“Mitya, please, you mustn’t get upset,” Anastasia insisted with a worried frown. “The doctor said that once you regained full consciousness, you would have to remain undisturbed and progress slowly.”
“You’ve had a rough time of it,” Nikolai added. “You were burning with fever most of the time, though there were several occasions when you awoke and seemed perfectly normal, making us think it was over, but the fever came back again.”
“Yes, I’ve told you three times myself how you got here and what was wrong with you,” Anastasia said. “You were awake enough to make demands, give orders, and be a nuisance. Don’t you remember?”
“No.” Dimitri sighed. “How did I get here, if you wouldn’t mind telling it again?”
“Some soldiers found you while out searching for a runaway serf,” Anastasia explained. “They thought they had him when they saw your tracks leading to that shelter you were in. How long you had been there is anyone’s guess, for you were already delirious and couldn’t say. You couldn’t even tell them who you were.”
“They took you back to their barracks, and fortunately someone recognized you and sent word to us,” Nikolai continued. “When Vladimir got there, you were just lucid enough to demand he take you home.”
“Which was a mistake,” Anastasia added. “You were caught in a storm that had apparently already struck in that area several days earlier, and it took days to get you here. By then you were so much worse, we feared for your life.”
“Women,” Mikhail grunted. “They don’t realize a man isn’t going to let a little thing like a cold end his days, not when there are so much more exciting ways—”
“Spare me your gory adventures for now, Misha,” Dimitri said tiredly. “When did you get here, anyway?”
“About a week ago. Here I was expecting a glorious homecoming, and everyone is sitting around here with long faces, worrying about you.”
“Everyone?” His spirits rose. “Katherine too? Was she worried?”
“Katherine? Who is Katherine?”
Nikolai chuckled. “He means the little wench—”
“Lady Katherine St. John.” Dimitri glared at him.
“Really? You mean she was telling the truth, even about Sonya?”
“Yes, and that reminds me: What happened when you found her?”
The question, put in that tone, had the power to make Nikolai step back, even though he had nothing to fear from Dimitri at the moment, as weak as he was. “Nothing. I assure you I never even got near her.”
“Will someone tell me who this Katherine is?” Mikhail asked again, and again got no answer.
“Where is she?” Dimitri demanded, first of Nikolai, whose blank look made him turn to his sister next. “Nastya? She is here, isn’t she?”
“Actually—”
She got no farther, her uneasy look warning him that she was withholding bad news. “Vladimir!” He turned to Nikolai, frantic now. “Where is he? Get him for me.” And again: “Vladimir!”
Anastasia pushed him down on the bed as Nikolai rushed out of the room. “You can’t do this, Mitya! You’re going to have a relapse—”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No, I don’t, but I’m sure your man does, so if you will just calm down and wait until he gets here—”
“My lord?” Vladimir appeared, hurrying toward the bed, already apprised of the reason for Dimitri’s distress. “She went to the British Embassy, my lord.”
“When?”
“The day after you left. She is still there.”
“I posted a man to keep watch, my lord. He has yet to see her leave.”
The tension drained out of him, leaving Dimitri so weak that he could barely keep his eyes open. As long as he knew where she was…
“Now will someone tell me who this Katherine is?” Mikhail demanded.
