Gypsy Jewel by McAllister Patricia

Author:McAllister, Patricia [McAllister, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance/Historical
Published: 2011-11-21T05:00:00+00:00

WHEN THEY LEFT THE paved roads and the comforting glow of the city street lamps, Pavel signaled his driver to light the lanterns he had brought. Perhaps he was foolish to set off so impulsively into a storm, but he could not wait to worm his way back into Ivanov’s good graces. Of course, there was a small chance the count would refuse to see him, but knowing Ivanov, he would be curious as to why Pavel had returned so desperately in the midst of a blizzard. Surely he would be assured a seat on the count’s right again, and given all the rewards and boons such an honored position brought.

Soon Samarin House, as it was colloquially dubbed by the locals, rose before them in a blaze of lights and medieval peaked towers across the vast blanket of Moscow’s north hills. Pavel banged on the window to urge the driver to go faster, quivering with excitement as the sleigh raced across the snow banks. He opened the window and cried, “Straight through the gates. Stop for nothing this night.”

Paid to obey, the driver ignored the pair of sentries who hollered in outrage at the sleigh that whipped past their posts. They made it to the front entrance before the guards could get on their snowshoes, and Pavel disembarked with loftiness worthy of boyar, throwing back his shoulders and raising his knobby chin as if it were his own home he deigned to enter.

Even at this late hour it was not unusual to find the count awake. Seeing that was the case when a disgruntled butler answered the door, Pavel moved swiftly past the minion to confront the man who was stalking down the hall directly at him.

“You!” Ivanov raised a threatening fist, his burgundy silk smoking-jacket flying open as he came. Pavel simply stood there, unruffled, briskly dusting the snow off his fur hat and mitts as he handed them to the lackey.

“I hope I have not disturbed you, my lord,” Pavel said mildly as if Ivanov had just greeted him like a long-lost relative. “Though the hour is admittedly late, I have news which warrants your attention.”

Still the silver-tongued court creature, Pavel’s nonchalance caused the count to hesitate.

Ivanov looked barely older than when Pavel had seen him last; in fact, he noted that the slight ashen tinge to the count’s sable hair was an attractive touch, and his figure was no less lean and admirable than the dwarf recalled.

“It must be news indeed for you to risk your life and limb in seeking me out again,” Ivanov said at last, weighing his old acquaintance with dark eyes. There was a veiled threat in his tone that squeezed Pavel’s innards, though the smaller man did not react.

As if he had never been tossed out on his ear, Pavel said cheerily, “It appears the storm may render me stranded for a time, Vasili. Perhaps we could share a warm brandy by the fire?”

Pursing his lips, Ivanov considered. He was a shrewd

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