Natalya Read Online Free Page B

and a mad urge to giggle, interceded. "Natalya's situation is not what you think, Mr. St. James. She is unmarried by choice, and supports herself independently. Her first novel will be published in England next month."
    Natalya glared at him, nostrils flaring. "Not that it is any of your business, sir."
    "I'm certain I can speak for my sex," he replied, with a straight face, "in mourning the fact that you have chosen to deprive some fortunate man of sharing a lifetime with a woman as warm and charming as you, my dear Miss Beauvisage."
    Desperate for something, anything, to say before his niece lunged across the table and assaulted their guest, Nicholai heard himself remark, "Talya is longing to return to Philadelphia, but I don't know how we'll ever get her there as long as this war, and the war between England and America, continues."
    "I wish I were in Philadelphia right now," Natalya declared.
    "To tell you the truth, so do I," Grey said, with heavy irony.
    "Well, I wouldn't want to be there if you were there!"
    "For heaven's sake, stop it," scolded Lisette. "Natalya, I don't know what went on between you two before Nicholai came home, but whatever it was, you must put it aside while we are all at the dinner table. Mr. St. James is our guest. If you cannot be friendly, at least be civil."
    As their plates were cleared, a dish of cheese and fruit and a bottle of calvados appeared on the table. Natalya pressed her lovely lips together and folded her hands in her lap.
    "Grey, perhaps now might be a good time to tell us what has brought you to Chateau du Soleil, and how I may help you," Nicholai said.
    St. James sat back in his chair and sipped the fiery brandy made from Norman apples. "My story is a long one, but I will try to confine it to the pertinent facts. I was the commander of one of Britain's finest warships until it was captured, and I was taken prisoner. I was considered a prize, because I am a cousin to Wellington..."
    "And quite a favorite of the regent's, as I recall," Nicholai said.
    Grey nodded. "Yes, he and my cousin have both tried to have me freed, which has only whetted Napoleon's interest in me. He sees me as a bargaining chip—and came to see me in my prison at Mont St. Michel this past autumn. He took an immediate dislike to me, no doubt in part because I am at least a foot taller than he is. At any rate, he gave orders that I was to be guarded more carefully than any other prisoner, and that if the Allies should win the war, I must be shot."
    Natalya took a sip of her calvados, trying not to listen, determined that nothing would soften her heart toward this man.
    "I won't go into the details of how I managed to escape. Suffice it to say that, as rumors continued to reach the prison regarding the imminent end of the war, many of the regular routines were forgotten. Meanwhile, the warden, a brutish man named Jules Auteuil, taunted me with promises of my death. When I escaped he followed me, he and his henchman. No doubt he thinks I'll lead him to Wellington! They were the men who came to your door today. I couldn't risk even the slightest chance that they'd discover me, so I... well, I threatened Miss Beauvisage and your maid with death if they betrayed me." He smiled tentatively at Natalya, who refused to meet his eyes. "I fear that she'll never forgive me for frightening her so cruelly."
    "You're quite right," she murmured.
    "That's an amazing story," Nicholai said slowly. "Now that you have found a safe haven, what do you want to do next?"
    St. James looked at him with keen gray eyes. "Like your niece, I am determined to get out of France. Perhaps I might be able to deliver both of us safely to England. From there I could arrange passage to America for Miss Beauvisage, but it would mean spending several days in my company. She would doubtless consider that a fate worse than death." He looked across the table at Natalya, whose heart had begun to pound, and arched an eyebrow. "It's madness for me even to