Johanna Lindsey - Once a Princess

Her rage over what they'd done wouldn't go away. And it centered solely on Stefan, even though buying the tavern might have been a collective decision for all she knew. Revenge crossed her mind, but getting even was a new concept to her. She was so used to taking everything dealt her, with no recourse, that she wouldn't even know how to go about retaliating in kind, hurt for hurt. She had promised to shoot Stefan, but of course she hadn't meant that.

She thought about delaying the men some more. Time did seem to be important to them, even though she doubted the reasons given her. She also considered causing dissension among them, though she wasn't sure how that would work when she had yet to see them angry with each other — only with her.

But she couldn't do anything as long as she was locked away with only Stefan. He wouldn't even rise to the bait of her indifference. Not that she wanted him to; fighting with him never gained her anything but frustration.

"If you will change into one of the dresses we acquired for you, you may join us in the saloon for dinner tonight."

Tanya had been pacing and hadn't heard Stefan enter. She stopped now, but she didn't turn toward him. She hadn't even looked at the two dresses he had given her that night in the hotel. She had told him once that she wouldn't accept clothes from them, and she had meant it. She had been washing her own clothes, one item a day so she wouldn't have to strip down completely.

"I will need an answer this time, Princess, or I will assume that you prefer to eat alone again."

She wouldn't prefer that at all. She hadn't even seen the others since they had left Natchez for the second time. And she couldn't very well cause any trouble among them, if that was even possible, when she was kept isolated.

"All right," she said tonelessly, still without looking at him.

"And you will change?"

She glanced at the small trunk that contained the two dresses as well as a number of new items that Stefan had bought for himself in Natchez.

"Why must I?" she asked.

"Because we do not care to be embarrassed again by your mannish attire."

Tanya stiffened. Was he actually back to insulting her? Or was that the kindest way he could express the fact that she looked ridiculous in his waistcoat and shirt? That shouldn't bother her, since she had never in her life dressed to look attractive, but it did coming from Stefan.

"Show me a man wearing a skirt before you call my clothes mannish," she said merely to be disagreeable. "Never mind. I'll wear one of your dresses, but I hope to hell it doesn't fit."

"That is a possibility, in which case you may use your discretion to choose whichever is the least inappropriate."

So this order wasn't set in steel? Then, remembering that Stefan didn't like her to look pretty, she hoped she ended up looking downright beautiful. But that wasn't very likely, considering she hadn't been fitted for either dress, and men weren't very knowledgeable about such things as sizing.

"How much time do I have?"

"Thirty minutes."

"I will need some hair bobs."

"You will have to do without."

"You expect miracles?"

"Just something halfway presentable."

She detected amusement in his answer, but wouldn't look at him to be sure. "Then leave me to it."

"Will you require help with buttons and such?"

"Not from you. But you can send Vasili to escort me. If I do need help, as my betrothed, he can provide it.

The slamming of the door was her answer to that. Tanya smiled for the first time in days. She had forgotten how easy it was to provoke Stefan. She wouldn't forget again.

It was Vasili who showed up to escort her to dinner. But Tanya had made sure she wouldn't need any help with her dress, nearly straining her shoulder muscles twisting about to do up the buttons herself. They could have chosen dresses easier to get in and out of, but she wasn't going to complain. She was too amazed by her appearance to do other than smirk when Vasili looked her over with some amazement of his own.

The two dresses she had to choose from were the same size, one a beige plaid, the other a bright lemon satinet with bishop sleeves and matching shoes. The shoes were a bit small, but both dresses fit her better than she could have hoped, except for one small area— right across her breasts. Obviously the dresses had been bought already made, and for a woman of smaller proportions than she.

The necklines of the dresses were in the favored boat shape, which exposed shoulders, neck, and a great deal of upper chest, sloping to a point just over the breasts. In this case, the point was rather deep on both dresses. A chemisette could have added some becoming lace to the area, but Stefan had said he would forget to include underclothing when he bought her clothes, and whether he actually forgot or intentionally forgot, there was none included with the dresses.

Under normal circumstances, Tanya would have been so selfconscious, she wouldn't have worn either dress. She'd always hidden her breasts under highnecked shirts in thick materials, so they were nearly invisible. Here she was exposing all, so to speak, or at least the upper curves of her breasts, made worse since they were squeezed together because of the tightness of the material in that area. But these weren't normal circumstances. In fact, her first look at herself in the large mirror above the dressing table in the cabin made her think of only one thing. Stefan would see her like this and wouldn't like it at all. And that made her determined to wear the dresses exactly as they were.

She settled on the bright lemon yellow for tonight, simply because its color was so opposite her usual dull ones and went well with her dark hair. Even her dancing costume wasn't as flattering to her figure. And this without benefit of a corset. Tanya was pleased, more than pleased. She'd never known that she could look like this.

There wasn't much she could do with her hair, however, other than tie it back. But she did remove the wide, lace-trimmed ornamental bow at the back of the dress to tie it at her nape instead. She could, of course, have tucked that strip of yellow into her deep décolletage to make the dress a bit more demure. But with Stefan's reaction uppermost in her mind, she didn't even consider it.

She had a few second thoughts about it, however, when Vasili stared overlong at her chest. But the rest of her also underwent a thorough inspection, so she let it pass.

"You look lovely, Princess."

Her brows shot up. "A compliment from you? Are you feeling well, Vasili?"

He laughed and remarked, "You are amusing if nothing else. Now, don't stiffen up on me when I have gone to so much trouble on your behalf." He held out his hand, which contained about a dozen hairpins in several different styles, then confided, "Two women on board now assume I am interested in them, although I regret that I am not. You can't imagine the difficulty that might entail tonight. "

"I wonder why I can't dredge up any sympathy for you," Tanya replied.

He grinned boyishly, and for a moment she saw why women found him so irresistible.

"I believe I have missed your wit, Princess. It was too bad of Stefan to keep you to himself the whole of this voyage."

"Did he send you for these?" She took the pins from his hand.

"He suggested that if we didn't want you looking like a trollop, one of us should make the effort. Naturally, I was elected."

How casually he tossed out that secondhand insult. She ignored it on the surface, but deep down she was stung. She wondered how many other disparaging remarks were made about her when she wasn't around to hear them. Since she heard too many when she was around, she could only imagine that these men never said anything nice about her. Well, she hardly had anything nice to say about them either.

She reached for the bow at her nape. "If you will wait a few—"

"Leave it," he broke in and, at her inquiring look, added, "It is quite fetching as is."

"But after all the trouble you went through to borrow these."

He shrugged. "You can use them tomorrow for our arrival in New Orleans."

Tomorrow? Was that why she was being allowed out of the cabin tonight? Stefan had no doubt decided it was safe enough to let her be around other people since she wasn't likely to see any of them a second time. How much trouble could she cause in so little time, after all? She hoped she could find an opportunity to show them the error of that assumption. Trollop? She might not look like one now, but how hard would it be to act like one?

"Then shall we go?"

This riverboat was smaller than The Lorilie, though it had two decks as well. The dining saloon was on the lower deck, next to a large room devoted strictly to gambling. Passing that room, Tanya realized this was one of the boats referred to as a floating gambling palace. Professional gamblers made their homes on such boats. So did women of ill repute. For a moment she wondered if that wasn't the reason she had been kept isolated, but she dismissed the notion as being too unlikely, particularly when her traveling companions, one and all, thought her reputation couldn't be any worse.

Lazar and Serge were waiting at a table for them. Both stood as she approached. Both bowed slightly as Vasili seated her. Their deference made her uncomfortable, until it occurred to her that it was no more than an act to reinforce the fairy tale. Why they still bothered...

"Is Stefan still at it?" Vasili questioned before he sat down.