Natalya (28 page)

What was that sound? She sat up in bed, hands clasped over her breasts, staring at the paneled wall. She heard another tap and then a click. Before she could cry out for her father, part of the wall slid back and Grey St. James stepped out into a shaft of moonlight. Her first thought was that he looked like a dangerous pirate, bent on ravishing a defenseless maiden.

Dusting off his hands, Grey arched a brow at her and remarked, "I thought I ought to drop by to bid you a proper good night. You didn't really think that you could fob me off with that feeble, wooden scene in the dining room, did you?" His grin flashed in the shadows. "My dear Natalya, your penchant for underestimating me will one day prove your downfall."

As he approached the bed, Natalya opened her mouth to scream, but the only sound that emerged was a tiny squeak.

Chapter 18

April 28-29. 1814

"What—? How in the world—?" Natalya managed to whisper as Grey reached the side of her bed and loomed above her.

"I was in the kitchen, rousting out Speed, but he had torn his jacket and your outrageous cook, Hyla, insisted on mending it for him. While I waited, I decided to explore the passageways Kristin showed me earlier." His tone was maddeningly conversational. "When I reached the top of the hidden stairway, I saw that there was no light under your door, nor did I hear voices. Knowing you were alone, I decided to bid you good night on
my
terms."

"How did you know which bedchamber would be mine?"

"Instinct," he replied enigmatically.

When he sat down next to her, Natalya's heart began to race in earnest. "I can call my father, you know."

Grey laughed softy. He had removed his jacket, and his shirt was luminously white in the moonlight, causing his chest and shoulders to look exceedingly broad and powerful. "My dear Natalya, I thought that this sort of visit was perfectly acceptable to you. Did you not burst into
my
bedchamber and awaken me just a few nights ago?"

Her cheeks burned with mingled anger and humiliation. "Rogue! Why will you not go away and leave me in peace? What happened on board the
Rover
was a unique and isolated incident, certainly not a common practice on my part! Everything is different now—"

"According to whom?" Grey cut in coolly, his gaze sweeping over her. "I think it only fair to warn you, my sweet, that the world operates a trifle differently outside of your castle tower in France. Others may not care to have you direct them thither and yon across the stage of life, nor will they bend to the rules that you make and then alter according to the permutations of your moods."

"There is no need for you to concern yourself with my moods or character defects, sir," she hissed. "I thought that I would never see you again after we docked this morning. I am home now, with my family, and I would like to put you in the past."

"Just because you have decided what I must do does not mean that I will comply." His soft voice cut the shadows like a knife. "Far from it." Reaching out, Grey grasped her wrist, caressing its fragile pulse point. He gazed at her in admiration. How ravishing she looked in her thin lawn bedgown, her honey-hued tresses swirling about her shoulders, lustrous in the starlight.

"Unhand me," Natalya whispered, "or I'll scream."

"And you call yourself an author," he murmured, amused. "Can you not invent a more original threat?" One arm encircled her waist, and in the next instant she was against him, her breasts branding his chest through the fine material of his shirt. "You did me a disservice with that tepid farewell downstairs. Did you honestly imagine that you could dispose of me so easily?"

She was furious, yet giddy with desire. Everything about Grey stimulated and aroused her, from his clean male scent to the way he held her. Though gently sensual, his hands and arms were as unyielding as bands of steel. "Let me go," she protested weakly.

Grey responded by kissing her. Helplessly Natalya submitted to his demanding mouth, parting her own lips to allow the thrilling invasion of his tongue. Lying across his lap, she felt molded to him somehow, as if the curves of her body had been made to fit against his lean-muscled hips and chest. Grey tasted so good to her. One of his hands caressed her back, lingering on the curve of her hip and then wandering upward to graze the barest edge of her breast. Just as a whimper rose in her throat, he released her.

"That, at least, was
honest,"
he said grimly, and lifted her away from him. Natalya huddled against her pillows, watching as he walked over to the open panel in the wall and then glanced back over his shoulder. "Good night, Miss Beauvisage... until we meet again."

* * *

There were smudges of exhaustion under Natalya's eyes when she appeared in the upstairs morning room to breakfast with her sister. The sun was shining brightly, birds were singing, and Kristin wore a bored expression as she stared out the window.

"Good morning," Natalya offered from the doorway.

"Where have you been? I've eaten two buns with honey while waiting for you! I'll be as fat as Hyla if you sleep this late every morning." Picking up the Chinese porcelain coffeepot, she filled both cups and spooned sugar into her own. "You're looking rather pale. Don't you feel well?"

Upon waking and discovering the time, Natalya had dressed hurriedly in a Circassian wrapper and then paused before the mirror to brush her hair and draw it back with a pink ribbon. As she did so, she noticed that she looked pale, as if she hadn't slept at all. "I've just arrived home after a very long journey," she said, with a wan smile, sipping her coffee gratefully. "It may be a day or two before I am quite myself."

"I didn't mean to be short with you. Indeed, I am overjoyed that you've come home. As much as I adore Maman and Papa, and am able to confide in them, I do get lonely. It will be wonderful to have a sister again." Kristin reached out to squeeze her hand.

"How difficult it is for me to realize that you are actually twenty-one! If I should forget and treat you as if you're a child, you must reprimand me immediately." Feeling more cheerful, Natalya cut a raisin-studded hot cross bun in half and took a bite. "You must know that you are terribly beautiful, Krissie. What a charming gown that is! You will have to take me to your dressmaker."

"And I am eager to see all the lovely clothes you brought from France. The lace on your wrapper is exquisite! I do love fine things."

"I'm afraid that I was unable to bring very many gowns with me," Natalya replied absently. After another sip of coffee, she asked, "Is this love of fine things one of the reasons you haven't married? Are you looking for a rich husband?"

"What a question!" Kristin exclaimed with a laugh. "What of
you?
But, never mind. The reason I haven't married is that I am searching for a man who can excite me for a lifetime, and I haven't yet found him." Her eyes were dreamy as she stared out over the meadows surrounding Belle Maison. "Don't you think I was right to break off my engagements rather than marry someone I didn't truly love? I'll admit, I do long for a grand home and beautiful clothes, but I long even more for a great love, like the one Maman and Papa have." She looked back at her sister. "There's nothing between you and Grey St. James, is there?"

Taken aback, Natalya nearly choked. "Heavens, no! Certainly not! Why would you ask such a question?"

"Because I find him
exceedingly
attractive. I confess that I dreamed about him last night...."

"Oh, but he's gone back to England, or at least he's preparing to sail. Besides—"

"Haven't you heard?" Kristin interrupted gaily. "Mr. St. James is staying on in Philadelphia. He told Papa he has business to attend to. I vow, I can't recall feeling more elated than I did this morning when Maman told me."

"I—I can't believe it," Natalya gasped, trying not to betray her outrage and panic. "How can this be?"

"Wait, there's more," her sister announced, enjoying the drama. "He's moving into Uncle Nicky's old house on Spruce Street. That affords me a perfect opportunity to become better acquainted with him!"

Growing paler by the moment, she asked, "How did this happen? How could he have had the effrontery to install himself in one of
our
homes?"

"Why, it was Papa's idea! Apparently they got along splendidly last night after you and Maman and I retired. Papa sounds as if he'd like to adopt Mr. St. James. He told me he is a
viscount
!" She looked as if she might swoon. Since Natalya's only response was an openmouthed stare, Kristin continued, "It's a shame that you are so tired today. I was going to ask you if you would like to come with me to town in a little while. We could visit Grandmama and the dressmaker, and then I thought it would be a splendid idea to drop in at the house on Spruce Street and offer assistance to Mr. St. James in getting settled. Maman thought that he might be able to use someone from our kitchen until he can find a cook."

"No!" cried her sister. "I have no desire to see Grey St. James again, and the very last thing I care to do on my first full day home is visit
him!"

Kristin gave her a quizzical look. "I do wish you would tell me what it is about the man that bothers you so. All of us like him tremendously. This isn't a case of unrequited love, is it, Talya? Did he reject you because you're rather... well, past the first bloom of youth?"

Horrified, she exclaimed, "Absolutely not! That's the silliest thing I've ever heard! And, for the record, I am not
bothered
by Mr. St. James. I feel, rather, that our association is part of the past, and I have more than enough to occupy me in reestablishing my life here."

Kristin shrugged and stood up. "Well, then, I'll go alone. Perhaps you and I can take a walk in the garden later this afternoon. I do want to hear all about Paris and London." She kissed her sister's cheek and started toward the door.

Torn by confused frustration, Natalya saw that she had no choice. Even worse than seeing Grey again would be an afternoon spent here wondering what he was doing with Kristin. Besides, she was bursting with the need to give the arrogant Mr. St. James an angry dressing-down.

"Wait!" she called, and, putting on a smile, went to join Kristin in the doorway. "I've changed my mind. I
do
want to see Grandmama, and I badly need to visit the dressmaker, so I'll come with you after all."

* * *

Returning to her bedchamber, Natalya opened the door and was surprised to discover that the brass bathtub she remembered from her youth had been placed in front of the fireplace. A servant was bent over it, pouring in steaming water. Why did the generous curves of the maid's bottom look so familiar? Natalya wondered.

"Good morning," she said politely.

"Oh, my Lord!" Startled, the girl whirled around, backed up against the tub, and barely recovered her balance in time to save herself from tumbling into the hot water. Mobcap askew, she clutched the pitcher against her generous bosom and laughed nervously. "Nearly jumped out of my skin, didn't I, Miss Natalya? I wasn't expecting you yet."

"Charlotte?" She stared in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, I'm your maid, ma'am." Her smile faded when Natalya made no response. "Didn't you want me?" she asked worriedly. "When his lordship came back to the kitchen last night to tell me that I was to stay at the behest of your father, I was overjoyed! I already love America and this house and all your family, and I supposed that it was your wish that I remain as your maid. If not..."

"No, no, it's not that I don't want you." Natalya crossed the room to pat Charlotte's arm and smile into her brown eyes. "Papa must've made these arrangements after I went to bed last night. I never dreamed that you'd want to remain in America, but I'm pleased that you do."

Reassured, Charlotte helped her mistress into the scented water and then left to finish unpacking. Since the dressing room that adjoined Natalya's bedchamber belonged to her mother, she would share again with Kristin, who had generously set her own maid to work clearing space for her sister.

Alone at last in the hot, soothing bath, Natalya tried to make sense of the chaos her life had so quickly become since the
Wild Rover
had docked the previous morning. Perhaps this was just more of the same tangle that had begun with the moment she first laid eyes on Grey in France? She had submitted to his will many times during their adventures since then, partly because she thought their association was temporary. She pondered his incendiary appearance in her bedchamber the night before and the news that he was
staying
in Philadelphia, in a Beauvisage house. Finally, she reflected upon the continuing presence of Charlotte Timkins. She felt mean-spirited for wishing secretly that Charlotte were not there, but the simple fact was that the girl reminded her of their sea voyage and the one night that she longed to forget.

Was this all a game Grey was playing at her expense? She had been brimming with plans for the life she would shape upon returning to Philadelphia, and now all she could think about was that infuriating Englishman. Rinsing the soap from her neck and shoulders, Natalya resolved to confront Grey and settle the matter once and for all. And this time she would neither bend to his will nor allow him to have the last word!