His idea of stranding her in Russia because of the weather had had its drawbacks from the beginning, mainly that he would have to forego seeing her for several months, until winter arrived. But he had known that once summer ended, she would be constantly demanding to know when she could leave. So he had had to avoid her, to avoid her questions, to get through autumn and hope winter would come early this year.
Sitting it out in St. Petersburg had been a long and depressing wait, especially through the cold and damp of autumn. And he hadn’t even had a wedding to plan for his sister which could have kept him occupied. As soon as he arrived, she had informed him thatthatparticular young man wouldn’t do after all. Dimitri had nothing to do but attend to normal business, which he had grossly neglected of late, the proof being in the account books Katherine had sent on to him, revealing not four companies nearing ruin but five. There were a few friends to visit, but most avoided the city in autumn as well as summer, and were only just returning now for the winter season. Natalia had finally shown up last week and had promised to give his problem of who to choose for a bride immediate thought, even if he didn’t care to think about it himself.
The most irritating, depressing, and outrageous thing about this time he had deliberately stayed away from Katherine was that he had remained celibate—he, who had never gone three nights without a woman when it wasn’t necessary. And it wasn’t necessary. There were women wherever he went who made it quite clear they were available. But they weren’t Katherine, and he was still in the throes of his obsession with his little English rose. Until he got her out of his system, no one else would do.
The very minute the ice started forming on the Neva, Dimitri sent for her. After all this time, he was madly impatient to see her again. So what did she do? She deliberately delayed her arrival! So like her. Anything to defy and aggravate him. Vladimir was so right. She had returned wholeheartedly to her normal contrariness. But that was certainly preferable to the silent contempt she had treated him to when they last parted. Anything was preferable to that.
So Dimitri waited again, but took advantage of the time to perfect the excuses he planned to offer Katherine for not getting her out of Russia in time. She was going to be furious, but he hoped it wouldn’t take her too long to accept the inevitable.
Katherine was thinking exactly the same thing as the carriages rolled along the one-hundred-foot-wide streets of St. Petersburg six days later. Dimitri was going to be furious with her, and rightly so, for missing her ship. The best way to get around his anger, she had found, was to attack on some different front. She had a store of grievances to choose from, all insignificant in light of her condition and what she now wanted, but all ready weapons she could make use of.
The vast openness of St. Petersburg was an amazing sight for someone used to the congestion of London. Katherine enjoyed her first real look at Russia’s window on the western world, for she hadn’t really seen anything on her whirlwind arrival here.
Everything was so monumental in this city of grandeur. The Winter Palace, a Russian baroque edifice of some four hundred rooms, was perhaps the most impressive sight, but there were so many palaces and other buildings of immense size, so many public squares. And the nearly three-mile-long Nevsky Prospeckt, the city’s main street, with its many stores and restaurants. She had a glimpse too of the Peter and Paul Fortress across the river, the prison where Peter the Great had sent his own son to his death.
The open-air market held the most interest for Katherine, distracting her enough to forget for a few moments her final destination. Great piles of frozen animals were brought here on sleds from all over the country. All manner of things frozen were used to preserve freshness for the cows, sheep, hogs and fowls, butter, eggs, fish.
And the delightful oddities. Bearded merchants in robelike caftans of drab colors next to their gaily dressed wives in brocaded smocks and tall, brightly colored headdresses that formed a shawl nearly touching the ground. Befurred Bashkirs. Turbaned Tartars. Holy men in their ankle-length tunics, with long, flowing beards. Katherine was able to distinguish some of the many different nationalities that comprised the Russian people.
Here were housewives carting away their purchases on little sleds, while street musicians in long coats and fur hats entertained them with aguslior adudka, and street vendors hawkingkalachi, twisted loaves of bread made from the finest flour, tried to tempt them to part with a few more kopecks.
This was the Russia she had seen so little of, the people, the differences, the beauty of so many cultures that all blended together. Katherine made a mental note to have Dimitri bring her here when there would be time to see everything instead of just riding slowly past—but then she was reminded again of where she was going.
She could have recognized Dimitri’s palace as they drew near, but it wasn’t necessary to try. He was outside on the steps, which had been brushed clean of the falling snow, and at the carriage the moment it stopped, opening the door, reaching in to take her hand.
Katherine had been extremely nervous on this last leg of the journey as they neared the city. After all, she had been particularly unkind and unforgiving when they were last together, refusing to listen to anything Dimitri had to say, letting her hurt develop into one of the worst pouts she had ever indulged in. Now her nervousness brought her defenses to the surface. Not that she wasn’t stunned by the sight of him, so dazzling in his splendid Russian uniform that her heart was racing at double time. But she no longer had just herself to think of. Her senses might be devastated, but her mind was quite ready for battle.
He drew her forward and lifted her to the ground. “Welcome to St. Petersburg.”
“I’ve been here before, Dimitri.”
“Yes, but for too short a time.”
“You’re right. Being whisked through a place doesn’t give one time to appreciate it. My arrival, slow and leisurely as it was, was much more pleasant than my departure.”
“Am I to apologize for that too, when I have so much more to apologize for?”
“Oh? You don’t mean to tell meyouhave done something to apologize for? Not you, surely.”
“Katya, please. If you want to cut me up into little pieces, can it at least wait until we go inside? If you haven’t noticed, it’s snowing.”
How could she not notice when her eyes were fascinated watching each little white flake melt on his face? And why wasn’t he screaming at her for taking her sweet time in getting here? He seemed to be making an extreme effort to be pleasant, too pleasant, when she had been expecting the worst. Hadn’t the river frozen over yet? Was she too early after all?
“Of course, Dimitri, lead the way. I am at your disposal, as usual.”
Dimitri flinched at her tone. Katherine’s mood was worse than he had expected, and she hadn’t even been told she was stranded yet. What then could he expect when she learned of her new situation?
He took her elbow and ushered her up the steps. The large double doors opened as they reached them and closed immediately after they had stepped inside, opening again a moment later to admit Vladimir and the others carrying in some of the baggage, closing again immediately. This opening and closing of doors, as if she didn’t have hands of her own to do it, had annoyed Katherine before, but not since the cold arrived, for the quickness of the footmen certainly kept cold drafts down to a minimum.
Used to the quiet elegance of Novii Domik, Katherine was momentarily amazed by the opulence of Dimitri’s city residence. Polished parquet floors, wide marble stairs thickly carpeted, paintings in gilt frames, a mammoth chandelier of crystal suspended in the center of this enormous room, and this was just the entry hall.
Katherine said nothing, but waited until Dimitri led her into another overlarge room, the drawing room, scattered with furniture in marble, rosewood, and mahogany, the chairs and sofas upholstered in silk and velvet in muted shades of rose and gold, blending well with the Persian rugs.
A large fire was crackling in the hearth, surprisingly wanning the entire room. Katherine settled herself in a chair big enough only for one, a defensive move noted by Dimitri. Sitting, she untied the heavy cape Marusia had lent her and tossed it back over the chair. Nothing that Dimitri had bought her in England was fit for a Russian winter. That would quickly be rectified. Her winter wardrobe was ordered and nearly finished. A servant had already been instructed to take a dress to the dressmaker for adjustments to the measurements as soon as her luggage was unpacked.
“Would you care for a brandy to warm you?” Dimitri asked, taking the seat opposite her.
“Is that a Russian cure-all too?”
