Forever in Your Embrace (78 page)

“I am, but you must hurry…”

Her feet were flying now, merely a vague blur on the stairs, going deeper, deeper into the manse. Finally she burst through a portal, her breath snared in her throat. She had no idea what she might find. Then she came to a stumbling halt—and stared agape.

From the middle of the pool Tyrone grinned back at her. Throwing aside a long, flared instrument that Natasha sometimes used in calling her servants from afar, he lifted a hand to beckon her forward. “Come join me, madam. I’m feeling in rare good form tonight and think we ought to consider appeasing your petition.”

“What petition is that, Sir Knight?” Synnovea questioned, stripping away the veil that covered her hair and hurriedly loosening the silken closures of the sarafan she wore.

“I’ve decided, madam, that we should seriously consider the possibility of further involvement….”

“Indeed, sir?” The corner of her lips lifted in a tantalizing smile as she shrugged the silken sarafan from her shoulders and wiggled out of it, aiding its descent to the floor. She made haste to doff the light gown she wore beneath before asking in guileful innocence, “How can we be more involved than we are already?”

Tyrone debated her question only briefly. “I was struck by Ladislaus’s infatuation with his son and was of the mind to think that we should prove our love by a similar offering to the world.”

“I barely know you, sir,” Synnovea teased, loosening the heavy braids that held her hair confined.

“Then come, madam, and I will make you acquainted with what I have in mind. You see, I’m most eager to share the bliss of our connubial bond with you.”

Synnovea chuckled softly. “That sounds strangely like a lecherous invitation to me, Sir Knight.”

“ ’Tis a most honest invitation, madam, I assure you. Indeed, I’ve never been more earnest in my entire life.”

“Earnest about instructing me? Or earnest about making a baby together?”

“Both, madam, both! Just come into my arms and let me show you how sincere I am.”

Draping her stockings over a bench, Synnovea descended the steps of the pool totally bereft of clothing. She felt her husband’s gaze devouring all the sights and, with a smile, swam across to where he awaited her with open arms. Lifting her up against him, Tyrone enfolded her within his embrace and met her loving gaze with warmly glowing blue eyes.

“Now I no longer have to be concerned about some infatuated brigand or lecher trying to steal you away from me, madam. My fears have been completely set aside by the prudence of one to change his life and by another’s decision to end his.” Tyrone took advantage of the startled gasp that parted her lips by hungrily covering them with his mouth. After a long, thoroughly provocative kiss, he readjusted her slippery wet body to fit more intimately with his unyielding flesh and continued in a softly hushed voice, thoroughly stimulated by the sensuality of their embrace. “Aye, madam, we need not fear Aleksei ever again or be afraid that Ladislaus will lose sight of his love for Alyona and his son. Now that he has been granted a pardon and the promise of a yearly stipend from the tsar to patrol our borders and keep them safe, ’tis doubtful that we’ll ever see him again. Even Anna has been stripped of the possessions and esteem from which, as the tsar’s cousin, she might have once profited. She has been ordered to return to the house of her parents, where she will be placed under their authority and supervision. What becomes of her will be left entirely to their discretion. Any disturbance she might cause in their house will be subject to review by the tsar, who might then be tempted to seek recourse. ’Tis her punishment for not having had the wisdom to discern what Ivan was about, since so many boyars have said that it should have been obvious to the princess more than anybody, considering how devoted she was to the man.”

“Amazing how things have worked out,” Synnovea breathed beneath her husband’s warmly caressing lips. “It seems now that the only uncertainty we’ll have to contend with is whether Ladislaus will remain true to his word or not. I hate to think of you going out after him again. Indeed, husband, I am loath to think of you leaving me at all.”

“There may be less chance of that from now on, madam. The tsar has requested the immediate departure of General Vanderhout and his wife from Russian soil and has asked me to be the commander of the foreign-led division in Vanderhout’s stead, which means, my love, a promotion to brigadier general.”

Synnovea gave a gleeful cry and tightened her arms around his neck. Holding her close, Tyrone laughed, immeasurably pleased that she was his and that he wouldn’t have to leave her but on rare occasions. Then he heaved a sigh, already regretting the fact that in years to come they wouldn’t be able to enjoy the luxury of such baths in England. But then, he could be quite determined in seeking what he wanted. Once he returned home, he’d just have to rectify that matter.

Epilogue

The ship furled the last of its sails as it nudged against the London quay. As it did, an older man alighted from a large coach, which had been waiting alongside the cobbled wharf, and turned to lend assistance to a tall, slender woman several years younger than he. Her artfully arranged tresses, once a tawny hue, had paled with the passage of years and now shone with a luster of creamy satin. Another stately garbed woman, at least a score or so years older, was also handed down. As the gangplank was lowered to the dock and passengers began to descend, the three moved forward eagerly, searching for a face they had not seen in several years.

Aboard ship, passengers were still emerging from the companionway. A tall man carrying a towheaded youngster of an age about two years stepped into the mists that swept over the ship’s decking and the River Thames. Standing aside, he held the door open for a slender, dark-haired woman, who paused for a moment to fold a blanket over the face of a small infant nestled within the crook of her arm before accepting her escort’s proffered assistance. Behind her came a tiny, black-garbed, bonneted maidservant who toted a sizable valise filled with blankets and clothes for the children. The younger of the two women turned to the tawny-haired man with a worried question, and in quick response he smiled and slipped an arm about her shoulders.

“Don’t fret, madam. My family will love you almost as much as I do. How can they not when you’ve gifted them with two wonderful grandchildren?”

His hand descended to the small of her back and rested there as he escorted her toward the gangplank. As they waited for others to descend, he drew her to the rail, where he searched the wharf for a familiar face.

“Tyre! Tyre!” the elderly woman cried through tears of joy as she hurried forward and lifted an arm to gain his attention.

Eagerly waving back, Tyrone called down to her. “Grand-mere! I see you got my letter. I wasn’t sure you would and wondered if anyone would be here to greet us.”

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, my son,” the older man called back as he joined the elder. “We’ve been counting the days and watching every ship that passed until we finally espied one bearing a Russian flag. Hurry down! We want to meet our grandchildren.”

Tyrone leaned his head near the boy’s as he pointed toward the one who had just spoken. “Look, Alexander. That’s your Grandfather Trevor.”

The youngster’s blue eyes moved curiously from his father to the three who vied for his attention on the dock. “‘Gran’pa?”

“Alexander…Alexander, look this way, darling,” the pale-haired woman coaxed excitedly.

Tyrone waved to the woman and then informed his son, “That’s your Grandmother.”

Sticking the tip of his finger into his mouth, the little boy peered up at his father again. “Gran’ma?”

Tyrone laughed, sure the little tike was already becoming confused by this small assortment of strangers. “That’s right, Grandmother Elianna.”

With the small, but now wet digit, the youngster pointed toward the baby his mother carried and proudly announced to his grandmother, “Tat’s my baby sistah.”

The boy’s pronunciations drew another amused chuckle from his father. “Can you tell your grandparents your sister’s name?”

“Catha,” Alexander announced proudly to the three and wrinkled his nose as he giggled.

“Catha?” his grandmother queried in a sudden quandary. Word of the baby’s birth hadn’t reached them, only the fact that Synnovea would probably be delivering before they left Russia. “What kind of name is that?”

“Catharina Natasha,” Tyrone corrected with a chuckle. “Alex is still a bit stymied by the pronunciations.”

“Oh, that’s much prettier,” Elianna Rycroft declared, laughing in relief. “Do hurry, Ty, and bring your family down for us all to meet, dear.”

“I will, Mother, just as soon as we can make our way to the gangplank,” Tyrone assured her. Bending near Synnovea, he drew away a corner of the blanket to lovingly peruse the tiny, angelic face cuddled against his wife’s breast. “She’s not going to like being awakened by all her adoring grandparents.”

“Maybe not, but ye can expect the li’l darlin’ will be wantin’ ta be fed as soon as she can,” Ali chimed in from close behind them. “It’s gettin’ time.”

Synnovea smoothed the fine, dark hair of the newborn, whose eyelids flicked briefly at her touch. “She appears quite content right now, Ali. Perhaps she’ll sleep long enough for us to get through the introductions and reach a private spot.”

“She’s a good li’l girl, just like ye were,” Ali eagerly lauded.

“Come, my love,” Tyrone urged his wife, seeing the path opening up ahead of them. “My family is anxious to meet you and our children. I’m sure you can nurse Catharina in one of my parent’s bedrooms while we visit with them for a few hours. Then I’ll take you to our home where we can get the children settled.”

As his arm gathered her close, Synnovea dropped her head lovingly upon his shoulder, telling herself that she had no reason to be nervous about the forthcoming meeting with his parents. Her husband’s lips brushed a kiss upon her brow, and the softly murmured words “I love you” banished her trepidations and filled her heart with joy. Upon straightening, Tyrone escorted his family with great pride and care down the plank.

Elianna hurried toward them with arms held wide as they stepped from the planking. “My son! My son! It’s so good to have you back! We’ve missed you so much!”

The Rycrofts clasped their arms around each other with great displays of affection before Tyrone stepped back and eagerly made the introductions. Bringing Synnovea close to his side, he gave them an ebullient smile. “Father, Mother, Grand-mere Meghan, I’d like you to meet my wife, Synnovea. This is our maid, Ali McCabe, and our two children, Alexander and baby Catharina. They’re named after Synnovea’s father and our close friend, Princess Natasha Catharina Zherkovna, who’ll be visiting us this summer with her husband and another close friend of mine, Major Grigori Tverskoy, and his bride, Tania.”

Meghan drew the youngster from his father’s arms and whispered a secret in his ear, drawing a giggle from the boy, who then pointed at his father.

“Horse! Papa!”

Tyrone grinned down at his grandmother. “Aye, I’ve already taught him to sit a horse in front of me, so perhaps your desire to see him ride with the best will eventually come to fruition.”