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down and had a moment of dizziness and stubbornly refused to faint. I climbed out of the sleigh, averting my eyes from the bloody corpses on the road. I still felt lightheaded,

and my knees threatened to buckle. As small

tremors swept through me I bit my lower lip, determined not to give way to them, particularly as I had bragged only a short while ago about being so bloody brave and intrepid and not turning into jelly at the first sign of danger.

"Is-is the horse all right?" I asked.

"Still frightened. He'll calm down in a few minutes."

"Good," I said.

And then the blackness swept over me all at once and I felt myself swaying and when I opened my eyes Jeremy was sitting on the snow and his arms were supporting me, holding me against his chest, and my legs were sprawled·

out, skirts all atangle. He looked concerned, then relieved when he saw my lashes fluttering. I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment as another wave of weakness washed over me. His left arm tightened around me. He stroked my hair with his right hand.

"Don't try to talk, love. Just rest for a moment."

"I didn't faint," I murmured.

"No?"

"Just-I haven't had enough to eat and I was weak and-I didn't actually faint. My knees were shaky andsilly, helpless women faint and I'm-"

"You're so blooming brave," he said, "so blooming stubborn

and scrappy. I almost fainted myself when I saw you keel over. I barely caught you in time, lost my balance, landed smack on my backside again. It's taken quite a beating of late."

"And it's such a lovely backside-so flat and firm."

"I'm glad you like it. At the moment it's growing numb with cold. Do you think you can stand now?"

I nodded, extremely optimistic, and Jeremy climbed up and pulled me up and held me as my knees wobbled. He helped me back into the sleigh, then gave me a drink of water from one of the canteens, and I began to feel better.

II

The color returned to my cheeks with a warm flush and my I

--~~_.--=j

head cleared and I felt extremely foolish as he peered at me with tender concern. Foolish, yes, but wonderful as well, as I saw the love in those expressive blue eyes.

"I –I guess I'm not as tough as I thought I was," I said.

"You'll do until something better comes along," he told me, "and the chances of that happening are slim indeed. I really think you ought to have a swallow of vodka, love."

"No, thank you!"

Jeremy smiled and brushed a damp tendril of hair from my temple. "I'm going to give the horse the rest of the water in this canteen, feed it some more oats. We'll rest for

a bit before we get started again."

He poured water into his palm and let the horse lap it up, and then, after more oats, presented it with a long orange carrot he'd pulled from one of the food bags. I asked

him why he'd brought carrots and he told me that he'd stolen

into one of the cook houses in camp with the two cloth bags and simply grabbed everything in sight: carrots, potatoes,

apples, onions, cheese, sausage links, dried beef, bread, two chickens.

"Chickens?" I said.

"Cleaned and gutted and frozen solid, love. Still frozen haven't

had a chance to thaw in this weather. I thought we might have an opportunity to cook them over a fire."

"Next time," I said, "steal coffee."

."You're getting grumpy again. Must be feeling better.'"

"Much better. How's your backside?"

"Flat and firm," he said. "I have it on the best authority.

We'd better get started, love, and we'd better get off this main road. There's a back road that runs parallel to it half a mile or so to the west. I'm sure we have nothing to worry about, but there's no sense taking chances."

He was referring to the peasants. Pugachev would most certainly have sent a band of them after us.

"They-they're behind us, aren't they?"

"They undoubtedly left first thing this morning," he said casually, "but we drove all night, made good time, have several hours' head start. They're not going to catch up with us, love."

His voice was confident, his manner unperturbed, but I wondered if he wasn't just trying to keep me from worrying.

Before we started off he carefully reloaded all three rifles and the pistol, handing the letter to me, saying I might like to keep it at my side. A few moments later, snugly bundled under the blankets and fur rug, we set off again through the bleak gray afternoon. I was still sore from my exertions with the reins, still shaken from our encounter

with the wolves, but I felt strangely serene nevertheless.

After the wolves, anything else would seem mild, and with Jeremy at my side I felt I could easily face any danger.

I linked my arm through his, resting my head against his shoulder. It began to snow lightly.

"I –I should never have left you in London, Jeremy," I said quietly. "I don't know if-if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for leaving you in order to-to go to Derek."

"It was something you had to do, Marietta. That's why I let you leave. As long as you thought you loved another man, things would never be right between us."

"You were certain I'd come back?"

"Positive."

"I was such a fool-such a fool."

"You were merely confused, love."

"I think I loved you from the very beginning," I told him. "I just didn't know it, and-and when I finally saw what was in my own heart and realized that you were-you were everything to me, I could hardly contain my joy. I kept urging Ogilvy to drive faster, faster so we could reach London that night, and that was when we had the accident."

"The driver was killed, wasn't he?"

I nodded. "And I would probably have died, too, ifOrlov hadn't come along when he did. He took me to the inn and fetched a doctor and-and he and Lucie took care of me.

When I was finally well enough to go on to London you weren't there, and-"

And as the snow floated down in soft, lazy flakes I told him how I carne to be in Russia, told him everything that had happened, omitting only that night at Count Rostopchin's when I had finally succumbed to Orlov. I told him about Lucie and Bryan, about Catherine and Potemkin and the bargain I had made with Orlov and the part I had played in Lucie's elopement, and the snow was corning

down much heavier when I finally reached the part about Orlov's frenzy and his abducting me, bringing me to his country estate.

"He went completely out of his mind, Jeremy. He did nothing but sit in the drawing room, drinking, talking to himself, and then his brothers carne and they all went charging off and-"

I told him about Mitya and Grushenka, and my voice began

to shake as I told him about my shooting Vladimir on the stairs, about our flight through the woods and what had happened in the clearing. Jeremy was silent, sober, saying nothing for a long time, and then, in a very serious voice, he promised me that we would never be separated again. It was snowing hard now, corning down in fluffy sheets of whirling flakes. Another half an hour must have passed before Jeremy finally turned down the narrow side road that led through the woods. The road was rough and uneven, icy tree limbs hanging low. I was relieved when we reached the back road which, while not much wider, was considerably smoother.

Another hour went by, and with each minute the snow grew thicker, icier, the flakes stinging our cheeks now like tiny insect bites, and I began to remember stories of Russian

blizzards and travelers trapped in them and freezing to death. Jeremy was worried, too, though he tried his best not to show it. He gripped the reins, tense, leaning forward on the seat, his mouth tight. I shivered under the blankets.

It had turned much colder. A strong wind had corne up. My throat was tight as Jeremy urged the horse to plod on through what was fast turning into one ofthe dreaded blizzards

I had heard about.

"We've got to find a place to stop," he said grimly.

"I –I know."

"Lots of hunters in these parts. There's certain to be a hut or a shed or something. Keep your eyes open."

Another thirty minutes passed, and the snow was so bad now the horse could barely move, staggering along as the wind blew and the icy snow stung. Visibility was almost nil, the world a swirling chaos of spinning white, sleet mixing with the snow now, needle sharp. I peered through the pelting curtains, hardly able to see the trees, and I almost

missed the hut set back fifty feet from the road. I pulled Jeremy's arm and pointed. He squinted and nodded,

looking vastly relieved as he tugged on the reins and turned up the pathway through the trees.

The hut was low and square and made of rough logs, with a sturdy roof and, surprisingly enough, thick glass windows. The logs were coated with ice, giving them a silvery

brown sheen, and an enclosed shed was attached to the hut in back. We stopped in front as snow turned to sleet

and pelted .down in a battering fury. Jeremy leaped out and started unfastening the harness and ordered me to get

inside at once. I grabbed the food bags, the pistol, and one

of the canteens and, head lowered to avoid the treacherous

sleet, hurried toward the door and threw it open, relieved to find it unlocked. I put everything down and ran back out to fetch more items from the sleigh, grabbing up blankets, a rifle and two more canteens, carrying them inside as Jeremy

led the horse around the side of the hut.

The sleet was banging against the windows like hail. I found an old oil lamp on a wooden shelf nailed to the wall and lighted it with one of the matches I found in a box beside

it. As the circle of light spread, I saw the crude stone fireplace with a large iron pot suspended over it, a pile of wood on the hearth. There was a cot, a wooden chair, an ancient wooden chest painted with stylized orange and blue birds and yellow tulips, now sadly faded, and a shaggy bearskin rug was spread out in front of the fireplace.

The bear must have been enormous, I thought,

judging from the size of the rug. By the time Jeremy came in with the rest of the things, I had a fire started in the fireplace,

and I was examining the chest, delighted to find that it contained four wooden bowls and battered tin spoons and a tiny dish of salt.

Jeremy put the blankets and rifles down and bolted the door, looking thoroughly exhausted. The wind was howling.

I was fearful the sleet would break the glass windows.

"It's-rather cozy," I said. "Obviously built by a relatively prosperous hunter or perhaps a bailiff from one of the big estates. We were lucky to find it."

"Lucky indeed," he said wearily. "I was beginning to worry, love. We'd never have made another hour in this storm. I put the horse in the shed, gave him the rest of the oats and spread the fur rug over him. He'll be fine. The floor of the shed is covered with hay."

The fire was blazing now, filling the hut with lovely warmth, and the water I had emptied into the old iron pot was beginning to bubble. I tossed the frozen chickens into it and asked Jeremy for his knife. He handed it to me, a sleepy look in his eyes, and a few minutes later he was curled up on the pile of blankets, fast asleep as I peeled potatoes

and carrots and sliced them and tossed them into the pot along with chopped onions. Jeremy was tangled up

in the blankets and snorting in his sleep when, two hours later, I gently nudged him with the toe of my boot. He sat up with a start, blinking, looking quite belligerent.

"What! What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, darling. I just thought you might enjoy a nice bowl of hot stew."

"Stew?" He seemed amazed. "You made stew?"

"I had all the ingredients-even salt. It's delicious. I've sampled it already. Rich, thick broth, lots of chicken and vegetables. "

Jeremy rubbed his eyes. "You're a wonder, love, Hot stew in the middle ofthe Russian wilderness, in the middle of a blizzard."

"The blizzard's over. It stopped sleeting over an hour ago. It's snowing lightly now. Poor darling, you were so exhausted

you dropped right off to sleep."

I had placed more wood on the fire, and the room was extremely warm. I had removed the gray mink cloak some time before, and Jeremy shrugged out of his sheepskin coat. The hat had fallen off in his sleep, and his thick chestnut

hair was all atumble. His shirt was moist with perspiration, clinging to his skin. The vivid red scarf tied around his neck was limp. He was still groggy, looking about the room as though not absolutely certain where he was.

"I checked on the horse," I said. "The windowsills outside were covered with icicles. I broke them off and brought them in and melted them, and then I carried water out to the horse. He's cozy as can be. I also refilled all the canteens," I added.

"As I said, you're a wonder-and gorgeous with your hair spilling about your shoulders, in that velvet gown."

"My hair must be a mess, and the gown's quite the worse for wear-it's dreadfully soiled and the hem's torn and-"

"You've never been more beautiful than you are at this moment, love, and I'm beginning to feel extremely amorous."

"You'd better eat," I said. "You need to build up your strength."

"Yes, guess I do. I've got a feelin' I'm going to need all my strength."

I smiled and handed him a bowl of stew, a spoon, and a hunk of bread. He ate with gusto, finishing the first bowl before I'd hardly started mine, taking a second bowl, then a third, declaring it sheer ambrosia, the most delicious stew he ever hoped to eat. I told him there was a little left

,and said he might as well finish it off. He did so readily and

then sat nibbling on a piece of cheese as I set bowls, spoons,

and pot aside. He watched me with lazy, seductive eyes, looking for all the world like an indolent, rather scruffy pasha

as he sat there on the pile of blankets, nibbling the cheese.

"About that gown-" he drawled.

"Yes?"

"I think you'd better take it off. It's warm in here, much too warm for a heavy velvet gown. I'm planning to take off a few things myself."