Forever in Your Embrace (27 page)

Blushing at the idea, Synnovea answered breathlessly, “Natasha, you’re absolutely scandalous.”

The older countess heaved a wistful sigh. “That was what my last husband said, and we were married the longest.” Her eyes glowed softly in warm remembrance as she confided, “But then, Count Emelian Andreyev”—her tongue rolled his name off with loving ease—“never, to my knowledge, seriously looked at another woman all the time we were married.”

Synnovea had often sensed that Natasha had loved her last husband more than her first two. Her own heart warmed with the idea of such devotion. “Should I ever marry, Natasha, I shall come to you for advice. I’m sure you hold all the secrets for keeping a husband happy and content.”

Natasha laughed at the notion. “I can probably tell you a thing or two.” She paused to more fully contemplate the matter, and then nodded with conviction. “In fact, I can probably tell you a great deal about holding a husband’s attention. And should you marry a man of whom I approve, I’ll try to be most diligent in instructing you.”

Synnovea was immediately suspicious. “And, of course, you would direct me concerning your choice?”

“Naturally, my dear.” The corners of Natasha’s lips lifted slyly. “I should like to begin the formalities by inviting Colonel Rycroft to talk with you while you’re staying at my home.” She held up a hand to halt any protests that might be forthcoming. “Is it so much to ask? After all, Colonel Rycroft did save you from being violated by that renegade thief. Can you not be gracious to the man?”

“You’ll nag me until I agree,” Synnovea accused with an exaggerated sigh, giving in far more willingly than her earlier protestations seemed to bear out. “And so I shall, but ’twill not be to my liking. I warn you of that!”

Natasha folded her hands in genteel contentment. “We shall see how adamantly you disdain the man, my dear.”

“Though I perceive you’re a true
svakhi
at heart, Natasha, your matchmaking efforts will do you no good,” Synnovea warned. “Anna will never allow the colonel to court me. She simply detests foreigners.”

Natasha’s smile deepened. “As I’ve told you, my dear, the man has attracted the attention of the tsar. ’Tis rumored that His Majesty has been so intrigued and entertained by all the mock battles, forays, and drills the colonel and his men have put on that every weekday morning now he goes out and stands on the wall of the Kremlin to watch them. In view of that fact, my dear, do you think that Tsar Mikhail will be so ill-disposed toward the colonel that he’ll long deny him his heart’s desire? My dearest Synnovea, I wouldn’t put odds on Anna’s power to dissuade her cousin if he happens to grant the colonel’s request.”

“You truly are infatuated with the man, aren’t you?” Synnovea accused, amazed that the woman could bring herself to express such delight in one of the opposite gender. Synnovea would have thought that at Natasha’s age, the woman would’ve ceased to be so easily smitten.

Natasha pondered the other’s supposition for the briefest moment before changing it slightly. “
Taken
with the man would be a better description of my feelings, my dear. ’Tis my opinion that men like Colonel Rycroft are a rare breed.” She nodded. “A rare breed, indeed.”

A
fierce storm swept over the city in the wee morning hours, whipping trees into a frenzy and setting shutters to flapping noisily at nearly every window. In the peaceful lull that followed, relieved sighs were slowly expelled, and it seemed for a time at least that the tempest had passed beyond them. Yet in a trio of hours the hushed stillness was again shattered by another vicious assault that slashed the area with savage winds and pelting rains.

The changing conditions seemed but a mild portent of what was about to occur in Synnovea’s life, for she had barely begun to relax in the serenity that had finally settled over the land when her tranquility was once more rudely disrupted, this time by Anna. It wasn’t enough that her guardian stood outside her locked door, demanding entrance in outraged tones as she rapped insistently upon the wood. Such simple deeds were effective in forewarning the occupant of the seriousness of her mood, but when Synnovea hastened to open the portal, Anna’s entrance could have been likened to another violent squall blowing in.

No dreaded harbinger of doom could have derived as much satisfaction from the delivery of an ominous omen as the princess clearly did when she announced her reasons for intruding. “Since you’ve managed to lure Prince Vladimir from more noble interests, I can only agree with what Aleksei has suggested. It seems the old lecher and his sons are quite taken with you, so much so that Vladimir begged Aleksei to consider his proposal before leaving the house last night.”

“But I barely spoke to him,” Synnovea insisted, wary of what would follow.

“Nevertheless, he has been enamored,” Anna pointed out venomously. Touching a lace handkerchief briefly to a thin nostril, she continued in a peremptory vein. “Of course, there’s no help for it now with the situation facing us. We must act before Colonel Rycroft manages to disgrace us all. Our guests were simply abuzz over the effrontery of that callous Englishman. The very idea of that lowborn knave appealing to the tsar for permission to court you, as if he merited such favor! Why, it’s unforgivable! Believe me, my dear, when this matter is finally put to rest, you may be assured of one thing. The colonel’s ambitions will not be allowed to come to fruition. I’ll see to that. This very hour I’ve sent Vladimir a missive confirming our approval of your marriage to him. Such a contract will forestall
any
interference, whether it comes from your English admirer or from another who may hope to win you, including Major Nekrasov.”

Synnovea clutched a trembling hand to her throat, knowing only too well that it was Aleksei’s trap closing in around her. He had warned her what he’d do, but she had hoped to escape the Taraslovs’ authority before he could reap his revenge.

By slow degrees, Synnovea became aware of Ali standing in the doorway of her narrow cubicle. The old servant looked positively horror-stricken, reflecting the spiraling apprehensions that now besieged her mistress. In daunted silence both mistress and maid listened to the plans the princess was presently laying forth.

“Prince Vladimir is anxious to wed, and in view of Colonel Rycroft’s zeal to court you, we’ve decided to indulge the elder’s impetuousness by allowing him to arrange the nuptials during my absence. Ivan and I shall be departing in the morning to visit my father, but the cleric has commitments in Moscow which he must attend ere the month is out. I’ve made arrangements for our return a fortnight hence. You’ll be married the following week.”

Synnovea was stunned by the dispatch with which the matter would be concluded. Faintly she queried, “So soon?”

Anna settled a cold, unsympathetic gaze upon her charge. “I see no reason for suffering through a lengthy delay before the wedding. Do you?”

Synnovea could think of several. “Given a few more days, I might be able to prepare for the occasion better. I could even have a new gown made and sew handkerchiefs for the
boyarinas
who’ll serve as my attendants. Considering our custom, they’ll think it strange if I have none to give them.”

“Vladimir is too old to endure a prolonged wait,” Anna responded, rejecting her ward’s arguments with a casual wave of a thin hand. “You’ll have to be satisfied with the time you’ve been granted, Synnovea. Besides, if that Englishman’s plans are to be thwarted, we must proceed with all possible haste.”

Even as Synnovea sought to blink gathering tears from her eyes, they seemed to well up within her spirit. The Taraslovs had spitefully laid out her future, and she had no recourse but to accept their dictates. She wouldn’t even be allowed enough time to enjoy the usual celebrations and festivities associated with a betrothal or a forthcoming marriage.

Stoically Anna strolled to the front windows and gazed out upon the thoroughfare. Mulling over the previous night’s events, she watched coaches pass at a brisk pace and boyars riding steeds still frisky from the early-morning chill. Even after the departure of their guests, she had still been hopeful of Ivan’s ability to recoup the ground he had lost among the more influential boyars. His ambition to become ensconced in Vladimir’s chapel wasn’t nearly as important to Ivan as gaining support for his recommendation that a second advisor be appointed to assist in counseling the tsar, a position for which he intended to offer his own qualifications. Certainly in the days and weeks ahead, she had thought, the boyars would come to understand the wisdom of what Ivan was suggesting.

Her heart had even quickened with optimism when Aleksei had entered her bedchambers and, with his usual persuasiveness, demonstrated a husbandly passion. In the glowing aftermath of her bliss, she had lain in his arms, feeling thoroughly content with the world, but those softer emotions were completely sundered by a raging need to seek retribution when Aleksei voiced complaints about Synnovea accosting him before the soiree. Suddenly his suggestion that they consider Vladimir’s proposal of marriage had seemed acceptable. Not only would Synnovea be out of their house and away from Aleksei, but she’d likely be utterly miserable married to the old prince. However, in agreeing to the nuptials, Anna had also realized that she would be destroying any hope of Vladimir funding Ivan’s rise to power, thereby frustrating her own aspirations to share in the benefits of that authority.

“Natasha begged me to let you stay with her while I’m away,” Anna announced blandly over her shoulder. “I was certain you’d agree and have given my consent. I’m sure Natasha will be delighted to help you prepare for your wedding.”

“There’s not enough time to consider even a few frivolities, much less see anything actually accomplished,” Synnovea rejoined dismally.

Outwardly Anna ignored her charge’s lackluster statement, but inwardly she smiled in contentment. By dictating the events in Synnovea’s life, she had clearly demonstrated the power she wielded over the young countess. The forthcoming evening would serve to intensify the girl’s awareness of that fact. “Prince Vladimir has invited us to dine with him this evening to discuss preparations for your betrothal and forthcoming marriage. I’ve assured him that you’ll be joining us.”

“How kind of you.”

Detecting a break in the other’s voice, Anna smirked, feeling totally gratified by the girl’s distress. “You may be relieved to know that Ivan is busy preparing for our departure and won’t have time for your lessons today, Synnovea. He’s convinced that you deliberately set out to thwart his plans to become Vladimir’s priestly mentor and is extremely annoyed with you. If I were you, I’d avail myself of the opportunity to make amends with him ere we meet with your intended tonight. ’Twill help the evening pass more congenially inasmuch as I’ve granted the cleric permission to accompany us. It may be his last chance to redirect the old boyar’s attention toward a more admirable goal instead of appeasing his rutting instincts with you.”

“I wish Ivan good fortune in his endeavors,” Synnovea responded with morose sincerity. “I wouldn’t fret in the least if he managed to turn Vladimir’s attention away from me.”

Anna turned in a guise of surprise. “Why, Synnovea! Can it be that you’re upset by the idea of your betrothal…?”

“You said I’d be allowed to stay with Natasha during your absence,” Synnovea interrupted, fully cognizant of the woman’s smug satisfaction. “When may I anticipate my departure?”

Anna offered a blase shrug. “In the morning…
if
you really desire to leave.”

Synnovea wondered what tedious insinuation the princess was alluding to now. “Why should I not? If I’d been sent to a monastery, I doubt that my freedom could have been curtailed any more than it has been here.”

Anna’s lips drew up in a disdaining sneer. “No doubt, under your father’s authority, you had many admirers visiting your home in Nizhni Novgorod and indulged in liberties that would shock most
boyarinas.
Your conduct here has certainly demonstrated your license with men. I’ve no doubt that if you had received some kind of encouragement from Aleksei, you’d have found cause to stay here during my absence.”

Synnovea grew visibly incensed by the woman’s suggestion. “Forgive me, Anna, but I wouldn’t
dream
of compromising my reputation by staying here with that…” The word
debaucher
was on the tip of her tongue, but upon recalling that Ali was listening to everything that was being said, she refrained from calling the wily fox what he definitely was simply to save herself the ordeal of having to later explain her choice of appellations to the old servant. She smiled crisply as she corrected herself. “I mean, with Aleksei.”

The gray eyes were hostile above a sneering turn of thin lips. “No, of course not. You wouldn’t do
anything
unseemly behind my back.”

Synnovea canted her head as she tried to understand the rationale behind the other woman’s disdain. “Have I offended you so much by attracting Vladimir’s attention, Anna? Or is there another reason for your resentment?”

Anna strolled away, deeming it wise to avoid a discussion that would lead them into an ugly fray. Already she yearned to claw those green-brown eyes from their sockets. If she
really
unleashed her hostility upon the girl, no telling what she’d be tempted to do. A violent confrontation would only detract from her elevated authority, through which she had intended to seek retribution.

“Just think of it, Synnovea. In a thrice of weeks you’ll be Vladimir’s bride,” Anna prodded shrewishly. “It should please you to know that you’ll be marrying such a wealthy boyar. You’ll probably be able to wheedle whatever you desire from the old wolfhound.” Her lips curved briefly in a dull smile as she considered the girl. “But then, I haven’t really noticed any inclination on your part to limit your self-indulgence. Your gowns and jewels readily demonstrate your enormous greed. Still, as Vladimir’s wife, you’ll be far richer than you are now. That fact should lend you some comfort when it comes time for you to endure his awkward attempts in bed. Though I’ve heard rumors that he’s still capable of mounting a maid, it doesn’t promise to be the most enjoyable experience for you, not like it would be if you were to wed a younger man, especially someone as accomplished with women as Colonel Rycroft.”