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Besides, Konstantin liked the costumes. They not only provided a serviceable bed – albeit one
that contained an occasional jab from a wayward sword or crown – but they allowed him to come to
her in many forms. In the ten months of their affair, Tatiana had been ruthlessly ravished by a gypsy,
coldly claimed as a spoil of war by a Prussian general, seduced by the exotic rituals of a prince of
India, and thrust heavenward in the arms of a Greek god.
Today he was wearing the plumed hat of a French aristocrat, red velvet riding britches, and one
boot. She sat up on her elbows to consider his latest manifestation.
“The velvet is fetching, and more practical too. The trouble with satin is that it’s so hard to grab
hold of. And I don’t wish to slide off.”
He grinned and flopped down beside her, the grand hat tumbling to the side as he did so. “I can
find a way to travel to the coast this summer, you know. It isn’t impossible.”
“It is.”
“All I must do is send a message to the tsarina saying that the littlest grand duchess needs extra
practice. That my progress with Xenia has been so hard-won and tentative I fear two months without
any dance lessons at all might knock her right back to the starting point.” He shrugged. “It’s true
enough, in a way.”
“Most lies are.”
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re in a strange mood today. What’s wrong?”
What was wrong? Only a man could ask such a question, half-naked, in that particular tone of
voice.
“The thought of you coming to the coast for the summer scares me,” she said. “St. Petersburg
is big and busy with lots of places for us to hide, but you can’t imagine how different the Crimea will
be. It’s a small world and everyone is far too aware of what everyone else is doing.” Tatiana settled
back into the soft nest of ball gowns. Her own red dress was in here somewhere, among all the
others. “Filip does not have so many duties in the Crimea.”
“Giving him more time for his wife,” Konstantin said flatly.
“You know I hate it,” she said. It was true. But on this trip in particular, more than ever, she
must at least make a show of keeping her marriage together.
They lay for a moment in silence. “Besides,” she finally added. “A single summer is not so