Kiss an Angel(81)

“I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t mean to doubt your word, but I simply can’t believe this.”

“Believe it, Theodosia. Alex is a Romanov. And not just any Romanov. The man who calls himself Alex Markov is the direct heir to the crown of Russia.”

She stared at her father with dismay. “Alex is a circus performer. That’s all.”

“Amelia warned me you’d react like this.” In an uncharacteristic gesture, he patted her knee. “You just need some time to get used to the idea, but I hope you know me well enough to realize that I would never make a claim like this if I weren’t absolutely certain it was true.”

“But—”

“I’ve told you many times about my family’s history, but you’ve obviously forgotten. Ever since the nineteenth century the Petroffs have served the Russian czars, all the way back to Alexander I. We’ve been linked through duty and custom, but never through marriage. Not until now.”

She heard the sound of a jet passing overhead, the roar of a truck’s diesel engine. Gradually comprehension seeped through her.

“You planned all this, didn’t you? You arranged my marriage to Alex because of this crazy idea you have about who he is.”

“It’s not even remotely crazy. Just ask Alex.”

“I’ll do that.” She rose to her feet. “I finally understand what all this is about. You’ve made me a pawn in some absurd dynastic dream of yours. You wanted to unite the two families, just like fathers used to do in the Middle Ages. This is so barbaric I can’t believe it.”

“I’d hardly call marrying you to a Romanov barbaric.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Our marriage is only going to last five more months. How can you get any satisfaction out of that? A short-term marriage is hardly the beginning of a dynasty!”

He set down his mug and walked slowly over to her. “You and Alex don’t have to divorce. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping you won’t.”

“Oh, Dad . . .”

“You’re an attractive woman, Daisy. Perhaps not as beautiful as your mother, but still appealing. If you could learn to be less frivolous, you might be able to hold on to Alex. There are certain secrets to being a good wife, you know. Cater first to your husband’s wishes. Be accommodating.” He frowned at her grubby jeans and T-shirt. “And you should be more careful about your appearance. I’ve never seen you look so sloppy. Do you know that you have hay in your hair? Maybe Alex won’t be so anxious to get rid of you if you try to be the sort of woman a man looks forward to coming home to.”

She regarded him with disgust. “Do you want me to meet him at the trailer door with his slippers?”

“That’s exactly the sort of flippant remark that will drive someone like Alex away. He’s a very serious man. If you don’t curb that inappropriate sense of humor, you won’t stand a chance of holding on to him.”

“Who says I want to?” Even as she spoke, something painful twisted inside her.

“I can see you’re going to be difficult about this, so I’ll go now.” He walked toward the door. “Just don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, Theodosia. Remember that you’re not a woman who does well alone. Setting aside the issue of Alex’s family lineage, he’s steady and reliable, and I can’t imagine a better man to take care of you.”

“I don’t need a man to take care of me!”

“Then why did you agree to the marriage in the first place?”

Without waiting for her reply, he opened the door of the trailer and stepped out into the sunshine. How could she explain the changes that had taken place inside her? She knew she was no longer the same person who’d left his house over a month ago, but he wouldn’t believe her.

Outside, the kindergartners she’d spoken with earlier were grouped around their teacher, prepared to return to the classroom. Over the past month she had grown accustomed to the sights and smells of Quest Brothers Circus, but now she looked at it all with fresh eyes.

Alex and Sheba stood near the big top arguing about something. The clowns were practicing a juggling trick while Heather attempted a handstand and Brady frowned at her form. Frankie played on the ground near Jill, who was working the dogs, little yippy things that made Daisy cringe. She smelled hamburgers sizzling on a charcoal grill the showgirls had lit, heard the ever-present hum of the generator, the snap of the pennants in the June breeze.

And then a child screamed.

The sound was so ear-splitting that everyone noticed. Alex’s head shot up. Heather fell out of her handstand, and the clowns dropped the pins they were juggling. Her father came to a sudden stop, just blocking her line of vision. She heard his gasp and pushed past him to see what was causing the commotion. Her heart skipped a beat.

Sinjun had escaped from his cage.

He stood in the short grass between the menagerie and the back door of the big top, while behind him the door of his cage hung open from a broken hinge. The white flags on his ears were up and his pale golden eyes were fixed on an object less than ten yards away.

The chubby little kindergarten cherub in her pink overalls.

The child had somehow become separated from the rest of her class, and it was her piercing scream that had caught Sinjun’s attention. The little girl howled in terror as she stood frozen to the spot, her arms jerking at her sides, a stain spreading on her overalls as she wet herself.