She didn’t rise to the bait, and Stefan said quickly, “Neither is necessary. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Alexandra. My wife is even more eager and has invited you to come to the palace this afternoon.”
“I’ll be bus—”
“She’ll be there,” Vasili cut in, and his look was full of warning for her not to contradict him.
She didn’t bother, though she had no intention of complying. It would be too embarrassing to maintain her rustic ruse at the Cardinian court. Besides, just as she had held herself aloof from his friends on the trip, she intended to maintain a distance from his royal relatives. At least she would try. But she wasn’t crazy. She had as much healthy wariness for royalty as anyone with any sense did. And King Stefan of Cardinia, with those scars on his cheek and his golden eyes, which were so much more prominent than Vasili’s, would have intimidated her even if he weren’t a king. The less she had to do with him and his wife, the better.
He must have sensed her wariness, or was so accustomed to inspiring it that he had made it a habit to keep introductions brief. He took her hand—he had to lift it from her pocket—and kissed the knuckles, saying, “It is my hope that I will soon welcome you to the family, Alexandra. But now I must return to the palace, though I would like to view your stallions first. I assume they have returned with you?”
She merely nodded, and with a parting smile, Stefan headed outside to where the stallions were being walked after their brisk ride. She stared after him, uncomfortable with the feeling that she could like him if she let herself. It took her a moment to realize that Vasili hadn’t followed him out.
She wished that weren’t the case. She wasn’t at all happy with him at the moment, though when had she ever been? But now she was confused by what she’d overheard. He’d lied about intending to sell her horses. He’d concealed from her his admiration for them, and that he was as much a connoisseur of fine horseflesh as Lazar was. Had he guessed that it would raise him in her estimation if she’d known, that she could never hate anyone who loved horses as much as she did?
She wasn’t going to mention what she’d heard. She needed time to figure out his motives for deceiving her. And she had to wonder what else about him wasn’t true. Even hearing him call her “my Alex,” which was what had stopped her in her approach, made no sense to her, and she was alarmed by the thrilling pleasure it had given her.
Refusing to examine her feelings for him, she could only conclude that it had been so much easier when she had been able to hold him in complete contempt.
“You’ll have to dig out one of those dresses you claim to have for this afternoon,” he told her.
“No, I won’t. Convey my apologies—”
“You’re going, Alex. You don’t refuse an invitation from a queen any more than you would one from a king. Even you have to know that.”
Again she didn’t rise to the bait, which his condescending tone only made more tempting. “Your mother is determined to monopolize my mornings with nonsense, Petroff, leaving me no time to waste on visiting. You can tell that to your queen.”
“I’ll tell her no such thing. Did you lose your temper with my mother?”
“No, I was kind enough to humor her, though I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep my patience. For now, she thinks she made some progress.”
“Did she?”
Alexandra snorted. “What do you think?”
He grinned at her. “I think you will do what you want, despite well-meaning advice—except for today. Be ready and dressed appropriately,Alex, by two o’clock. I’ll pick you up in my carriage—”
“No—”
“Or Stefan’s soldiers can escort you.”
32
Alexandra compromised. She was ready to leave at the appointed hour, but she was dressed in her usual attire. She had an excuse for Vasili which wasn’t exactly the truth, but she was sure she could make him believe it.
And she gave it to him the moment he arrived, before his expression turned too thunderous. “It’s your fault, Petroff.” Her tone was deliberately accusatory. “Not allowing me enough time to pack properly. It’s no wonder all my gowns are ruined. Even your mother was scandalized when I told her how you rushed me into leaving with less than a day’s notice. You owe me a new wardrobe.”
That bit about her telling his mother was an underhanded tactic and it actually had him blushing. Why had he never considered that Alexandra’s frankness could extend to his own outrageous behavior on the trip? She could, if she realized it, win Maria completely over to her side, and he’d never hear the end of it if that happened. But that wasn’t whatAlexandra wanted. She had to be aware of that.
For now, he addressed only her demand for clothes. “If you were hoping I would balk at supplying you with a new wardrobe, I’ll have to disappoint you. It will be my pleasure. But for today, couldn’t my mother give you something…?” At her lifted brow, Vasili was forced to correct himself. “No, I suppose you are too dissimilar in size.” But then he snapped, “Dammit Alex, stop looking so pleased about this! It doesn’t cancel your trip to the palace, not when the queen is waiting.”
“I didn’t imagine it would.”
“Then you’re probably thinking this is going to embarrass me, but you’re wrong,” he said as he ushered her out the door. “You’re the only one who is going to feel conspicuous, dressed as you are. I happen to enjoy looking at you no matter what you’re wearing.”
Vasili hadn’t meant to say that, couldn’t imagine where it had come from. But before he put his foot further in his mouth, he dropped the subject completely. And because Alexandra had been disturbed by his remark as well, both of them were silent during their trip to the palace, which was fortunately only a few blocks away.
Alexandra had been to a reception at the Czar’s palace in St. Petersburg, but nothing could have prepared her for the opulence of the Cardinian palace. It covered an entire city square and was three stories high; the halls alone contained more solid gold in framesand statues than she’d ever imagined to see in a lifetime. Every floor was polished marble, every window adorned in rich velvet or silk, every wall lamp tiered with crystal, all in quiet elegance rather than the Russian preference for grandiose display.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the long hallways they had to traverse had been empty, but they weren’t. Besides the liveried servants standing on duty outside doorways, there were courtiers in abundance, coming and going, gathered in groups talking, all in their fancy court finery. And every single one seemed to stare rudely at Alexandra, either in avid curiosity or in outright disdain.