The Ice Swan полностью

“I’m a known loyalist to the tsar, as is my family, Princess. It was not always information they were after. More often it was punishment for my allegiances.”

A tear slipped down Mama’s cheek. “Where is your family now? I cannot imagine your gentle mother and sister enduring such horror.”

Sergey dropped his eyes as if the agony could not allow him to look at another human being. “I do not know their fate, but I pray they are alive and well. I am only glad my father did not live long enough to see this. The Reds would have made an example of him.”

“As they did to you instead.”

“For months it was the same. Yelling, beatings, scraps of food to fight over. So many died. Then one night the guards came in taunting us and firing their pistols into the ceiling. They were celebrating the news of the imperial family’s execution. To add to their merrymaking they decided to kill us, too, so we could continue to serve their highnesses in the great beyond.”

Sergey paused and gripped the mantel. A knot bobbed in his throat. “They marched us to the edge of the city and forced us to dig our own graves before they shot us. I was hit in the arm and fell into the pit. They forced the village peasants to cover us with dirt, but one of them saw I was alive and saved me.”

“Oh, my poor brave boy.”

“Eventually I made it out of Russia and to Paris. I looked everywhere for you. Asked everyone I encountered.”

Mama sniffed. “Svetlana kept us hidden. She didn’t trust anyone to know who we were.”

“It was safer that way, Mama,” Marina said from her chair.

“Then on Armistice Day, I found you.” Sergey looked to Svetlana. Anguish rippled across his face. “It was a moment, but I saw you. Standing at the window with your hair shining silver in the morning light. I tried to get to you, but the crowd pushed me on. By the time I managed to break free I was blocks away.”

With a cry Mama lurched to the edge of her chair and stared accusingly at Svetlana. “Why did you not tell me you’d seen Sergey? How could you keep it to yourself?”

Having sat silent since they entered the library as the initial shock settled into acceptance that this was indeed happening and Sergey was standing before them, Svetlana roused herself to respond.

“At the time I didn’t know for certain. I rushed out the door to find you, but then the letter came informing us about Hugh.” She pushed away the memory of that awful telegram. “I thought if it had been you, you would return.”

Sergey nodded sympathetically. “I mapped my way back somehow, only to find two shadows stalking me.”

Marina gasped. “The Reds?”

“Whoever it was, I didn’t feel safe leading them straight to you, so I left and laid low for a time. When I finally returned to the address it was locked up tight. The neighbors said you’d sailed to Britain.”

“Where you’ve finally found us. As you promised.” Mama’s tearful voice cracked as if she were apologizing for their absence, as if their safety had been a secondary inconvenience.

“I would never break my promise to you.” Sergey’s eyes combed over Svetlana as if fitting the puzzle of her to the memory he’d held when they last parted.

She couldn’t help doing the same. He was leaner than before, like a reed shaved down to its sparest form. The hair and mouth and mannerisms were the same, but there was an edge to him now. The easygoing manner so finely tuned to parties and afternoons riding in drozhkies had coiled into a bound energy that vibrated just below the skin. Yet when she looked into his dark eyes, she saw the same young man who had come to play cards with her on Sunday afternoons, who had taken her ice skating when the freeze set in, and whom she might have married. But the revolution had changed things, had changed them. Could he see the differences in her as well?

Differences or not, it was a wonderful miracle to see him again. Alive and safe. A piece of her life returned.

“I can’t believe you’re really standing here.”

Sergey knelt in front of her and held her hands between his. “Believe it, kroshka. I told you I would find you and I have. The thought of returning to your side was all that kept me alive since we parted over a year ago.” His eyes glistened with fervor as he pressed his lips to her fingertips.

The library door slammed shut, startling them. Wynn stood there, his face held in shadow as the firelight dared not touch that far across the room.

“The guest chamber is being prepared.”

Svetlana withdrew her hands from Sergey’s and tucked them in her lap. First that kiss and now this. She’d done nothing to contribute to either, but shame filled her nonetheless.

Ever the courtly gentleman, Sergey rose and smoothed the front of his worn black jacket.

“Thank you. My sincerest apologies for placing a burden on you with no advance warning.”