“I suppose I should wear my medals too on the road,” Dimitri snapped, but then quickly apologized for his testiness.
He had donned one of his old uniforms simply because he felt in a warlike mood. He didn’t have to wear all the trappings that went with it. The scarlet jacket was still in excellent condition, the tight white trousers spotless, the knee-high boots as stiff as when they were new. If the Tzar had his way, the whole country would be in uniform, civilian as well as military. Unlike in other countries, here a man’s uniforms didn’t retire from active service when he did. At court, rarely anything else was worn.
The knock at the door brought a sharp “Come in!” before Semen could move to open it.
Rodion stepped into the room, looking uncomfortable when he saw Dimitri’s scowling countenance. It had been one thing to think about setting the record straight for the woman’s sake, but quite another actually to speak up when the Prince was looking like this.
Semen had quite literally turned ashen, guessing Rodion’s intention. Rodion had gotten drunk the night the woman burned with fever from the beating. He had been the one to take her to Parasha. He had been the one to warn the kitchen workers to leave her alone. Yet he had played a part in hurting the woman just as Semen had, even if neither had had any choice. How could he forget that?
“Well?” Dimitri barked.
“I—I think there is something you should know—about the Englishwoman—before you leave, my lord.”
“Katherine. Her name is Katherine,” Dimitri snarled. “And there isn’t anything you can tell me about her that would surprise me, so don’t bother. In fact if I never hear another thing about her, it will be too soon!”
“Yes, my lord.” Rodion turned to leave, relieved and yet disappointed at the same time.
Semen was just letting out his breath, some little color returning to his cheeks, when the Prince halted Rodion.
“I’m sorry, Rodion.” Dimitri motioned him back, sighing. “I didn’t actually mean any of that. What did you have to tell me about Katherine?”
“Just that—” Rodion exchanged a glance with Semen, but stiffened his resolve and blurted—“your aunt had her caned, my lord, so badly that she didn’t awaken for nearly two days. She works in the kitchen now, but not by choice. She would have been beaten again if she had refused.”
Dimitri didn’t say a word. For a long moment he just stood there staring at Rodion, then he left the room so quickly that Rodion had to jump back out of the way.
“Why did you have to do that, you fool?” Semen demanded. “Did you see the look on his face?”
Rodion was not in the least sorry now. “She was right, Semen. And it would have gone a lot worse if he had found out later, after he’d left, and no one bothering to tell him while he was still here. But he’s a fair man. He isn’t going to blame us for following the Princess’s orders. It’s not who wielded the cane that will concern him but why it was done, and that’s for his aunt to explain, if she can.”
From downstairs, the crash of the kitchen door could be heard throughout the whole house. Three more crashes followed, though not nearly so loud, as several women in the kitchen were so startled that they dropped what they had been holding.
Every eye was on the Prince, framed in the doorway, though a few spared a glance for the broken hinge dangling from the door. Every eye, that is, except Katherine’s. She didn’t bother to look up, not when he appeared so dramatically, not when he crossed the kitchen to stand above her, not when he dropped to his knees beside her. She knew he was there. His presence had always been unmistakable, even when she couldn’t see him. She simply didn’t care. If he had come last night, she probably would have cried on his shoulder. Now he could go to the devil. Too late was too late.
“Katya?”
“Go away, Alexandrov.”
“Katya, please—I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what? That I was here? I happen to know otherwise. I happen to know that witch relative of yours told you everything.”
She still hadn’t looked up at him. Her hair, loose beneath the kerchief tied round her head, fell forward over both shoulders, partially concealing her face as she bent over still scrubbing the floor. The dress she wore wasn’t hers and was so filthy that it reeked. Dimitri felt like killing someone, but first he had to take care of Katherine.
“She told me that you were sleeping with the servants,notthat she put you there. I thought it was your choice, Katya, just as before, that you were again refusing any amenity I offered you. She told me you had run away and she had put you to work here. She said you didn’t refuse the work. Again I thought it was your choice.”
“Which shows what you get for thinking, Alexandrov, a total waste of time for you.”
“At least look at me when you insult me.”
“Go to hell.”
“Katya, I didn’t know you were beaten!” he said in exasperation.
“It’s nothing.”
“Must I strip you to see for myself?”
“All right! So I have a few bruises. It doesn’t hurt anymore, so your concern is a bit late, not to mention rather dubious.”
