It could, since he reached for her arm as he turned toward the stairs. "Come along, Tati—"
"Wait a minute!" she cut in sharply. "What about my things?"
He didn't even glance back as he continued to pull her along. "Perhaps next time you will do as you are told when you are told."
In other words, she'd lost her chance to take along even a change of clothes. Tanya almost dug in her heels to protest, just for the hell of it, but she'd just as soon have all her possessions here awaiting her return than risk having to leave anything behind with these devils when the opportunity came to part company with them. She was aware, however, that Stefan thought he was getting some subtle revenge by denying her. So let him think it.
But there was one other matter she had to take care of. It wouldn't hurt to have a little help in getting away from these men, and only Dobbs could supply that by sending someone after her. He couldn't do that if he didn't even know she was gone. And he wouldn't have heard all of the commotion in the hallway to alert him that something was wrong, because it was his habit to sleep right after he finished his breakfast. This he did like a dead man until The Seraglio opened for business in the late afternoon. If he had heard anything, he'd be yelling to find out what was going on.
Tanya dug in her heels this time. "You have to let me at least say goodbye to Dobbs."
He didn't stop, and she was jerked along despite her efforts to hold him back. "Why?" he demanded. "He lied about you, without even knowing why we sought you. That man is no friend of yours."
"I know it, but he's still the closest thing I've ever had to a relative."
"Not anymore."
He said that so automatically, it had a ring of truth that disconcerted her. Lord help her, he was a convincing liar, but she wasn't fooled.
"Let me guess," she sneered. "I suppose you'll tell me now that you are a relative of mine?"
He had her halfway down the stairs, and still didn't even glance back to answer. "We share a common ancestor, five generations removed. We are, in fact, very, very distant cousins."
"And I believe that about as much as I do the rest of what you've told me. You're afraid to let me tell Dobbs I'm leaving."
"I believe he would try to prevent your going, yes. You are, after all, of great service to him, aren't you? A slave without the cost. Very convenient for the man. "
She'd thought the same thing herself when she had become old enough to realize that Dobbs didn't have any right to demand so much from her. Now she was his housekeeper, maid, cook, laundress, nurse, and — for the tavern — manager, clerk, purchasing agent, waitress, sometimes bartender and dancer, and as Stefan and his friends would have it, a whore when she had the time. When, she'd like to know, did she ever have any spare time? But she was finally going to be paid for a whole life of servitude — with The Seraglio.
However, if these men had their way, she was going to lose that, and her freedom as well. They intended to make her a whore in truth. Well, there was no way she was going to let that happen.
They were halfway across the common room when Stefan paused, perhaps realizing that, for the sake of the pretense, he'd been a bit harsh. "If you do have friends you would like to bid farewell to, and they live close by, I suppose we could spare a moment or two for goodbyes."
Friends? The only friends she'd ever had were barmaids, and that was before she'd become their boss. But that wasn't the kind of friends she believed he was referring to, for she'd never felt close to any of them. Only Lelia could she call an actual friend, and that had been for a very short time a long time ago.
"There's no one," she said, her answer immediately saddening her since she'd never really thought about this lack in her life before.
"Not even a lover you are particularly fond of?" Stefan persisted.
Anger instantly replaced her sadness. "Oh, too many. Do we have all day?"
She got jerked along again for that piece of sarcasm, and could have kicked herself when she saw the carriage and the rest of the men, who were going to do all they could to prevent her escape, standing ready to surround her. Couldn't she have named someone, even one of Dobbs' old cronies, instead of trying to get in a dig to annoy Stefan? Great going, missy., Why don't you just help with this abduction? You couldn't be making it any easier for them if you tried.
Chapter 13
"For God's sake, Stefan, have her do something with her damn hair," Vasili said the moment they were all settled in the carriage. "She looks like a slattern. "
"Neat and smudged, my friend? Is that the effect we're looking for?" Stefan asked, his tone so dry it wouldn't soak up water.
Tanya went one better. She was angry enough at the look of disgust Vasili had shot at her to sit forward and shake her head vigorously, sending her hair first into Lazar's lap, then into Stefan's, making it messier than it had been. Stefan sat on one side of her, and Lazar,
who sat on the other, burst into laughter. Serge held his mouth tightly and stared up at the ceiling. Vasili flushed and looked out the window, ignoring her if he couldn't improve her, but oh, how nice it was, she thought, to see someone else turn pink for a change.
Stefan, however, gathered the entire cascade of her hair into his hands and began to salvage whatever pins still clung to it. When he had them all, he held them out to her.
"Would you mind, Tatiana?" Her mutinous expression told him she would. He shrugged. "Since I brought it down, I suppose I could put it back up."
Have him perform such an intimate task for her? She swiped the pins from his one hand, then her hair from the other. Lazar continued to laugh, so she sent him a furious glance, which didn't affect him in the least.
"Who would have thought there would be so much of it, rolled up in that little bun you sported," Lazar commented, still grinning. "Your mother had golden hair, I'm told. I never met her myself, but Stefan did. He was there at your betrothal, I believe. He could probably even describe her for you, if you asked him."
"I'm not interested in that fairy tale, so don't continue it for my sake."
"What's this?" Vasili turned to ask. "You mean she still doubts who she is?"
"There's no doubt about it, mister," Tanya answered before anyone else could, as she worked at putting her hair back in order. "You men have to be halfwits if you think I believe any of the nonsense I've heard today."
"Is that so, wench? Then how do you explain that mark upon your arse?" he sneered crudely.
"Ask Stefan," was all she said, despising even conversation with that disdainful peacock.
All eyes turned to Stefan. Even Lazar leaned around Tanya to hear the explanation. Stefan actually smiled.
"She thinks one of us is adept at climbing trees to peek through secondstory windows."
Vasili snorted. "Much too undignified."
"Speak for yourself, Vasili." Lazar grinned. "I for one see some definite merit in such an endeavor — if the view is interesting enough. "
"You are more likely to be climbing out of windows, rather than up to them."
Tanya was surprised to hear Vasili sneering at someone other than herself. A glance to the side showed that Stefan was clearly amused at the turn the conversation had taken. Tanya wasn't. Everything seemed to be either amusing jokes or ridicule to them, with no middle ground. How was she supposed to deal with that? Hopefully not for long.
She gave a last pat to her bun, not caring if it was crooked, and looked out the window to determine how much time she still had. Not much. They were nearing the docks now. Another minute or two...
The one thing she couldn't risk was getting on that riverboat with them. With so many other people about, Stefan was sure to have her locked away in a cabin where she couldn't talk to anyone. It was amazing that he was taking the chance that she would remain quiet and docile. Did he really think she would stick to a bargain when her freedom was involved?