She approached the trunks reluctantly. It seemed such an intimate thing, wearing something that belonged to Stefan, that had been on his body. She'd prefer not to, but she wasn't getting any of her wishes granted today. And her own shirt was uncomfortably wet, thanks to him.
The blush came on unexpectedly with the reminder of what had almost happened in this cabin. Tanya would like to say it had been the most horrible experience of her life, but that wasn't so. She had been frightened of his anger, true, but the fact was, he hadn't hurt her when he had lain atop her on the bed. He would have if he hadn't stopped, but he didn't know that. He thought her a whore, and whores supposedly did that kind of thing all the time.
What had happened instead, she would just as soon forget, but still, he hadn't hurt her with that child's punishment. She might be a little tender for a few days and not enjoy sitting down, yet it could have been so much worse. He could have used his belt and welted her, or his fists, for he'd felt justified after she had broken their bargain.
What she didn't understand was his attitude afterward. If she wasn't mistaken, she would have to say he really had been sorry for laying a violent hand on her. He had tried to apologize. He had certainly tried to comfort her — until he realized she didn't need comforting.
She made a face as she threw open the lid of the top trunk. Dumping her on the floor had not been nice of him. Of course, dumping him in the river had not been very nice of her. She giggled, wishing she could have seen his expression when he found the surface of the water. It must have been priceless.
She rummaged through the trunk, finding a number of things, boxes and such, that she would have liked to examine further, but just opening the trunk made her feel like a thief, so all she did was grab the first shirt she came across. It was white lawn, and too thin to appear bulky on her, as she discovered when she made quick work of exchanging it for her own and could see her nipples through the material. It simply wouldn't do, not by itself, since she wore no chemisette and never had, relying on the thickness of her shirts to adequately cover her breasts. And she doubted she would find a chemisette in Stefan's trunk.
She searched for and found a waistcoat instead, brocaded satin in black and silver, and about the richest piece of clothing she'd ever touched. She probably shouldn't use it. It was too fine for the likes of her. But she'd been given permission, so if Stefan objected, that was just too bad. Of course, considering that parting comment of his, he'd probably prefer her in just the shirt — or nothing at all.
Remembering that comment about her dancing and Stefan's humor brought back her annoyance with both, and she was still stewing when Stefan returned a few moments later. And the look he passed over her was salt to the wound, chockfull of amusement, sherrygold eyes crinkled with it. It was fortunate that he wasn't alone, or what she'd decided to set in motion would have had to wait until after she had vented her spleen. But Sasha was with him, and a number of crewmen followed through the door, toting buckets of water.
When Tanya saw the tin tub being carried in, however, she ground her teeth together. All that plotting and planning, and here, already, was her ticket out. Stefan was going to bathe in here, which meant she would have to leave — with an escort, no doubt, but that was all right. All she had to do was get near a railing, and she'd find some way over it.
While the bath was being readied, Stefan came over to her and drew the waistcoat together to fasten it. She brushed his hands aside and did it herself, but recalled she had to start the lulling.
Nervous with him standing so close to her, she remarked, "There were so many clothes in that top trunk, they can't all be yours. Do I have you to thank for what I've borrowed, or one of the others?"
"I believe I will feel bourgeois now if I admit that both of those trunks are mine alone, so you have only me to thank."
She glanced up in surprise. "You can't have even more clothes in the bottom one."
"Certainly I can, not that I will use them in this country. Much too conspicuous. That trunk should have remained on the ship that awaits us in New Orleans, but Sasha is of the absurd belief that everything brought along for this journey should be brought along for the entire journey."
"Conspicuous?" She dared not ask about that waiting ship if she was to keep her temper.
"They are clothes I would wear only in Europe, where the sight of nobility is nothing out of the ordinary."
Lord help her, was he going to prove as condescending as Vasili? "I see — no, I don't.
Are you saying you're a titled aristocrat?"
"In Cardinia, it is customary for the king to draw his personal guard from his nobles. It is fortunate when those he has to choose from for this honor are the friends he happened to grow up with."
"In other words, you all hold titles? What would yours be, then?"
"Would a count strain your belief?"
Everything he was saying strained her belief, but all she did was shrug and say, "You have me curious now to see what's in that other trunk."
"Ah, curiosity. " He grinned. "A reason to remain with us."
She almost choked on that one. Give up freedom merely to appease curiosity? He had to be teasing her. But his mood was mellow and she wanted to keep it that way. And she hadn't once snapped at him for his talk of nobility. Her ploy was working, and now was an excellent time for the crowning touch.
"You haven't given me much choice about remaining with you, but it would have been easier to bear if you were traveling by land."
"I fail to see—"
"I hate boats," she cut in with a feigned shiver. "Most people do who can't swim."
"You needn't fear the water, Tanya. You are my responsibility on this journey, so be assured I will protect you with my own life."
In other words, if she jumped in the river, he'd jump in right after her to save her from drowning. How gallant of him, but she didn't appreciate his gallantry under the circumstances. She'd have to make sure he wasn't around when she did her jumping, like while he was taking his bath.
However, she said, "Thank you — I think... no, a little relief is better than none at all."
"You really are worried about it, aren't you?" he asked with concern.
"These steamboats are known to explode, particularly if the captain is in a hurry to reach his destination. Ours isn't, is he?"
"If he is, then I will have to disabuse him of the notion. Does that reassure you?" She gave him a doubting look, which brought on a smile. "I can see, then, that I will just have to get your mind off this worry. I wonder if you know how adorable you look in your sloppiness, with your hair in wild disarray, your clothes hanging as loose as a night-rail, and your dirty little face. Now what are you frowning for? Don't you want to look adorable?"
She didn't need that kind of distraction and told him so by picking up her belt and slapping it around her waist. Her hair was another matter. Running her fingers through it, she could only find two pins left.
"Sasha," Stefan called, chuckling, "I believe our Tanya needs a brush. "
He moved off then and began pulling his shirt out of his trousers in preparation of removing it. The tub had been filled. Only the servant, Sasha, remained in the cabin.
When the shirt was lifted over Stefan's head, Tanya stood there mesmerized by that broad expanse of male back, darkly bronzed and well defined with muscle. Sasha, holding out the brush to her, had to clear his throat to gain her attention. Disconcerted, Tanya took the brush and turned her back on the scene.