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Authors: Carol Marinelli
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responded. “Isaak people come to search their family history when they are ready to find certain things out.”
“I’m ready,” Isaak said, and as they ate their main course, he tried to prove that he was. “I know that my family history is not the most impressive. My mother and babushka both had miserable lives and it was not due to poverty.”
“Babushka?” Kate frowned.
“Grandmother,” Isaak explained and then let out a tense breath. “I know that my ded , my grandfather, and my father also spent time in prison. I understand why you may have said those things about going to the police the other night.” As Kate shook her head in protest to his words, Isaak pushed on. “You’re not going to surprise me.”
“I think I might.”
Kate was nervous to tell him, unsure how he might react to the news. “Isaak, as I said, that ring is not a replica. The hallmarks have been scratched but it goes back to pre-1917 and the Romanov empire.”
“Ivor was once very wealthy, he could afford to buy this easily.”
“No.” Kate shook her head and waited as their plates were taken away. “It was given to him by your babushka . So too were the earrings, along with other trinkets.”
“No,” Isaak stared at her in disbelief. “She was a modest woman, there was no money in my family. Why would she have this?”
“She was a very beautiful woman,” Kate said. “And looking at the records, when your grandfather was in prison, she had a cleaning job. Where, we don’t yet know, but it would seem that your babushka had a lover and we were trying to deduce who he might have been. Growing up, Ivor was told he had been born premature, that he came early.” She gazed at him intently. “Whoever he was, he made sure Ivor was provided for. When Ivor returned from serving in the military your babushka told him the truth or a part of it—she had had an affair while her husband was in prison. She wouldn’t say whom with, but it clearly was someone rich enough to bestow her with money and jewels enough for Ivor to leave Russia and start a new life in England.”
“Why wouldn’t Ivor tell me that?” Isaak asked and Kate gave no reply, but later back in the suite when he was clearly struggling with the news and asked the question again, Kate was honest.
“I think his concern was if your father ever found out.”
Isaak nodded because that did make sense. “My father was always jealous of his brother, even without knowing this. Ivor would come back to Russia often with gifts, money…” Isaak looked back on those times. “Of course we thought he had made his fortune in England, we never knew that it had been handed down to him. My uncle was right—it would have made things worse.”
“Worse?”
“My father was already an angry man.”
He started to undress, and Kate turned her head and then picked up the nightdress and headed to the bathroom to change.
Walking out, she wondered if he’d perhaps offer to take the sofa, but his eyes met hers as she hung the pearls on the mirror.
“Sleep well.” Isaak got into bed and stretched out luxuriously.
“And you.”
Kate wouldn’t sleep well.
She wanted the bed and possibly the six-foot-two Russian it contained.
It was a very new feeling to have.
Chapter 9
K ate awoke to her alarm and the sound of rain beating against the French windows, and possibly she was more nervous the second morning that she approached the bed but for very different reasons this time though.
Isaak was asleep and there was no comment from him, this morning, when she slipped in between the sheets.
Kate lay on her side and facing away from him, closing her eyes as her heart hammered in her chest.
Asleep, the slight disturbance, the soft bleep of an alarm would usually be enough to wake him for Isaak always rose early, yet he allowed himself the rare indulgence of hitting snooze.
Or did he hit it?
Whatever, the alarm had gone off, and Isaak slipped back into his dream—the sound of
“I’m ready,” Isaak said, and as they ate their main course, he tried to prove that he was. “I know that my family history is not the most impressive. My mother and babushka both had miserable lives and it was not due to poverty.”
“Babushka?” Kate frowned.
“Grandmother,” Isaak explained and then let out a tense breath. “I know that my ded , my grandfather, and my father also spent time in prison. I understand why you may have said those things about going to the police the other night.” As Kate shook her head in protest to his words, Isaak pushed on. “You’re not going to surprise me.”
“I think I might.”
Kate was nervous to tell him, unsure how he might react to the news. “Isaak, as I said, that ring is not a replica. The hallmarks have been scratched but it goes back to pre-1917 and the Romanov empire.”
“Ivor was once very wealthy, he could afford to buy this easily.”
“No.” Kate shook her head and waited as their plates were taken away. “It was given to him by your babushka . So too were the earrings, along with other trinkets.”
“No,” Isaak stared at her in disbelief. “She was a modest woman, there was no money in my family. Why would she have this?”
“She was a very beautiful woman,” Kate said. “And looking at the records, when your grandfather was in prison, she had a cleaning job. Where, we don’t yet know, but it would seem that your babushka had a lover and we were trying to deduce who he might have been. Growing up, Ivor was told he had been born premature, that he came early.” She gazed at him intently. “Whoever he was, he made sure Ivor was provided for. When Ivor returned from serving in the military your babushka told him the truth or a part of it—she had had an affair while her husband was in prison. She wouldn’t say whom with, but it clearly was someone rich enough to bestow her with money and jewels enough for Ivor to leave Russia and start a new life in England.”
“Why wouldn’t Ivor tell me that?” Isaak asked and Kate gave no reply, but later back in the suite when he was clearly struggling with the news and asked the question again, Kate was honest.
“I think his concern was if your father ever found out.”
Isaak nodded because that did make sense. “My father was always jealous of his brother, even without knowing this. Ivor would come back to Russia often with gifts, money…” Isaak looked back on those times. “Of course we thought he had made his fortune in England, we never knew that it had been handed down to him. My uncle was right—it would have made things worse.”
“Worse?”
“My father was already an angry man.”
He started to undress, and Kate turned her head and then picked up the nightdress and headed to the bathroom to change.
Walking out, she wondered if he’d perhaps offer to take the sofa, but his eyes met hers as she hung the pearls on the mirror.
“Sleep well.” Isaak got into bed and stretched out luxuriously.
“And you.”
Kate wouldn’t sleep well.
She wanted the bed and possibly the six-foot-two Russian it contained.
It was a very new feeling to have.
Chapter 9
K ate awoke to her alarm and the sound of rain beating against the French windows, and possibly she was more nervous the second morning that she approached the bed but for very different reasons this time though.
Isaak was asleep and there was no comment from him, this morning, when she slipped in between the sheets.
Kate lay on her side and facing away from him, closing her eyes as her heart hammered in her chest.
Asleep, the slight disturbance, the soft bleep of an alarm would usually be enough to wake him for Isaak always rose early, yet he allowed himself the rare indulgence of hitting snooze.
Or did he hit it?
Whatever, the alarm had gone off, and Isaak slipped back into his dream—the sound of
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