Chapter 32 Jahleel—The Secret Place
JAHLEEL—THE SECRET PLACE
Katherine looks stunned. She points to the room as I drink a second cup of tea. The weedy-herbaceous flavor has grown on me, but it pales in comparison to the taste vindication—the presence of a slightly erratic, jealous Katherine.
“You’ve hidden in here before, Jahleel?”
“Da.”
“You made me think I was crazy, but you were in there.”
I grin and down the last drop. “My great sin, I suppose, is a secret room I didn’t tell you about. And what do you do when alone? You, my dear viscountess, touched my chess set without asking. I suppose two wrongs make us equal.”
Her reddening countenance whips back to me. “The movement of the piece was to be a sign. I wanted to show you I surrender. Why else would I make such a foolish move?”
She slips a hand to her hip. The emerald fabric swings. “I wanted peace with you.”
The woman straightens but still faces the room. Then she kicks off her shoes like she’s about to walk on hallowed ground. “I’m going in.”
Barefoot, she gets my full attention and my blood pumping. “I tell Lydia to wear her stockings. This is not a good example.”
“I’m not a child.” She peers at me, then takes a step. “Upstairs is the Winter Palace. But this must be the dacha by the river. I remember, shoes off.”
I sort of made up that rule because I like her feet. “Maybe we should stay out here, and you can tell me why you touched my chess set. This move is sloppy.”
Those elegant feet flap along the polished floorboards as Katherine returns to my desk.
She takes up her knight and puts it on G6.
“Your king is on H8. And your pawns are on G7 and H7. You’re boxed in.
Cornered, with my knight on G6, you can’t move.
Checkmate. That means you lose, and I win.
Thus, the sloppy move, as you put it, was so that we both would win. ”
She puts down the piece. “Now get up and show me your secret room.”
I’m stunned—the orders, the brilliant chess moves, the tears in her voice as she commands me.
“A full tour, Jahleel, like you did at the dacha. I want to know all the secrets.”
My head cocks, and I glance at my mistress prancing around with bare, delicious feet. “There are no ryas in there.”
She steps up onto my boots. “If you won’t name any mistresses or admit to not taking one, distract me with this room.”
Toes wriggling, looking so perfect and touchable and free, I’m speechless.
“Move. Now.”
“Da.” Grabbing my cane, I stand and lead Katherine. We flee my book-lined study into a stark white room with shelves enclosed behind glass doors.
Half-drawn curtains make everything quite dark. I use the light coming from the study to guide me to the sconce. Once I light it, I close up the wall. The moving part of the bookcase slides over the opening. “And this is how I hide.”
Her arms fold, and she walks around as if measuring the walls.
I’m hypnotized by how freely she moves. She’s on her tiptoes, dancing about.
“I don’t remember anything like this at the dacha.” Then she gets to the bookcases and touches the door. But this is similar to the one we had in our bedchamber. “Just like the dacha. I knew it.”
“Well, it’s the room that is perfect for Carew and Scarlett to perform the cupping procedure on Mr. Thom.”
Two tables stand before us, very close to the sconce. One is draped in cloth, and the other has needles and other tools. She smooths the bare sheet. “Fresh linen. I suppose this is where the patient will lie.”
“I’ll demonstrate.” I hand her my cane and then stretch out on the table with my arms crossed. “Even scented with rosemary. My laundress has gotten very good, since you told her I like spices.”
“That maid is kind. She listens.”
I don’t like the sound of that. “Another problem that I’m not man enough to fix.”
With a groan, she opens a curtain and light dumps in. “As the woman of the house I should be able to handle domestic things. But I’m not your woman, am I?”
Ignore. Ignore. Don’t lust after those high arches. “Katherine, this room is perfect for what Scarlett and Carew will do.”
“Thom will be in a great position.” Katherine’s back is to me as she stands at the window.
Sunlight and the glow of the sconces highlight her figure and wonderful olive skin.
“My sisters, both of them, are wonderful. But Scarlett did this with her research. She’s a woman fighting for the things she believes in. I envy her.”
“Well, she is Mamen’ka’s favorite.”
Arms folded, she turns to me. “Jahleel?”
“The cupping procedure is her research, but the Carews together will do the surgery.”
“Thom’s not worried. Those tools look sharp.”
“His cataracts are so progressed he loses nothing if it doesn’t work. But the chance to see colors or the curve of a woman’s hip is worth it. I’d be happy with that.”
She spins to me with flushed with ripe red cheeks. “Do you have cataracts?”
“No. Breathe, Katia. I have my sight.” I rotate away, not wanting to witness her desire turn to pity. “I see fine.”
“Jahleel, look at me and tell me the truth. Let this room be only filled with truth.”
“Fine. Watching you fill with fear is something I hate. Reminds me of the day my sister recovered, and you left me. You provoked that fight instead of telling me the truth.”
“I was wrong to do so. If I could turn back time …”
“You’d walk away from the ball. No dance. No kiss near the death flowers in the Winter Palace’s gardens. No us or Lydia or Andrew. I understand. Finally, I do.”
She bites that gorgeous bottom lip of hers. Then she steps closer. “Did Georgie tell you this?”
“Didn’t have to. That secret was obvious. My pride has tried to ignore that you’re prejudiced about sickness, and that’s something I cannot change.”
She holds out her hand and helps me sit up. “Well, your next bride already knows, thanks to your honesty in the parlor.”
“True. And if I had known or even believed that this would be my destiny, I would’ve confessed all, then kissed you. Maybe knowing that I already loved you the moment we met would’ve made a difference.”
From the tears in those jet eyes, I know that it wouldn’t. My love is pain to Katia. That’s the secret I can’t escape.