Forever in Your Embrace by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss Page A

probably been instrumental in starting in the first place. To hear it again reawakened Synnovea’s resentment.
    “How long did you say your mother has been dead?”
    “Five years,” Synnovea replied in a strained whisper.
    “Speak up, please,” Anna snapped, ignoring how trite and petulant it might seem for one of her standing to act in such an acrimonious manner, but she had never asked for the girl to come and live in her home. And she most certainly didn’t want her here. “I can barely hear what you’re saying. And I don’t like being kept waiting for a reply either. You’re not backward, so stop acting as if you were. In the future I must insist that you pay heed to whatever is being said and be more punctual with your response. Is that too much to ask?”
    “No, Princess.” Synnovea’s reply came readily enough and was spoken in a clear tone, but the task of suppressing a freshening ire was a hard-won victory. Still, she knew the folly of being drawn into a quarrel with the princess.
    “That’s better!” Anna set her goblet aside and rose to her feet as Boris led the soldiers downstairs again. Synnovea followed her example, and Anna made haste to dismiss her. “I’m sure you’ll want to refresh yourself before the dinner hour. Boris can show you to your chambers.”
    Though the woman turned to leave, Synnovea saw the necessity in delaying her. “I pray a moment more of your time, Princess, if you wouldn’t mind.”
    Anna faced her again with brows sharply elevated over cool gray eyes. “Yes, Synnovea? What is it?”
    “I brought some of my servants with me to attend my needs while I’m here, and I must arrange a place for them to stay. If you have room to house them here, that would serve my purposes well. My coach and horses should also be stabled if there is enough space.”
    Anna’s thin lips twisted in vexation. “You’ve taken much upon yourself if you think to keep them here. There’s little enough room for your maid in your chambers without expecting us to house your coachmen and equipage as well. You’d better send them back to Nizhni Novgorod. You won’t be needing them while you’re living here with us.”
    “Then if you’d allow my coachmen to rest here for the night,” Synnovea replied with far more cordiality, “I shall make other arrangements on the morrow. I shouldn’t like to be without my coach while I’m here and thereby impose an inconvenience upon you whenever I have need of it.”
    Synnovea fervently desired to live in peace with the Taraslovs, at least until she could disentangle herself from their protection and become her own mistress, but if it meant being imprisoned within the confines of their home and permitted to venture out only at their whim, she knew she wouldn’t be able to endure such restrictions for very long. She wasn’t a child, and she didn’t believe it was Tsar Mikhail’s intent for his cousin to treat her like one.
    “And just where do you think you’ll keep them?” Anna challenged acidly.
    Though Synnovea knew her suggestion would prick the woman to the core, it was a far more acceptable alternative than what Anna had in mind. “I’m sure Natasha will permit me to use her carriage house while I’m here. She lives only a short distance away.”
    “I know where she lives!” Anna snapped, offended by the girl’s efforts to instruct her. Her inability to present a plausible excuse by which she could fortify an outright denial of the girl’s petition only deepened her resentment, yet Anna knew the foolishness of testing her cousin’s sense of fairness.
    It was a rare event indeed when Anna acceded to anyone but Tsar Mikhail’s dictates. Even then, she had a strong aversion to accepting his will over her own, a fact which she kept prudently to herself. By disguising her reversal now as submission to her husband’s authority, she hoped to save face. Fairly soon she’d take her revenge by demanding enormous remunerations for the