Page 47 of You Belong to Me
Vasili covered his eyes with his hand, groaning inwardly. What the hell was he doing? He had Pavel sitting across from him, two of his men on either side of him, one of the village women moving around behind them, filling mugs with ale and congratulating the locals on their bravery and cunning. And what was he doing instead of listening for a piece of information he could use to his advantage?
The only thing of interest that he’d heard so far was that the bandits hadn’t just stumbled across his party, as might be supposed, but had known about the travelers and the horses well in advance. Apparently they had men in their pay who lived in the village on the otherside of the mountain, where Vasili’s group had taken shelter the previous night.
It was an ideal arrangement that kept the bandits informed whenever a rich party was crossing the mountains. Shortcuts connected the two villages in a matter of hours. And today, the storm had merely been an added boon, allowing them to take what they wanted without a confrontation.
“What is she to you?”
Alexandra was suddenly looking straight at Vasili, proving she’d been listening to every word even if he hadn’t been. But he wasn’t going to make the mistake of giving an inflammatory answer in Russian again. She was too unpredictable. He couldn’t depend on her to help them get out of this mess she had gotten them into. Make her angry, and she’d just as soon attack him as the bandits.
So Vasili switched to Cardinian to say, “Her father gave her to me. I’ve decided to amuse myself with her for a while.”
The look Alexandra gave him before her eyes returned to her food said she didn’t appreciate one little bit being excluded from that answer. Vasili was relieved. There had been the possibility that she might know Cardinian. It hadn’t been likely, but it was possible.
“And you amuse yourself by beating her?”
Pavel was sticking with Russian, deliberately to discomfit Vasili, he didn’t doubt. And Alexandra’s head had snapped back up. Vasili could try again in Cardinian, he supposed,but as Pavel had already given the wrong impression with that question, the odds were he’d do the same again, so Vasili might as well stick with Russian. If Alexandra was going to be foolish enough to draw attention to herself with an interruption, it would be her own fault.
Vasili’s golden eyes settled on Pavel and stayed there, refusing to look in Alexandra’s direction again. “I believe my earlier words were that no one hits her except me. I don’t find amusement in that, merely necessity. She does so often deserve it, after all.”
“But you mean to keep her, eh?”
“I’m not bored yet, so yes, for a little while longer I’ll keep her. But during that time she remains mine exclusively—or I lose interest.”
Pavel’s shrug said he understood perfectly. Used goods lost their value. And now they could get down to the business at hand.
“Fifty rubles, no more,” Vasili offered, and his expression implied that he was being generous. Then he sat back, lifting one arm over the back of his chair. “Wasn’t that the price Stefan had to pay to get Arina back that time?”
It was a calculated risk, bringing Arina into the conversation. But he’d already guessed that the woman serving them was Pavel’s woman, simply by the expressions passing between them, and because the other men kept their hands off her. Pavel could either explode with jealousy as he usually did whenever Arina was mentioned, orquickly get the subject of women out of the way, since his own was listening.
“You would compare Latzko’s daughter with this peasant?” he demanded, waving a hand toward Alexandra.
Indignation? Vasili couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. “You’re right, of course. What would you suggest, then? Twenty-five?”
“Forty-five,” Pavel replied, obviously having realized his mistake.
“I suppose that keeps anyone from being insulted,” Vasili remarked dryly.Except for Alexandra. “Agreed, and by the way, who is Anna marrying?”
Pavel spit on the floor before he said in disgust, “She got tired of her Austrian duke and took up with a count. He’s crazy enough to marry her.”
Vasili knew he shouldn’t, but he simply couldn’t resist rubbing it in a little. “Latzko must be pleased to have a count in the family.”
“Latzko just wants her married,” Pavel half growled, half mumbled. “He don’t care to who. Now for you, Count Petroff. I know my good friend Stefan will pay plenty for you. The horses, of course, I keep for myself. But you—”
“Horses like that would be useless in these mountains and you know it, Pavel. I’ll give you three hundred for the lot of them.”
Pavel laughed. “You think I don’t know horses that fine are for your cousin? If hewants them, he’ll have to pay the price I ask, or I keep them.”
Vasili couldn’t imagine wherethatnotion had come from, but he’d have to disabuse him of it quickly or he’d never get the horses back. “They happen to be a gift to me from my betrothed. Stefan doesn’t even like whites. He calls them bloodless, temperamental creatures, not worth the effort to feed them. Having traveled with them, I’m inclined to agree, though I may still start a breeding farm with them, as I had planned to do. However, since they cost me nothing, I really don’t care one way or the other. Three hundred rubles for the lot, and not a ruble more.”
“One thousand rubles each, and not a ruble less,” Pavel countered belligerently.
Vasili could feel Alexandra’s midnight eyes slicing into him like daggers. He’d just insulted her “babies.” He was surprised she hadn’t thrown her plate at him. And he wasn’t finished.
“Absolutely ridiculous,” he said in his most derisive tone. “If you can’t be serious, then we have nothing further to discuss.”
“It is Stefan who will pay, aristo,” Pavel replied confidently. “As for what he will pay for you, five thousand rubles, I think—no, ten thousand.”
“You’re crazy.”
