Midnight Angel (Stokehurst #1)(93)

Marie swept him from head to toe with an expert glance, and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Lord Stokehurst,” she said in French, “what a pleasant surprise. I expected a small, pale Englishman, and instead I find a big, dark, handsome one. I do adore tall men. They make one feel so safe and protected.” Gracefully she unfastened her mantle and allowed him to take it. Her well-endowed figure was clad in a yellow gown. Jewels covered her waist, neck, arms, and ears.

“Maman,” came Tasia's tremulous voice from nearby. Marie turned with a brilliant smile, holding out her arms as her daughter rushed forward. They embraced with a mixture of laughter and tearful exclamations.

“They wouldn't let me see you until now, Tasia.”

“Yes, I know—”

“You look so beautiful!”

“And, you, as always, Maman.”

Together they went to the adjoining room for privacy and sat on the bed with tightly linked hands.

“There is so much I want to tell you,” Tasia said, her voice muffled as she leaned forward to hug her mother.

Uncomfortable with displays of emotion, Marie patted Tasia's back with a light flutter of her hand. “How is it for you in England?” she asked in Russian.

Tasia smiled, her face suddenly glowing. “It's heaven,” she said.

Marie glanced at the next room where Luke waited. “Is he a good husband?”

“Good, and generous, and kind. I love him very much.”

“Does he have land and property?”

“He's very wealthy,” Tasia assured her.

“How many servants does he have?”

“At least a hundred, perhaps a few more.”

Marie frowned, for the number was modest by the standards of Russian nobility. At one time the Kapterevs had possessed almost five hundred retainers. Nikolas Angelovsky's servants numbered in the thousands, necessary to maintain his twenty-seven estates. “How many estates does this Stokehurst have?” she asked suspiciously.

“Three, Maman.”

“Only three?” Marie's frown deepened, and she let out a disappointed sigh. “Ah, well…as long as he is kind to you,” she said, trying not to sound glum. “And he is handsome. That counts for something, I suppose.”

Tasia smiled wryly. She took Marie's hand and squeezed it lovingly. “Maman, I'm expecting a child,” she confided. “I'm almost certain of it.”

“Truly?” There was a mixture of delight and dismay on Marie's face. “But Tasia…I'm far too young to be a grandmother!”

Tasia laughed and listened attentively as Marie advised her what to eat and how to preserve her figure after the baby was born. Marie promised to send the white lace christening gown that had been used by four generations of Kapterevs. All too soon their ten minutes were over, and there came a knock on the door of the next room. Tasia started at the sound and looked at her husband with wide eyes as he approached.

“It's time,” Luke said quietly.

Tasia turned back to her mother. “Maman, you haven't told me how Varka is.”

“She is well. I wanted to bring her with me tonight, but Nikolas forbade it.”

“Will you give her my love, and tell her I am happy?”

“Yes, of course.” Busily Marie began to unclasp her necklace and bracelets. “Here, put these on. I want you to have them.”

Tasia shook her head in amazement. “No, I know how you love your jewels—”

“Take them,” Marie insisted. “I just wore the small ones tonight. Really, I'm tired of these baubles.”

The baubles, as she called them, were a collection of priceless gems. There were twin ropes of pearls and diamonds, and a gold bracelet with huge cabochon sapphires. The stones were polished but unfaceted, like gleaming blue eggs strung together in a thick web of gold. Ignoring Tasia's protests, she clasped the bracelet around Tasia's wrist and slid heavy rings on her fingers. There was a cluster of blood-colored rubies—“Always wear rubies, they help to purify the blood”—a ten-carat yellow diamond, and a creation of emeralds, sapphires, and rubies shaped in the pattern of a firebird. “Your father gave this to me when you were born,” Marie finished, pinning a bouquet of jeweled flowers to the bodice of her dress.

“Thank you, Maman.” Tasia stood up and allowed Luke to drape the green mantle over her shoulders. When the hood was pulled over her head, the garment would cover her completely. She looked at Marie with a worried frown. “When they discover you waiting here instead of me—”

“I'll be perfectly all right,” Marie assured her. “Nikolas has given his word.”

Nikolas came into the bedroom, his mouth tight with impatience. “Enough of this female chatter. Come, Tasia.”

Luke squeezed Tasia's shoulder and gently pushed her toward Angelovsky. “I'll join you later,” he murmured.

“What?” Tasia spun around to face him. The blood drained from her cheeks. “You're coming with me, aren't you?”

Luke shook his head. “It would look suspicious if I left now. Better for Radkov and his officers to think I stayed up here to comfort you. They're watching all of us closely. I'll leave soon and meet you and Biddle at Vasilyevsky Island.” Located on the east side of the city, the island possessed a sea port that opened into the Gulf of Finland.