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Authors: Killarney Sheffield
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and fussed with the collar on the shirt. “I hate formal dinners,” he mumbled.
The valet grinned and handed him his dinner jacket.
Dimitry shrugged into the coat and tugged at his sash. “I feel like a penguin.” The valet smiled and placed freshly shined dress boots in front of him. He pulled them on and took one last look at himself in the mirror frowning at the suave gentleman who gazed back at him. “Might as well get this over with.” He headed down the hall to the stairs, but the valet stopped him at the guest wing.
“The physician has requested you carry the princess down to the dining room as she is still quite weak.”
“Me?” Dimitry glared at the man. “You are the valet.” The man stood there and grinned. Foolish servants, always trying to harness me with any available upper-crust lady who happens across my path. Dimitry stomped down to the guest wing and stopped outside the woman’s room. “First I get tricked into dining with her, now I have to carry her as well,” he grumbled tapping on the door.
“ Come in,” Anya called.
Chapter Seven
Rose looked up as the door opened and Dimitry entered. Her breath caught in her throat. His elegant attire set off his dark features to perfection. He paused for a moment his eyes widening in surprise when he saw her seated there waiting for him. She tried to ignore the slow blush creeping up her neck and face as he stared. His eyes traveled from her head down to the toes of the bottle green slippers peeking out from under the hem of the matching silk dress she wore. She caught his eye as he looked back up, blushing at his admiring gaze before he looked away.
With a sha ke of his head he seemed to come to his senses and crossed the room to her side. Running a hand through his hair, he cleared his throat. “Dinner awaits,” he said, giving her a small bow.
Her arms went around his neck as he picked her up and carried her from the room. She was terrified he would feel the pounding of her heart against his chest. Taking a deep breath to still her nerves she inhaled his scent. He still smelled of horses and brandy, with a hint of soap. They entered a small family dining room just off the larger formal one. He set her down in a chair at the side of the table before taking his place at the head.
A tall blond man stood from his place opposite her and bowed. “Allow me to informally introduce myself. I am Victor, Dimitry's cousin. You look lovely this evening, Princess Elizabeth.”
“Thank you.”
A servant rushed to place a napkin across her lap and fill her wine glass. Another servant placed a bowl of thin red soup in front of her. She eyed the large spoonful of thick soured cream floating on top and cast a questioning look at Victor.
He paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth and smiled at her. “It is Borsch, beet and cabbage soup, traditionally a peasant dish , but one of Dimitry’s favorites.”
She took a small spoonful and tasted it. The tart taste thrilled her taste buds.
When Victor cleared his throat she glanced up. He smiled at her and then fixed his gaze on his cousin. Dimitry ignored him and continued to eat.
She bowed her head over her bowl and spooned up the soup, watching out of the corner of her eye.
Victor stared at Dimitry, but the man’s attention seemed focused only on his dinner. He cleared his throat again, louder this time.
Dimitry raised his eyebrow. “Is there something caught in your throat?”
“No.”
“That is good.” Dimitry put down his spoon and signaled for his attending servant to fill his wine glass.
Victor frowned, and focused his attention on her. “So princess, have you ever been to Russia bef ore?”
She looked up from her bowl and smiled. “No. Well, at least I do not believe I have ever been out of England.”
Dimitry fixed her with a doubtful look. “And yet you are engaged to a Frenchman?”
“I am? I am afra id I cannot remember. The physician said it might be a while
The valet grinned and handed him his dinner jacket.
Dimitry shrugged into the coat and tugged at his sash. “I feel like a penguin.” The valet smiled and placed freshly shined dress boots in front of him. He pulled them on and took one last look at himself in the mirror frowning at the suave gentleman who gazed back at him. “Might as well get this over with.” He headed down the hall to the stairs, but the valet stopped him at the guest wing.
“The physician has requested you carry the princess down to the dining room as she is still quite weak.”
“Me?” Dimitry glared at the man. “You are the valet.” The man stood there and grinned. Foolish servants, always trying to harness me with any available upper-crust lady who happens across my path. Dimitry stomped down to the guest wing and stopped outside the woman’s room. “First I get tricked into dining with her, now I have to carry her as well,” he grumbled tapping on the door.
“ Come in,” Anya called.
Chapter Seven
Rose looked up as the door opened and Dimitry entered. Her breath caught in her throat. His elegant attire set off his dark features to perfection. He paused for a moment his eyes widening in surprise when he saw her seated there waiting for him. She tried to ignore the slow blush creeping up her neck and face as he stared. His eyes traveled from her head down to the toes of the bottle green slippers peeking out from under the hem of the matching silk dress she wore. She caught his eye as he looked back up, blushing at his admiring gaze before he looked away.
With a sha ke of his head he seemed to come to his senses and crossed the room to her side. Running a hand through his hair, he cleared his throat. “Dinner awaits,” he said, giving her a small bow.
Her arms went around his neck as he picked her up and carried her from the room. She was terrified he would feel the pounding of her heart against his chest. Taking a deep breath to still her nerves she inhaled his scent. He still smelled of horses and brandy, with a hint of soap. They entered a small family dining room just off the larger formal one. He set her down in a chair at the side of the table before taking his place at the head.
A tall blond man stood from his place opposite her and bowed. “Allow me to informally introduce myself. I am Victor, Dimitry's cousin. You look lovely this evening, Princess Elizabeth.”
“Thank you.”
A servant rushed to place a napkin across her lap and fill her wine glass. Another servant placed a bowl of thin red soup in front of her. She eyed the large spoonful of thick soured cream floating on top and cast a questioning look at Victor.
He paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth and smiled at her. “It is Borsch, beet and cabbage soup, traditionally a peasant dish , but one of Dimitry’s favorites.”
She took a small spoonful and tasted it. The tart taste thrilled her taste buds.
When Victor cleared his throat she glanced up. He smiled at her and then fixed his gaze on his cousin. Dimitry ignored him and continued to eat.
She bowed her head over her bowl and spooned up the soup, watching out of the corner of her eye.
Victor stared at Dimitry, but the man’s attention seemed focused only on his dinner. He cleared his throat again, louder this time.
Dimitry raised his eyebrow. “Is there something caught in your throat?”
“No.”
“That is good.” Dimitry put down his spoon and signaled for his attending servant to fill his wine glass.
Victor frowned, and focused his attention on her. “So princess, have you ever been to Russia bef ore?”
She looked up from her bowl and smiled. “No. Well, at least I do not believe I have ever been out of England.”
Dimitry fixed her with a doubtful look. “And yet you are engaged to a Frenchman?”
“I am? I am afra id I cannot remember. The physician said it might be a while
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