Page 62 of You Belong to Me
She didn’t want to be in Cardinia either, yet here she was, soon to be married. Whenwould the wedding take place? She didn’t even know that. In days, or a week? No matter when, it was going to be too soon for her. And whatever delays she came up with wouldn’t last for long.
One of those delays was more than likely going to be legitimate, because she was actually making herself sick, worrying about it. Or was it nervousness over meeting Vasili’s mother? If that lady welcomed her with open arms, she’d probably puke all over her.
Alexandra shuddered, imagining it, and decided that the meeting, at least, could be delayed right now with a little detour. With that objective in mind, she moved Sultan’s Pride up beside Vasili’s roan.
“Do you live with your mother, Petroff?”
He looked surprised, which was feigned, she was sure. “You’re speaking to me again?”
She could play that game. “You actually noticed that I wasn’t?”
He gave up too quickly, sighing. “I wish I hadn’t noticed that you are again.”
“My question?”
“No, I don’t live with her.”
“Then show me where you live.”
This time he looked genuinely surprised. “Now?”
“Certainly now.”
He thought of Fatima and her exuberant welcomes whenever he had been away for even a short time, and shook his head. “It’s a bachelor residence. It wouldn’t be proper to take you there before we’re married.”
Being told no only made Alexandra more determined. “If you were worried about ‘proper,’ you wouldn’t be marrying me. Show me your house or I’ll camp right here in the street.”
“That will get you arrested.”
“Really?” she asked with interest. “You think I wouldn’t prefer a jail cell—”
He was getting angry. “How about a dungeon cell? That can be arranged.”
Cardinia didn’t happen to have any dungeons, but at the moment, Vasili was thinking about having one built just for her. And she was beginning to get suspicious of the prevaricating he was doing over a simple little request.
“Is there something about your house you don’t want me to know?”
“I merely have a great many things to do today, now that I’m home, and they don’t include giving you a guided tour—”
“Fine!” she cut in sharply. “Then I’ll view it some other day, when you’re not around to be bothered. I’m sure someone at your mother’s house can direct me.”
Any one of his mother’s servants could do just that, and nothing might happen if Alexandra showed up at his house when he wasn’t there. Then again, she had threatened to cut off too many ears for him to take the chance.
“Are you always going to be this difficult?” he asked, not trying to hide his vexation.
She gave him a tight little smile. “For you, Petroff, I will certainly try.”
“Then by all means, welcome to my humble abode,” he said dryly, and his extended arm indicated the house they had just passed.
She gave him a sour look at that point. “This was really going to takesomuch of your time, wasn’t it?” she said with frosty sarcasm, and turned her mount toward the not-so-humble town house.
Vasili didn’t answer. He was shouting at Lazar, who had ridden up ahead, to continue with the wagons and the horses. When Alexandra realized she was going to be left there alone with him, she nearly changed her mind. But the large, three-story house undoubtedly contained servants. Anyone who claimed to be as wealthy as Vasili wouldn’t dismiss his retainers just because he was going to be gone for a month or two.
And she was proven correct when he joined her at the front door and knocked for entrance. While they waited, she sensed that he was more than just annoyed about her putting him to this bother. He seemed…nervous? Was he actually worried about what she would think of his home?
Highly doubtful. She must be imagining it, and what did she care anyway? She was too disappointed that his house had been so close and that visiting it wouldn’t take as much time as she had hoped it would. Her despondency was returning, and with it, some self-defensive apathy. What difference did it makeif his mother didn’t like her? What did it matter if her father was mortified when he learned of her behavior? So what if Christopher would be lost to her if this marriage took place?
The door opened, and Vasili was being greeted by a crusty-voiced servant who surprised Alexandra by his very size. He was the tallest, largest man she’d ever encountered, a giant, really, and ancient, with white hair and wrinkles. By the look of him, he should have been retired twenty or thirty years ago. He was certainly too old to be a butler, which he apparently was since he began directing several waiting footmen, including sending one out to see to the horses. But she had to allow that in his day he must have had no problem keeping out unwanted visitors—What was she thinking? He still wouldn’t have any problem.
