Natalya reached for Tristan’s hand. ‘I would like him to stay. Lord Dalmorren rescued me from my abductors. I have no secrets from him.’
‘Thank you, my love.’ His smile warmed her. He kissed her fingers and pulled her hand on to his arm before turning back to the Prince. ‘I believe, your Serene Highness, that, as her grandfather, I must apply to you for Natalya’s hand in marriage.’
‘My grandfather!’
The Prince inclined his head. ‘It is true, Natalya. I was about to explain when Lord Dalmorren burst in so unceremoniously. Prince Mikhail Nikolayevich Borkusov was my son.’
Natalya turned to stare up at Tristan.
‘You discovered this? But how?’
‘My secretary was waiting in George Street for me, the day I brought you back to Bath. I had asked him to look into a possible link with the Russian Embassy. I remembered Mrs Grisham saying that Mrs Pridham had a relative working in one of the Embassies. It was a slim chance, but it made sense, when I considered your name and the fact that Pridham insisted you should take an interest in Russian events. Denham turned up several possibilities, young diplomats working in London at the time of your birth. I went to see Mrs Ancrum. What she told me sent me to London to confirm the details with Welbeck Street.’
‘The Russian Embassy,’ said the Prince.
Tristan shook his head. ‘No. I visited the Russian church. There I was shown the records.’ He looked at her. ‘I found evidence of your birth, Natalya, as well as the record of your mother’s death. And, more importantly for you, perhaps, your father’s name. From the entry concerning their marriage.’
‘M-marriage?’ She gripped his arm tighter as his face swam before her eyes, then she blinked the tears away and saw he was smiling down at her.
‘Yes, my darling. Elizabeth married her lover, months before you were born.’
‘Then I am not...’ She swallowed and turned to look at the Prince. ‘I am not...’
‘No, Natalya, you are my son’s lawful child. My grandchild.’ He stepped closer and held out one white hand. ‘I have no other surviving children. You are the last of my bloodline, Natalya. I have come to take you back to Russia with me, to take your rightful place. Princess Natalya Mikhailovna Borkusova.’
Natalya is a princess!
A chill ran down Tristan’s spine. The announcement should not have come as a surprise. He knew Natalya’s lineage, which was how he had known where to find her, but the reality of it did not hit him until the Prince took Natalya’s nerveless hand and lifted it to his lips. Only then did he understand the implications of her status.
The Prince had stepped back and was regarding them both.
‘Perhaps we should all sit down and take a glass of wine.’
He rang the bell and Tristan escorted Natalya to a chair. He stood beside her, as if on guard, while a liveried servant entered, carrying a tray. When wine had been served, and the servant withdrawn, he and the Prince sat down.
‘Perhaps, your Serene Highness, you will tell us what your plans are for Miss—for the Princess?’
‘Princess Natalya will assume her rightful place as my granddaughter and my heir with immediate effect. The Allied Sovereigns leave England for the Continent on the twenty-second of this month and we shall be in their party.’
‘And what of the Pridhams?’ Natalya asked him.
‘You need consider them no longer.’ The Prince dismissed them with a casual wave of one white hand. ‘Their tenure as your guardians ended when you came of age.’
‘I understand that, but the proprieties,’ she pressed. ‘I will need a chaperon, will I not, if I am to go into society?’
‘Undoubtedly you will enter society. I have arranged it all. While we remain in England, you will join the entourage of the Grand Duchess of Oldenberg.’
Tristan’s brows snapped together. ‘Tsar Alexander’s sister?’
‘Her Imperial Highness has many ladies among her retinue. I have already appointed one who shall act as chaperon and she will accompany the Princess on our tour of Europe and afterwards back to St Petersburg.’ The Prince turned to Natalya and his thin smile appeared. ‘When I said you would take your rightful place, I meant it, my dear. You are beautiful, educated and accomplished, just as your father decreed you should be. I have no doubt you will be fêted at all the courts of Europe. The world will be at your feet.’
The cold icy hand squeezed even tighter around Tristan’s heart. Natalya was staring at him, her face pale. He had to stamp down the urge to cross the room and pull her up into his arms. She was beyond his reach now. As the Prince had said, she had the whole world at her feet. He forced his frozen lips into a smile and raised his glass in salute.
‘Do you hear that, my dear? All your fears about your origins are unfounded. I could not be happier for you. My felicitations, madam. You have a glittering future ahead of you.’
Natalya blinked. She had never heard Tristan sound so uncaring. It shocked her. It was as if he had cut away the ground beneath her feet and she had fallen from a great height. She could not speak, could barely breathe.
The Prince continued to outline all the treats in store for her.
‘We shall visit the capitals of Europe,’ he announced. ‘Undoubtedly, your education has been very good, but there will be omissions and these must now be addressed. I shall show you the greatest treasures and works of art Europe has to offer. You will be presented at all the royal courts and meet princes and emperors. Then I shall escort you to your new home. You must become acquainted with your country, Natalya, with your family. In St Petersburg, there will be balls in your honour. The Tsar has already expressed his wish to meet the daughter of a hero of Borodino.’
With a sob she put up her hand to stop him.
‘Wait, wait. What
