Chained to the Barbarian. Carol Townend
could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Katerina is naked under that sheet! Naked. ‘What in heaven is going on?’
Katerina shrugged. ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’
‘The Commander and you …?’
‘Yes, Anna, the Commander and I.’
This was terrible. Everything was going wrong. In her role as Princess Theodora, Katerina had returned to the Palace only yesterday, everyone believed she was preparing to meet her betrothed. As Anna bent to retrieve Katerina’s gown and veil from the floor, her thoughts whirled. When Princess Theodora, the real Princess Theodora, had asked for Anna’s help in this masquerade, Anna had feared it was doomed from the start. It was true that Katerina bore a striking resemblance to Princess Theodora, it was also true that the Princess had not returned to the Palace for at least ten years, so few here would recognise her, but the pitfalls were many. Anna had known there would be … difficulties. But never once did she suspect that Katerina might put the entire scheme at risk by bedding the Commander …!
‘It must be the strain,’ she muttered. ‘I told the Princess that you were not suitable to take her place. She should have sent someone who understood the protocols.’
‘Someone with more breeding, you mean,’ Katerina said.
Conscious of those in the reception chamber—the servants, the Frank, the guard—Anna kept her voice low. ‘Since you care to put it like that, yes. Someone with a little more breeding would have had some idea what is, and what is not, acceptable behaviour.’ She shook her head. ‘Princess Theodora would never have invited Commander Ashfirth into her bedchamber. Or into her bed.’
What a disaster!
It might have been better if Anna had refused to help the Princess. She had not wanted to come home. The thought of finally facing her father and the ghastly marriage he had planned for her had made her feel quite ill. I should have refused to help. But no, she could not have done that. The Princess had been good to her, she had been so kind and understanding when Anna had joined her at the Rascian court. To have refused Princess Theodora’s request would have been churlish in the extreme.
Except that now … Anna bit her lip. This indiscretion of Katerina’s put them in something of an awkward position, and that was putting it mildly.
The scandal this will cause!
It was not only the scandal of an affair between the supposed Princess and the Commander that concerned her, though Anna could say nothing of this to Katerina. What will my father say? He was furious when I joined the Princess in Rascia without his permission—this will give him an apoplexy. He must not hear of it. And it is particularly important he does not hear of it before my meeting with him tomorrow …
Anna had been determined that her return to Constantinople should mark a new beginning in her relationship with her father. She wanted to prove that she had grown into a woman who was capable of making her own decisions. This was why yesterday, as soon as she had disembarked at the Palace harbour, she had sent a message to her father arranging to meet him. She had intended to quietly persuade him that marriage with Romanos Angelos was not for her. That would still be my best course of action. If I can bring Father round to my way of thinking, there will be no need to involve the Frankish slave.
Unfortunately, Lord Isaac, the Governor of Heraklea, was so conventional that any scandal would wreck Anna’s chances of reclaiming his good will. Inevitably she would be drawn into it, and that being so, what chance did she have of ever pleasing her father?
Ahead, she could see only scandal—scandal, disgrace and her father’s undying displeasure in a daughter who could never do anything right.
‘Pass me that robe, please, Anna,’ Katerina said.
Anna handed Katerina the robe and watched as she climbed out of bed. ‘Really, Katerina, you should not have done it. And so blatantly! You are quite without shame. The Princess should have sent a lady in her stead …’
While Katerina dressed, Anna let her displeasure be known, even though there was nothing she could do to change what had happened. Katerina might have been foolish to give herself to the Commander, but the attraction between them had been obvious and it had grown every day that they had spent together. Perhaps it had been inevitable. If only Katerina had waited until the real Princess had returned …
Nursing his throbbing arm and shoulder—William had felt someone gently probing and strapping it while he had lain in a half-sleep—he sat up and stared at the closed door. It must lead to Princess Theodora’s bedchamber.
Listening to the low murmur of voices—he could not make out the words—William felt his lips curve. It would seem that Lady Anna was somewhat strait-laced. Her face when that man had emerged fastening his belt … it had been priceless, absolutely priceless. Lady Anna did not approve of the affair that Princess Theodora was conducting with that man.
Who is he? The face was familiar, but William could not think why that should be—he could not place him. He had the bearing of an officer, whoever he was, and he had shocked Lady Anna.
A guard was standing by the double doors at the entrance to the apartment. William’s senses snapped awake. A Varangian! His heart jumped. He had never actually seen a Varangian in person before, but the man’s unit was betrayed by his weaponry. He had one of the infamous Varangian battleaxes firmly in his grasp, and his sword was slung on a shoulder belt. The battleaxe held William’s gaze. A Varangian, and no mistake. This was one of the Emperor’s personal bodyguard.
Mon Dieu, the ladies here could call on men in the Varangian Guard! It was a wonder that he had not noticed this earlier—he must have been more dazed than he realised. It made sense that the Emperor’s personal guard should be assigned to Princess Theodora, but it was something of a setback. Hell. William reached for the Venetian glass Lady Anna had thoughtfully left nearby and sipped. He must plan his escape with care. No rash moves.
He stared at the door of the Princess’s bedchamber. Lady Anna had looked so shocked when she had rushed in. If it were not for William’s ignominious position here, if it were not for his plans to return to Apulia—plans that had been thrown into disarray by him finding himself so unexpectedly at the heart of the Great Palace—it might be amusing to pursue her acquaintance.
His headache had eased and his mind was working better than it had done earlier, he was once again capable of setting out opposing points in an argument.
Should he remain in Constantinople for a time, or should he leave? He might not wish to be in the Great Palace, but Lady Anna had hinted that freedom was soon to be his. He was not sure he could trust her, but if her promise was not an empty one, he could stay and learn something of his mother’s family. He might meet them …
On the other hand, if he did not return to the Duchy soon, the trail leading to his enemy would be stone cold.
He frowned at the wine in his glass. For years he had wanted to discover the secrets in his mother’s past, such a chance might never come again …
And so it went on, the argument swaying from one side to the other, like the ebb and flow of two armies on the field of conflict.
He gazed at the closed door to the bedchamber. Lady Anna was apparently utterly without malice, she had yet to show him anything other than compassion, but it would not be wise for him to make a saint of her. She might be unreliable. After all, she had her reasons for persuading the Princess to buy him. She might never free him.
He must leave at the first opportunity.
It was a pity he was not going to stay long enough to discover Lady Anna’s reasons for buying him—he had to admit he was curious. His lips twitched. The way she had scurried into that bedchamber, shocked out of her calm by the Princess’s behaviour … Strangely, there was comfort in that.
The bedchamber door rattled and Lady Anna stood on the threshold.