Silver Nights by Jane Feather Page B

despot.” He smiled with a tinge of irony. “It is said that she rules with a scale of justice in one hand, a knout in the other. I do not know how true that may be when it comes to personal matters, but I do not believe her to be utterly tyrannical. I do not think she will force you into a marriage you find repugnant.”
    â€œThen why must I go at all?”
    â€œBecause you are the last Golitskov. You cannot remain in obscurity. I have always known it, and the empress has been watching you from your earliest years.” Seeing her puzzlement, he told her of the secret agents and their surveillance.
    â€œWhy would you say nothing of this before?” Sophie, in her bewilderment, saw only betrayal. “You made no attempt to prepare me for—”
    â€œNo, I did not wish to spoil your pleasure in the life you led,” he said sadly. “I was perhaps in error, but I did it for the best.” He went to the secretaire and drew out the strongbox again. “I will not send you into that world without some armor. You will have Boris Mikhailov. If you are in distress, or have need of anything, you will send him to me with a message. He understands that. He will serve you, not your husband.” Sophie listened, feeling some measure of comfort. “Here are the Golitskov jewels. They also belong solely to you.” The prince laid upon the desk a silver casket, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. “If you have need of money once youare married, these will supply you, and you have my permission to use them however and whenever you feel the need.”
    She knew what the casket contained—gems worth some three hundred thousand rubles. They had been in the Golitskov family for generations, and this extraordinary blanket permission to use the inheritance as she saw fit destroyed her moment of comfort as it somehow underscored her own unfocused terror. She looked at her grandfather in blank distress.
    â€œLastly,” he said quietly, “as I said to you this morning, Berkholzskoye will be yours. And it will always be here for you. But first you must go and try this new life, a world in which you should have a part.”
    â€œHow does a wife leave her husband?” Sophie asked. “You tell me I have this option, but I do not know how it could be exercised.”
    â€œIf you should find yourself in such desperate straits that that action should be necessary, you are resourceful enough to find the way with the tools that I have given you,” said the prince. “I have taught you to be resourceful, to look after yourself. Apply the rules of the Wild Lands to the imperial court, ma chère , and you will not go far wrong.”
    Sophie took up the casket. Her grandfather had given her all he could; the rest was up to her. As she walked to the door, he offered one last piece of advice. “Do not engage battle with Adam Danilevski, Sophie.”
    She did not turn, but replied simply, “I do not go willingly and I will not pretend that I do.”
    Prince Golitskov sighed. He had done his best. The two of them must fight it out. In fair combat, they would probably be evenly matched, but this was hardly fair combat.
    Sophie became aware of the soldier of the Imperial Guard as she crossed the hall for the stairs. He was standing beside the front door, his posture that of a sentry. Frowning, still clutching the casket, she went around the house. At every outside door stood a sentry. She went back into the hall. “Excuse me.” With a half smile, she pushed open the door, stepping out onto the gravel driveway. She was not prevented, and the sentry did not move from his post. But as she walked toward the stables, another soldier appeared, keeping pace behind her.
    She swung around on him. “Are you following me?”
    â€œYour pardon, Princess, but the colonel’s orders,” replied the guardsman impassively.
    Sophie stood still, feeling the sun warm on her