Bound to the Barbarian. Carol Townend

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СКАЧАТЬ that several letters had been sent. Not that a reply had ever been received. The Emperor had given her the benefit of the doubt; he had assumed her replies had been lost en route. Ashfirth was not so sure. Had she replied? Surely the Princess would not do the Emperor the discourtesy of simply ignoring his letters?

      However, those doe’s eyes were looking steadily back at him, giving nothing away. And she was right, blast her. The journey was likely to take some time and there was no sense starting off on the wrong foot by naming her a liar. Especially if this was the Princess.

       Keep it simple. Non-confrontational.

      ‘Our ship leaves this afternoon,’ he said.

      Doe Eyes tipped her head to one side and listened to her counsellor.

      ‘Two hours,’ she said. ‘Come back in two hours.’

      ‘The Princess will be ready to leave?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Nodding curtly, Ashfirth turned away. A light click informed him that the shutter had closed.

       Two hours?

       Make that four. The woman has not been born who can keep proper time. And this one is a princess who not only leaves the Emperor’s letters unanswered, but attempts to evade his summons to Court.

      Catching Brand’s eyes on him, Ashfirth spread his hands. ‘Two hours, Captain. Tell half the men they have two hours before reporting back for duty. Something tells me that Princess Theodora won’t be too punctual.’

      ‘Two hours? Right, Commander.’

      The Princess reached in front of Katerina to slide back the shutter and the tall, dark commander was cut off from sight.

      ‘Oh!’ Katerina said.

      ‘What?’

      ‘He has a limp.’

      Princess Theodora looked blankly at her. ‘Who?’

      ‘Commander Ashfirth.’ The Princess’s dark eyes searched hers and Katerina felt her cheeks warm. ‘Yes, he’s limping. I didn’t notice at first, it is only a slight limp, but …’

      When her mistress lifted an eyebrow at her, Katerina trailed to a halt—the Princess wasn’t remotely interested in Commander Ashfirth. Worse, she was looking at Katerina as though she had never seen her before, a slow smile dawning.

      Inside the convent, the baby began to cry. The Princess smothered a small groan.

      Katerina’s stomach clenched with foreboding. Hastily, she snatched at the pins of the violet veil and made to hand it back.

      The Princess brushed it aside, and Katerina caught the glitter of tears.

      ‘Despoina, what is it?’

      ‘Katerina, I am sorry …’ Princess Theodora’s voice broke. She gave a weak smile ‘But I fear I am going to have to ask for your help after all.’

      Katerina swallowed. ‘Are you?’

      The Princess nodded. ‘Yes. I would not do so if I did not have to, you do understand?’

       ‘Despoina?’

      The baby had stopped crying, but nevertheless the Princess took Katerina’s arm and set off in the direction of the convent guest house. ‘I do not wish to marry Duke Nikolaos, and you say you wish to return the favour I once did you.’

      The Princess pushed through the guest-house door, her eyes going straight to the tiny child in Lady Sophia’s arms.

      ‘I have her, despoina, she is all right,’ Lady Sophia said, bending back over the infant. ‘Aren’t you, my dove?’

      ‘What do you want me to do, my lady?’ Katerina looked at the Princess, at the baby Lady Sophia was cooing over, and then back at the Princess. She was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy.

      ‘It is simple. I should like you, Katerina,’ Princess Theodora said, ‘to pretend to be me.’

       Chapter Two

      ‘I must pretend to be you?’ Katerina’s jaw dropped. ‘My lady, you are not serious!’

      ‘I regret to say that I am.’ Princess Theodora glanced pointedly at the infant in Lady Sophia’s lap. The Princess’s tone intensified, the words tumbling out. ‘My time with my daughter is likely to be short. You must forgive me, Katerina, but I am desperate to be with her as long as I may.’

      Hurrying to one of the travelling chests, the Princess pushed back the lid and leaned it against the wall. She reached inside and sent a stream of silks and satins flying towards her pallet: first came her favourite pink gown, the one with the silver embroidery at the neck and hem; next came the blue one made from finest English wool; then the brown silk, which shimmered with silver threads when she walked; the cream one with green acanthus leaves embroidered at the hem; the delicate green with pearl-encrusted cuffs.

      Several veils floated through the air and settled on the gowns: the deep purple one that was reserved for important ceremonies because only members of the Imperial family were entitled to wear purple; the cream; the grey; the yellow …

       ‘Despoina?’

      The Princess whirled and grabbed Katerina’s hand. ‘Here, these will suit you. What a blessing we are similar in height and build. Do you like them?’

       Do you like them?

      Katerina’s insides turned to water. The Princess means this! The Princess really means this!

      Princess Theodora’s eyes were bright and intense, her jaw was set. She looked so determined, she seemed not to have noticed that Katerina had reservations, that sheer terror was a breath away. That, or she was choosing to ignore it. The Princess wanted more time with her baby daughter, which was perfectly natural. Princess Theodora was not the first princess to anticipate her wedding night; she was not the first princess to bear a child before she was married. Unfortunately, it seemed likely that little Martina would be taken from her the moment she set foot in Constantinople.

      In preparation for her forthcoming marriage, all evidence of Princess Theodora’s transgression would be swept away.

      Heart full, helpless in the face of the Princess’s pain, Katerina watched her mistress turn to another of the iron-bound chests and dip into that. A pair of kid shoes landed on the bed; some short riding boots; sandals; purple slippers …

      Katerina’s heart sank when she saw the purple slippers. ‘Despoina?’

      ‘Mmm?’

      Katerina extracted the purple veil and matching slippers from the rapidly growing pile and held them out. ‘I can never wear these. You know it is forbidden. Ordinary people just cannot wear purple! I was not born in the Great Palace. I am not remotely related to the Emperor. What would happen to a slave who СКАЧАТЬ