Once a Princess

by Johanna Lindsey

  Now she looked Vasili straight in the eye and re­peated her question in a tone he couldn't doubt was serious. "I asked if you wouldn't mind kissing me."

  "Actually, I would mind," he replied, still indig­nant, then glanced about the camp they had set up about an hour ago, looking for Stefan.

  Tanya guessed as much. "He went with Serge to the village that is supposed to be a couple of miles from here. At least that's what Lazar said."

  Vasili's eyes came back to her, narrowed. "So if he isn't around, what was the point of that ridiculous request? It was to make him jealous, wasn't it?"

  "As if he would be," she snorted. "No, I asked for my own benefit, because Stefan says that no mat­ter who kisses me, they'll get the same response from me. I want to know if that's so."

  "You must be joking!" he exclaimed.

  "Do I look like I'm joking?"

  "But I seriously doubt that Stefan meant it. He hasn't exactly been in a good mood lately, in case you hadn't noticed. And when he gets like this—"

  "He made the observation before we left Danzig. "

  Losing on that point, Vasili tried another, his voice actually scolding. "You don't just go around asking men to kiss you, Princess."

  That had her blushing again. "If this weren't im­portant, I wouldn't. But that is why I asked you instead of someone else, to keep it in the family, so to speak. Now, will you just do it and get it over with?"

  "No, I will not," he said flatly, with finality.

  "Why not?"

  "Because Stefan would kill me if he found out."

  "He wouldn't do any such thing," she scoffed.

  "I would just as soon not put it to the test, thank you. "

  She was surprised. She really thought he would help. "Very well, I'll just have to ask someone else."

  She turned to leave. He reached out and grabbed her arm. He looked totally flustered now.

  "You must have some past experience to go by for this comparison. At least one man who has kissed you before Stefan. Rack your memory, for God's sake."

  "I did. The few other kisses I've had were stolen, and necessarily brief, because I tended to draw my knife very quickly."

  Vasili gave in then, but with complete ill grace. "Oh, very well. " He leaned forward to place his lips on hers for all of five seconds.

  When he leaned back, Tanya was shaking her head at him in disgust. "You know what kind of kiss I meant, Vasili. That wasn't it."

  He flushed furiously now and grabbed her hand, pulling her along behind him across the camp. "Where are we going?" Tanya demanded.

  "If I am going to do this properly, it isn't going to be for public consumption that Stefan will be bound to find out about." And then he looked back at her suspiciously. "You aren't intending to tell him, are you?"

  "If I do, I won't mention names."

  That must have satisfied him, for he said no more. His destination was the other side of her coach, which she slept in when they camped out in the open like this. No one was near it now, but when she retired, there would be at least four attendants sleeping in front of either door, including the two women who were acting as her maids, as well as a number of guards set to watch the coach all night long. She might not have felt like a princess before they reached Europe, but she was being treated like one on this trip, with servants galore keeping her from lifting a hand to her own care.

  Vasili stopped as soon as he was certain no one could see them, and immediately drew Tanya into a lover's embrace. The kiss began hesitantly on his part, but he soon got into the spirit of it. And Tanya was determined to participate as well, to relax, to open her senses to feel the experience. That was easy enough, since she was getting good at this sort of thing. Vasili, on the other hand, was an expert at it, quite as good as Stefan. But that's what she had hoped for, to really put it to the test.

  The experiment ended about five minutes later, when she tapped Vasili on his shoulder. He released her and stepped back, running an agitated hand through his golden locks.

  There was a soft glow in his eyes that was quickly extinguished as he gave her an inquiring look. "Do you have your answer?"

  She grinned. "Yes."

  "Well?"

  "You don't really want to know, do you, Vasili?"

  Her beaming expression told him plain enough that he'd failed to stir her. He burst out laughing.

  "You never have been good for my self-esteem, Princess, so spare my feelings in this case."

  Chapter 44

  Tanya had waited impatiently for Stefan to return to camp last night. He and Serge had supposedly only gone to the village up ahead to get news of the area they were nearing, and to arrange to have breakfast prepared and waiting for their large group when they passed through the village in the morning, as well as more food they could take with them for a noon meal.

  Lazar had told her this part of the country was known for its hill bandits and other types of lawless individuals. Because it was so remote and almost primitive in nature, it was ignored by the countries surrounding it: Austria; the kingdom of Poland, or what was left of it, since Poland was now under Russia's control; and Russia herself.

  Unfortunately, the northern route leading to Cardinia cut right through this area. But it could be traversed in only half a day. And Tanya was assured that heavily guarded travelers, such as they, were never bothered. Not that she was worried about it. She had also been told, almost from the beginning of the overland trek, that the land's natural inhabitants were a danger, too, for bears, wildcats, and wolves roamed the forests and sometimes beyond. It had been stressed again and again that she was never to venture off alone for any reason whatsoever. But she hadn't given that much thought, either, with so much else on her mind.

  When Stefan had finally returned to camp last night, she had tried to speak to him, but he had put her off, saying he was too tired. When she tried again in the morning before they broke camp, he said he was too busy, it would have to wait until that evening—when she would probably hear that he was too tired again? Like hell.

  It was then that she remembered all the warnings about how dangerous it would be to leave the group. She also remembered how thoroughly upset Stefan had been that time she'd jumped into the Mississippi River, just because she had put herself at risk. She decided that if she couldn't get his attention by asking for it, she'd get it another way—by turning up missing.

  Of course, she had no intention of putting herself in danger. She wouldn't have to go far from the coaches to be "missing," certainly not beyond shouting distance. She just didn't have to answer when she was called. And she didn't have to show herself until Stefan was good and upset. Then that devil would damn well talk to her.

  She also realized that what she intended might actually put Stefan's promise to the test, that he was likely to be livid with rage, just as before. But that only added some exciting possibilities to the plan, which made her even more determined to do it. And she didn't wait until that evening. She'd just as soon not go off in the dark, anyway. She chose that very afternoon, when they stopped to partake of the cold fare from the village.

  Tanya waited until everyone had almost finished eating, since there was no point in going off into the woods for longer than she had to. She even finished the meat wrapped in thick bread and butter that had been brought to her. But as soon as her maids started cleaning up in preparation to leave again, she slipped behind the coach, waited another minute to make sure no one had seen her, then dashed into the woods.

  She wasn't sure what she was going to say in her defense when she let herself be "found." She ought to just put the blame where it was due and tell Stefan the truth. No, that wasn't, after all, a good enough excuse to ignore all the warnings she had been given. Just because he was ignoring her? She could tell him that she'd wanted to be alone, to think, to decide if she was going to marry him or not, and then had fallen asleep. After all, she needed a reason to explain why she wasn't going to answer when she heard them calling for he
r. Being asleep solved that.

  At any rate, she had a while to think about it, ten minutes probably, before they would be ready to continue on their way. Then she had a moment's unease when it occurred to her that they just might leave, thinking she was inside her coach already. But she laughed it off. They wouldn't be that careless. And someone usually rode with her.

  But at that point, she decided she'd gone into the woods far enough. She looked about for some type of cover other than a fat tree trunk, though a trunk would do just as well for her purposes. Then she spotted what looked like a building just a little farther on and headed toward it. On closer inspection, she saw that at one time it had been a house or a farm, but was now in ruins, long abandoned. As shelter, it fell short of the mark, with most of the roof and one wall caved in, but as a place to "fall asleep," it was perfect. Only Tanya hadn't counted on anyone else being there.

  When she came around the building to get out of the wind, she saw the three ponies first, once wild by the look of them, then the three men leaning up against the wall of the ruins. She no sooner let out a gasp of surprise than the man closest to her was hauling her forward and out of sight of the way she had come.

  "Now just a—"

  A hand over her mouth cut off Tanya's protest. An arm around her waist lifted her off the ground and didn't let go. Her wrists were swiftly being tied together by another man, who also had a gag ready for her mouth. It had all happened too quickly, before she could think, before she could get at the knife strapped to her thigh.

  "What if she isn't the one?"

  "She is," said one of the men with confidence. "You sent me close to watch them and I watched. She is the only lady in that party."

  "Then she wouldn't be out here alone. She wouldn't be this far from the road at all."

  "Who cares what she's doing here when what she did is make it easy to earn the payment."

  "Then if you're sure, I say kill her here and be done with it."

  "You would say that, Pavel," he was told with unmistakable disgust.

  "Why bother taking—"

  "Take a good look at her. I would keep her before I'd kill her. Besides, it's Latzko's decision, not ours. We don't even know if the payment is good yet, and I'm not killing anyone for nothing."

  "We'll be hunted," Pavel pointed out.

  "We'll be hunted either way." The other man laughed. "But how does that make a difference when we're always hunted? And no one finds us unless we want them to."

  Tanya didn't know she'd been given a reprieve or that her life had even been in imminent danger, be­cause they had been speaking some Slavic tongue that she couldn't begin to understand. But she did know that she would be going with them, because as soon as she was tightly bound—and it took less than a minute to accomplish that—she was tossed up onto one of the small ponies, with the shortest of the men getting on behind her—for the sake of the pony, she supposed.

  She didn't know what to make of this abduction, except that she hoped these men weren't associated with whoever had tried to kill her in Danzig, and since they hadn't killed her outright, that hope was strong. But if they were hill bandits, why didn't they just rob her and go? Why take her with them?

  They looked no different from the people she had been seeing for the past few days in this part of the country, dark of hair and eyes, swarthy-skinned, ex­cept there was a marked difference in their individual heights. One was no taller than Tanya, one was a few inches above her, and one was actually quite tall. Their clothes were not quite the same as those she had seen in the area, looking more appropriate for riding: thick trousers, soft-skinned boots laced up the calves, short sheepskin jackets with the fur on the inside, worn over woolen shirts wrapped with wide cloth belts. They each wore brightly colored scarves knotted close to the neck and shaggy fur hats. If they carried any weapons, she didn't see them, but un­doubtedly they did.

  Stefan had been traveling in a gradual, southeast­erly direction. These men rode directly south, straight for the Carpathian Mountains. And they rode as if the devil were on their tails. The only stop they made that evening was at some isolated farm, where they gave up their worn-out ponies for fresh ones. They avoided roads altogether, seeming to know every out­-of-the-way path through forests and hills. And they didn't even stop to eat, chewing on stale bread crusts that each man carried.

  They reached their destination sometime around noon of the next day, having ridden straight through the night. It looked like a typical village, except it was high in the mountains, reached by a path that Tanya was sure only those small ponies could nav­igate.

  She was utterly exhausted by then, having gotten no more sleep than her captors. She was almost too tired to care what happened next, but she was defi­nitely grateful for the warmth inside the house she was dragged into.

  It was more like a log cabin, though with only one large room. Tanya moved straight to the clay-­mounded oven in the center of it the moment she was let go. The first thing she noticed was how cluttered the room was, with crude furniture and the debris of a lifetime. The second thing she noted was the man sitting at a table eating; he didn't even look up at their intrusion. He was big, middle-aged, with the hardened features of someone who had not had an easy life.

  A pouch was dropped before him, and a lengthy explanation was given by her captors that she didn't bother to try deciphering. Instead she looked at the many cots scattered about and wondered if anyone would mind if she made use of one. But she didn't want to leave the fire just yet. She had been chilled to the bone, despite the long gray cloak she was wearing. But then she wasn't used to winters like this, and it had become much colder the higher they had climbed into the mountains.

  She finally noticed the silence and glanced toward the table to find only the older man there, the other three gone. He'd been watching her while he finished his meal. He didn't seem disposed to say anything, however.

  Tanya decided to try her luck just the same. "I don't suppose you speak English either?"

  "English," he said in disgust. "I know four lan­guages good, three not so good. My English is not so good."

  "Good enough," Tanya said in relief. She knew a smattering of French and Spanish herself, but she doubted those two languages were included in his seven. "Will you tell me what I'm doing here?"

  "You should not be."

  "Not be what?"

  "Here. If my men knew the difference between rubies and pretty glass, then you would not be." He picked up a necklace from the table and dangled it from a finger to show her.

  "I don't understand."

  "This was given to kill you. It is not real, so you do not die."

  It was nice of him to clarify that before she had time to be horrified. "Do I understand you correctly? Someone paid your men to kill me, and that necklace was the payment?"

  "That is what I said."

  "And since it's made of glass instead of real ru­bies, you won't kill me?"

  "That is what I said. "

  It was that cowardly assassin of hers, no doubt afraid to try again himself. But she asked anyway. "Can you tell me who?"

  He shrugged. "We do not deal with names."

  She sighed. "Very well, what now?"

  "My men waste much time getting you, ruin good animals getting here. Pavel, he thinks we should kill you anyway, for the trouble they were put to." He chuckled. "He hates all aristocrats after one beat hell out of him. Will your people pay to have you back?"

  She shrugged. "Probably, though I wouldn't stake my life on it. Why don't you just ask whatever price you want and see if you get it?"

  He grinned. "I like the way you think, lady." He waved a hand to the pot sitting on top of the oven. "Eat, rest, it will not be long."

  "It won't?"

  "Your people were not far behind," he explained, "not far at all. Hope they carry a lot of gold, lady, or we may have to kill them all."

  He'd managed to horrify her after all.

  Chapter 45

 
; Stefan rode slowly into Latzko's village, his men spread out behind him. He had come here once be­fore, about seven years ago, when he had had a fight with his new mistress and she had run home to her father. Latzko was her father. Stefan had come to make up with the girl, having decided he'd been unfair in their argument, a dispute he couldn't even recall the subject of, it had been so minor. And Arina had been delighted that he'd come to fetch her back. An old suitor of hers hadn't been, however, and had insisted Stefan fight for her. It had been a bother. He hadn't wanted the girl back that much. But he had obliged the fellow and won. Ironically, the affair with Arina had only lasted another month.

  Latzko came out of his house to greet him now and obviously remembered him, if his welcoming smile was any indication. And why not? The wily brigand hadn't been satisfied with getting his hot­-tempered daughter off his hands again, seven years ago. He'd charged Stefan fifty rubles before he could leave with her, and that was after Stefan had already fought and won that privilege.

  "What brings you here this time, Stefan?"

  Two other men had come to join Latzko in front of his house. Stefan wasn't pleased to see that Pavel was one of them, and looking as belligerent as he had the last time. But the rest of the village also turned out, the men coming quietly forward to surround Stefan's, their weapons concealed, but Stefan knew how quickly that could change with these mountain people.

  He stared at Latzko and said without preamble, "I believe you have something that is mine."

  "Yours?" Latzko laughed heartily. "I'll be damned. They didn't bother to tell me that. "

  Stefan gritted his teeth, doubting that, but at the moment he didn't care. "How much?"

  "Five hundred?"

  "Done. "

  "And he has to fight me," Pavel inserted loud enough for all to hear.

  "Done."

  From Latzko's expression, it was clear he hadn't expected the challenge. He even tried to protest. "You are supposed to learn from experience, Pavel, not foolishly make the same mistakes. Didn't he nearly kill you last time with his bare hands?"

  "My mistake was not calling for knives last time, " Pavel replied with appalling confidence. "This time we use them."