Marby snapped his fork down. “I say!”
“No, no, do not be offended, my friend,” said Belozersky. “Think—what would you do with a soul?”
“Pay no attention to him, James,” called Alexandra. “Only remember the time Newton failed to place first in the Gold Cup. Surely anyone who sufferedthatmuch over a horse race has a soul.”
Marby went red and Wolfgang, even as miserable as he was, stifled a laugh. “They’re baiting you, Marby. Both of them. Don’t rise to it.”
When Belozersky grinned and brushed a lock of hair off Charlotte’s shoulder, Wolfgang realized it was advice he ought to take himself. It was either that or reach across the table and throttle a member of the Russian aristocracy.
Belozersky flashed his teeth at Wolfgang. “You are not in good spirits this evening, Your Grace?”
“I’m in perfectly good spirits,” said Wolfgang. Which was true,because it pleased him to stare at the heavy crystal chandelier dangling over Belozersky and imagine it crashing down on the prince’s head.
The dowager seemed to be having an excellent time as well. As usual, she was keeping only the vaguest eye on her charge, this time because she was engrossed in the snifter of clear liquid that the prince had poured for her.
“Vodka, did you say?” The dowager gave her glass a hesitant sniff. “I admit I’ve tried a scotch or two before, but nothing quite like this.”
“I shall show you how we drink in St. Petersburg?”
“Please do!”
The prince raised his glass, said “Na zdorovie!” and tossed his head back to down the whole measure at once.
The dowager was rather more cautious. She sniffed the vodka again and held the glass up to her mouth to take a tiny mouse sip, shivering violently when the liquor hit her lips.
“Gran?” Charlotte asked, after a minute passed and the dowager sat unmoving, with her eyes screwed shut. “Gran, are you all right?”
The dowager unscrewed her eyes and beamed. “Perfectly! Your Highness, this liquor of yours is quitewarming! How much did you say you brought?”
“I travel always with two crates.”
“How lovely!” The dowager turned to Wolfgang. “Your Grace, have you tried vodka?”
It took some effort, but Wolfgang unclenched his jaw. “Naturally, my lady.”
“You have not triedmyvodka.” The prince leaned back in his chair and his borzoi, Valentina, nosed up to the table and nuzzled his fingers. “We shall drink, Your Grace?”
“Certainly.”
“Glasses for everyone!” called the prince.
Lady Skeffington tittered. “Notquitefor everyone. Georgiana and I will abstain, of course.”
“Shall I pour, Your Highness?” Lawrence asked, when a footman returned with a tray of snifters.
“No, no, I shall do the honors.”
The prince doled out a small measure of vodka for each of the guests, but when he reached the last snifter he tipped the bottle and let the vodka glug until it nearly spilled over the brim. “This one is for you, Your Grace.”
It was a challenge, clear and simple.
“Excellent,” said Wolfgang. “I assume you’ll join me?”
“But of course.”
Miss Marby frowned. “Is this wise, my lords?”
“No, it certainly isn’t!” Charlotte snapped down her knife and fork and glared at both of them. “Nothing ruins an evening faster than a pair of drunks.”
