little. That’s what hurt the most.
He had spent the night here, gone to bed knowing that his aunt had condemned her to slavery in the kitchen, done nothing to alter that fact. No apologies. No champion. And he was going to leave again. Was this his idea then of how she would be kept busy while she was here? The bastard.
And you fell in love with him, you contemptible fool, even when you knew it was an asinine thing to do. Well, you got just what you deserved. You always knew love was an insane emotion, and this proves it.
It was no use. There was no room for anger to take hold, nothing inside her but the hurt that was fast numbing her senses, until finally there was nothing left to feel but welcome emptiness.
Chapter Thirty-one
“The boots, man!” Dimitri growled impatiently. “I’m not presenting myself at court. They’ll be covered with dust by the end of the day.”
Semen rushed forward with the boots still only half shined. Why didhehave to be at the bottom of the stairs when the Prince needed a valet to replace the absent Maksim? He was a jumble of nerves, expecting at any moment that the Englishwoman would appear and tell Dimitri the whole of the story, not just the half-truths the Princess had told him. But then she didn’t even know the Prince was back. Why should she leave the kitchen? He couldn’t depend on that. He wouldn’t be able to relax until Dimitri was gone again, and, thank God, he was preparing to leave now.
Dimitri caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and was surprised by the baleful stare it returned. No wonder Semen was so edgy. Had he possessed this angry look all morning? How should he know? He was still half drunk, if truth were known. Two bottles of vodka hadn’t produced the desired effect of putting him to sleep. It had only made his thoughts discordant as the night wore on. And even after a sleepless night, he still wasn’t tired. Sweet Christ, what he wouldn’t give for a little sleep to erase the whole problem from his mind.
“You want the dress sword, my lord?”
