She was actually being offered a choice? Yet it was an order, plain and simple, no matter how mild the tone. And she simply hated orders these days.
She was about to hand the mirror back and tell him what he could do with it when she caught a glimpse of her reflection that made her gasp and cringe. He'd said she looked like a grubby urchin, but that wasn't even the half of it. Tanya looked as if she had stuck her head in a fireplace and had cold ashes blown in her face, then had merely dabbed at the mess. Lighter splotches were everywhere, on her chin from having it gripped, on her cheeks and forehead where she'd rubbed against Stefan's chest. How could she repair this mess when she didn't have her powders and creams?
As best as she could, that was how. She still wasn't willing to give up her camouflage without a fight. Stefan had been provoked to lust with her looking as she did. How much more difficulty would she be facing if he saw her as she really was? But there was a devil's voice whispering at her to show him, a bit of vanity that had never troubled her before. She very swiftly squelched it.
"Will this do?" she asked after a few moments of smoothing, blending, and borrowing from the thicker color still beneath her eyes.
"The tired hag again? I think I liked the dirty urchin better."
Tanya gritted her teeth as she felt another urge to wash herself clean of her disguise. He suspected the truth anyway. But a suspicion was nothing compared to clear evidence. She resisted temptation again and changed the subject.
"Did you mention something about going to supper.
"Unless you would prefer a tray brought to you here."
"I wouldn't," she quickly assured him, amazed that she was going to be allowed out of the cabin this soon. "But aren't you worried that I will enlist someone's aid, in particular the captain's?"
"You would only embarrass him and yourself if you did."
Her green eyes narrowed. "What absurd lies have you told him about me?"
"Nothing too taxing on the imagination. You are my runaway wife. You deserted not only me but two small babies as well. I'm afraid you won't engender the least bit of sympathy if you try to tell anyone otherwise."
He smiled, letting her know he knew how furious that would make her, so all she said was, "Did you have to make me sound so heartless? No one could blame me for deserting you, but babies?"
He didn't take the bait, possibly because her eyes were so hot with rancor. He chuckled, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, and started her toward the door.
On the way to the dining room, he asked, somewhat on the same subject, "How do you feel about babies, Tanya? You will be expected to give the king at least one heir."
"Not according to him," she snorted. "He doesn't intend to ever touch me, for which I am immensely grateful."
"Most women adore Vasili. I assumed you would be pleased by the thought of marrying him."
"You assumed wrong."
"And if you had another choice?"
"That's the second time I've been asked that. Do I have another choice?"
He didn't answer. They had reached the dining room, small but comfortably furnished from what she could see through the open doorway. Serge and Vasili were already seated. Lazar was probably still cleaning up from his dunk in the river. No other girls were present at their table, but then if there were other girls like her, the men wouldn't allow them all to come together to compare fairy tales, would they?
Stefan paused before entering, holding Tanya back by her elbow. "We were discussing babies," he reminded her.
"You were, not me."
"You didn't say how you felt about them personally."
"I'm afraid it's a subject I never gave much thought to, since I had never planned to marry."
"And under these new circumstances?"
"I just told you Vasili said he wouldn't be sharing my bed, so I don't see how... wait a minute. Are you suggesting a bastard heir would be acceptable?"
"No! I mean yes — never mind."
He propelled her into the room without another word. Tanya glanced sideways at him and saw that he wasn't just flustered, but quite annoyed for some reason. Now, what was she to make of that? Not that it mattered. If she could go to supper, then it was likely that she could go to dinner that evening, too, and that was all she was interested in at the moment— another opportunity to escape.
So she behaved herself that afternoon, didn't argue, and refrained from any more caustic remarks, even toward Vasili, which was a major feat since he wasn't nearly as tactful. She also managed to ignore the disapproving looks that came her way, either because of the outlandish story circulating about her or due to her halfmannish attire, either reason sufficient to condemn her in the eyes of everyone there.
Instead she amused herself by watching every other female in the dining room trying to catch Vasili's eye, not just once, but continuously. Stefan was right in that respect. Most women seemed to adore him, and probably did — right up until they got to meet the insufferable peacock.
It was the same that evening, though even worse where Vasili was concerned, for several women managed to finagle introductions through the captain, who seemed so put upon, Tanya didn't even consider enlightening him with the truth about herself while she had the chance. It was perhaps because she did keep her mouth shut that when she confessed a need to use the convenience before their first course arrived, Stefan let her go without his escort, though she caught his nod toward Serge, which no doubt meant he was to follow at a reasonable distance. Of course, she would never have been allowed even that if Stefan thought she could swim.
Serge's unobtrusive presence on the deck was no hindrance to her plan, however, since he wasn't following close enough to stop her. Tanya even had time to pick her spot to jump, which was an added bonus, for she could barely make out a bend in the river coming up. If she could jump just before it, The Lorilie would be around the bend and out of sight long before she reached the riverbank, so no one would see her leave the water, if they could see her in the dark.
Being unable to swim was the smartest lie she'd ever told, definitely worth a mental pat on the back. Now, if she could only find the convenience.
Chapter 18
As soon as Tanya was out the door, Lazar leaned back in his chair and asked casually, "Do you think that was wise, Stefan, letting her go off on her own?"
Stefan's expression was devoid of concern. "Serge will keep an eye on her."
Vasili wasn't so casual in his grumbled opinion. "He ought to keep a hand on her — or better yet, a chain."
The suggestion wasn't taken seriously, but Lazar felt it necessary to point out, "It would take no more than a moment for her to jump ship. "
"That is at least one worry we won't have," Stefan answered, adding, "She can't swim."
"Who told you that?"
The dubious question broke through Stefan's confidence, the implication waking his lagging instincts. With a particularly foul curse, he shot to his feet and left the room. Lazar and Vasili exchanged a glance before swiftly following him.
Serge was just lighting a cheroot when they joined him on the dimly lit deck. "Where is she?" was all Stefan asked.
Serge nodded ahead of them to where a door was just opening. There was no time to experience any relief, however, at finding Tanya still aboard, for there was a flash of white legs — her skirt had been tucked up into her belt — as she ran straight to the railing, vaulted onto it, and dived cleanly into the river — right in front of the paddle wheels.
Stefan would swear his heart stopped beating in that moment of fear and dread as he leaned over the railing, searching frantically for a sign that the girl hadn't been pulled in and ripped to pieces by the huge side paddle that was churning the water on that side of the riverboat to foam. And then it dawned on him that because of the paddle wheels, which gave them added speed on top of the current already propelling them downriver, Tanya would now be behind the ship — floating broken and lifeless, or swimming to shore. Drowning wasn't a possibility, after he'd witnessed how skillfully that dive had been executed. His own dive over the side wasn't nearly as well done.