“Lower your voice, Duchess. Or you will have more guards on your hands than you would prefer.”
I wiped the tears off my face. “I should find a way to get him to the Crimea, as the doctor suggested. Even if he doesn’t have hepatitis, he would probably like the warmer climate.”
“Are you mad? He must go back where he came from.”
My blood went cold as I realized what he was saying. “No,” I whispered.
“Duchess, look at the poor creature.” The grand duke ran his hand through his hair. “It’s no longer human.”
“Don’t speak of him like that. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
The grand duke shook his head. “Perhaps not, but he can hurt others. He attacked Princess Alix. And the doctor.”
I sighed. I knew deep down he was right. But that didn’t make it any less painful. “Did the princess smell odd to you?” I suddenly asked.
“That is not the point.” He offered his hand to me again, and this time, I took it, standing up with his help.
I looked into the grand duke’s blue eyes, pleading. “Couldn’t we hide him somewhere safe? Where he will not harm anyone?”
“Duchess, where in this entire city would he be safe?” He knew it was breaking my heart. “You know this must be done.”
I sobbed, hating myself, and hating to admit the grand duke might be right. “There must be another way,” I pleaded.
Count Chermenensky was quietly gnawing on something, which, upon closer inspection, appeared to be his own tattered clothing. Mon Dieu.
“He is no longer one of us, Duchess,” the grand duke said in a low voice.
“Mis-tresss,” the count whimpered, apparently not capable of saying much more than that. “Home.”
My heart was breaking for the poor creature, and I deserved every stab and pain I felt. I wished to heaven there was some way I could rid myself of this curse. How many more lives would I ruin? None if I could help it.
“Home,” the count said again in a mournful voice. For an undead soldier, he had been relatively docile, and I wondered how much military action he had actually seen. Since he was the same age as my brother, probably none.
The grand duke stood at the doorway with his hand behind his back. He had his saber drawn and hidden. “Leave, Duchess.”
The count only whimpered and began to nibble on his own hand. “Hungry,” he said. “Home.”
I did not move.
Apparently, the undead count was lucid enough to see what the grand duke was planning. Or perhaps he thought my life was in danger. With a sudden snarl, he leapt up and would have separated the grand duke’s imperial head from his imperial shoulders if the grand duke had not been faster. George Alexandrovich spun out of the count’s way and swung the saber, nicking the count on the ear.
“No!” I cried.
With a howl of pain, Count Chermenensky swung another time at the grand duke, sending him careening into the glass cabinet. The glass shattered all over the floor.
The guards pushed me out of the way as they rushed into the room. “He is mad!” the grand duke shouted, holding his arm, which had a large gash.
Count Chermenensky growled as he saw the guards approach him. They had him backed into a corner like a wild animal. With another snarl, he turned and crashed through the window, landing on the frozen hospital grounds below.
“No!” I cried, running to the window. The count had already scrambled to his feet and dragged himself into the thicket.
The leader of the guards ordered the rest of the men to form a search party and find the missing patient. The Austrian doctor came back to the exam room and was angered when he saw all of the broken glass. “What is the meaning of this?”
As the doctor left the room muttering to himself and yelling for his nurses, Grand Duke George looked at me. “You explain to him. I’ve got to go after Chermenensky.”
“You cannot! Your arm is bleeding!” I reached behind him into a cabinet and pulled out a bundle of gauze and a bottle of iodine. “Let me see that.”
The grand duke frowned. “There’s no time. You know it’s too dangerous to leave that creature running around the city!”
“I know it is too dangerous to let you run off losing blood like this. Give me your arm.” I ignored the short little doctor, who was pitching a fit about regulations in the doorway. The gash on the grand duke’s arm was long. “You are going to have a nasty scar,” I said as I gently held pressure to stop the bleeding.
“All true warriors wear their scars proudly,” he mumbled. “How can I be proud of this one?”
I looked up at him, horrified, as I realized what he meant. “What will your parents say?” I would be sent to Siberia. My whole family would be exiled. If not executed.
He shook his head. “They will know about the count before too long. My father will think that I failed to protect the public from this danger. It is I who fear being sent to Siberia.”
“But … wait. I didn’t express my fears out loud, did I?” I dropped his arm and backed away, suddenly spooked by his silvery faerie eyes. “Can you read my thoughts?”
“Sometimes, when I concentrate.” He winced and grabbed the bandage from me to apply pressure to the bleeding himself. “You are very easy to read. Most of the time.”
I blushed and could think of nothing more to say. When the bleeding had stopped, I cleaned the cut with iodine and wrapped it in gauze for him without saying another word.
The Austrian doctor returned to the room with a suture kit, wishing to sew up the grand duke’s arm. But the grand duke shook his head. “Thank you, this will do, sir. Is my carriage outside?”
The guard behind him nodded.
The grand duke’s face was grim and pale, but he refused any morphine, though I pleaded with the doctor to medicate him. “No, it is not necessary. I thank you for your help. We must hurry, Duchess.”
I quickly followed him into the carriage. “Are we going after the count?” I asked as we drove away from the hospital.
“No, you are going back to Smolny.”
“But what about the count?”
“The guards are searching for him in the woods right now. He will be found soon, no doubt, taken for a madman, and dragged away to the asylum.”
“No.” I could see the grand duke was fighting the pain in his arm. “We can’t abandon him like this. He needs our help.”
“Duchess, I believe you might belong in the asylum as well.” The carriage stopped at the Smolny Institute’s front gate. The brief daylight of winter was already starting to fade. “Good day, Duchess. I hope you enjoyed our carriage ride in the woods this afternoon. My sister tells me she enjoys your company. She hopes you will join us again sometime soon.”
He said this loudly, for Madame Metcherskey was standing in the portico, glaring at me with her pinched mossy-green eyes. I knew whatever punishment the grand duke was going to face, mine would most likely be worse.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I was wrong.
Apparently, being the guest of the tsar’s son gives one special privileges. Madame Metcherskey did not scold me after the grand duke nodded in her direction. She did manage to lecture me about the importance of modern propriety and the dangers of appearing in public without a chaperone, no matter how high-bred a gentleman my companion was. Never mind that we had actually been with chaperones for most of the afternoon. Both living and undead.
By that evening, the entire dining hall had heard that I had skipped dance lessons to visit with the imperial family. Elena pouted, wishing I had asked her to walk with me. I was most glad I had not. She need know nothing about Count Chermenensky. Aurora Demidova asked me if the grand duke let me call him by his Christian name, a sign to her that we were close to being formally engaged. Dariya gave her approval. “A much better choice for you than the crown prince,” she whispered.