38
The return to Cardinia seemed to take no time at all, but then, Alexandra was so sunk in her unhappiness that she barely noticed the passing of time.
On the ship, she spent the entire week near a bucket, feeling half dead.
She supposed she was fortunate, though, considering the stories she’d heard from other pregnant women, that during the sea voyage was the only time she was sick.
Once she was back on land, her health bloomed. In fact, she’d never felt better—physically. She didn’t even catch the colds and coughs that the rest of her companions were suffering as they traveled through the worst part of winter, plagued by snow or freezing winds.
Her spirits picked up only when they were nearing Cardinia and she realized she would soon be back with her horses. It was then that she began to notice the unusual looks she was getting from Vasili, as if he might be regretting something. She could just imagine what.
However, he had told her earlier in the journey that he would give her time to get used to the fact that they were getting married.
He seemed absolutely adamant about it now.
And to give her that time to adjust, he had apparently decided that keeping their conversations down to a minimum would help.
After all, it was a rare occasion when they could talk and not have their words progress into a heated exchange.
One time in particular should have been the argument of the century, the first time they came to an inn and ended up dining together.
Alexandra had already decided there was no point in continuing her rustic ruse.
It had never worked on Vasili anyway. And now that she was resigned to marrying him—just for the baby’s sake—she was done with schemes to try to get out of it.
Vasili had raised his brows dubiously at the dresses she continued to wear since leaving England, though he didn’t ask again if she had her britches on beneath them.
But the night they sat at the same table, and he observed her normal eating habits for the first time, she thought he was going to go into shock.
Yet it didn’t take long before his eyes had narrowed on her. “So all those horrid, disgusting manners were only for my benefit?” he guessed.
She didn’t try to prevaricate, but answered simply, “Of course.”
“The swearing?”
“I had help—and improvised.”
“Your skill with a whip wasn’t faked.”
“Konrad taught me when we were children.”
“And the threats you gave my women?”
She shrugged. “Sorry, but those were genuine. I never have been able to share what’s mine.”
He actually grinned at that point before telling her, “I’ve discovered I won’t either, at least not where you’re concerned.”
She didn’t take that declaration seriously. And she figured he had realized that he couldn’t get angry over what she’d done to fool him because he had done the very same thing.
Tanya Barony had warned her, but she herself had been treated to Vasili’s true character on the return trip for the proof of it. No more taunting, derisive remarks. No more contemptuous looks. And too many sensuous smiles for her heart to handle with any degree of indifference.
He was getting to her without even trying, and that frightened her.
She could just imagine how painful it was going to be when he got around to ignoring her, and that would happen as soon as he figured out that she was already carrying his desired heir, which wouldn’t be much longer.
It also hurt her even more to discover that he really was likable when he wasn’t deliberately trying to be otherwise, just as Tanya had claimed.
If she could only hate him, she could get through marriage to him with ease. But that wasn’t the case, was so far from it that it was laughable. And too many times she came close to setting aside her pride and begging for his affection—at the very least, for his body.
It was deplorable how often those carnal feelings were assailing her these days.
And she hoped that she would be married before her condition was discovered, because she was determined to have her wedding night, which was probably going to be the only night with him she would get.
She would demand it, in fact, if necessary, because Vasili owed her that much after introducing her to the pleasures of the body, then leaving her yearning for more.
It was raining the day they arrived in the royal city of Cardinia.
Vasili and Lazar had chosen to join her in the carriage when it started.
Vasili had supplied the vehicle for her three weeks ago, when he’d seen her leave the ship in a dress rather than her britches.
She had been brooding too much at the time even to be aware that her dress wasn’t suitable for riding.
But she hadn’t objected to the carriage, or that, because of it, she wasn’t supplied with a horse to do some riding.
She wasn’t sure that she should ride anymore, now that she was two and a half months into her pregnancy.
Until a doctor could advise her on the matter, she preferred not to take any chances, no matter how much she might miss her daily rides.
Vasili had waited until the last minute, until they’d actually entered the city, to tell Alexandra she would be staying with his mother again.
The way he said it led her to believe he was expecting an argument.
She didn’t give him one, despite the fact that she was dreading facing the countess again.
She supposed she owed the lady an apology. She would have seen to it when they arrived, and Maria met them no sooner than they had walked in the door, except Vasili had some things to say to his mother that momentarily surprised Alexandra.
“So you found her,” Maria began.
“I told you I would, Mother. And since we will be married tomorrow, Alexandra will be staying here only tonight. But kindly do me the favor of not mentioning her previous behavior to her. It was all a pretense anyway, so you can stop worrying that—”
“Yes, yes, I know all about that,” Maria cut in, surprising both him and Alexandra.
“How?” Vasili asked.
“Her father arrived not long after you left. He explained that although she is a trifle unconventional in certain areas—her horses, for one—she is every bit the lady we were expecting her to be. I was, of course, quite shocked. So was the baron when I related—”
“Let’s not discuss it, Mother, if you don’t mind. Did he return to Russia?”
“With his daughter missing?” she replied, her tone implying he should know parents weren’t that cavalier. “He was going to go after her himself, until I assured him that you would bring her back. Of course, I offered him my hospitality.”
“He’s here?”
“Yes, upstairs, and you might as well know, Vasili, he confessed that there never was a…”
Alexandra didn’t hear any more. She’d started backing up the moment Vasili’s mother had mentioned her father, and soon she was out the door, heading for the stable. How could her father show up here after what he’d done to her? How could he pretend to care what—
“Alex, where do you think you’re going?”
Vasili had halted her with a gentle hand on her arm, but she kept her face averted from him until she could swipe at her eyes. She didn’t want him to see the tears she’d been unable to hold back.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just know I don’t want to see my father—ever again.”
Was that relief she heard in his sigh? “Then you won’t have to. I’ll take you to the queen. She’ll keep you secluded until the wedding; then afterward, we’ll retire to one of my country estates. But…might I ask why you don’t want to see him?”
She was too upset to appreciate how helpful he was being, or to consider how he might take her answer. “Because he could have ended the betrothal before we even met, but he didn’t. The hell we’ve put each other through is his fault, and I’m not forgiving him for that.”
A few moments passed before he asked, “Alex, if he broke the betrothal now, would your word still stand?”
“Since I promised to marry you unless you cried off, I suppose it would.”
“Even if there was no betrothal contract?”
She frowned up at him. “What kind of question is that?”
“A silly one, I suppose, but actually, it’s related to something I’ve been meaning to do. I want to officially ask you to marry me.”
The thrill of pleasure she experienced felt strange next to her pain, and was no more welcome. “You know that isn’t necessary.”
“Humor me, Alex, please. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Will you give me your word?”
“You’re pushing it, Petroff—”
“Please.”
“All right, you have it, though it’s the last time I’m promising anyone—”
He was kissing her before she’d finished, and Alexandra forgot what she’d gotten huffy about. When he let her go, she was breathless and not a little confused.
“What was that for?”
He grinned at her. “To thank you, because I was pushing it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Next time, just say the words, Petroff.”