“What are you doing in here?” Sergei demanded, five minutes before Adele was about to serve breakfast.
Darcy instantly stepped around the cutting table, blocking Sergei’s path towards Adele. “It isn’t what it looks like,” she said quickly, trying to diffuse Sergei’s anger before it could explode. She had vivid memories of being caught in the kitchen as a child and her father raging violently at the cooks who weren’t able to defend themselves against his large hands.
Sergei looked down at her terrified expression and was instantly alert that something was very wrong. “It looks like you’re helping make breakfast,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for her to confirm or deny the observation.
Darcy was confused and looked back at Adele, who only raised her eyebrows at Darcy’s defense. “You don’t mind?” she asked softly, urgently.
“Mind?” He watched her, wondering why she would ask such an odd question. Dismissing her, he looked over her shoulder at Adele. “The supplies you requested weren’t available but my assistant is sending in what she considers acceptable substitutes,” was all he said. With another curious look at Darcy, he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll have coffee on the patio. Care to join me?” he called out.
Darcy was stunned for a long moment, wondering if he really wanted her company, or if he was simply offering to be polite. He didn’t strike her as a very polite person. But nor did she think he particularly wanted her company.
Adele solved the issue by placing the tray of fruit in her hands. “Go have coffee. I’ll bring out the rest in a few minutes,” was all she said, smiling slightly as if she sensed some sort of joke that Darcy hadn’t heard.
Darcy walked out to the patio and looked around, noting that Sergei was sitting in his usual spot reading a newspaper. “How do you get the papers each morning?” she asked, putting the platter onto the table and taking a slice of kiwi as she sat down.
“It’s delivered by boat along with the other supplies,” he said without looking up.
She considered this news carefully. A ship? Arriving each morning? She’d have to investigate that a little bit more, she thought as she served herself some mango and pineapple chunks.
“It won’t help,” he said softly.
“Help what?” she asked.
“You won’t be able to sneak onto the ship. I guarantee it,” he said with amusement.
She was irritated that he had so easily read her mind, even without looking up from his newspaper. “I wasn’t even considering it,” she argued.
“Yes you were. I could feel the wheels in your mind turning as you tried to figure out what time the boat arrived each morning and how you might be able to hide yourself somewhere on it.”
She sat back in a huff. “Well, if our positions were reversed, wouldn’t you be doing the exact same thing?” she demanded.
“Absolutely. You’d be a fool not to try and escape. But I’ve taken precautions to ensure that you’re here for as long as it takes to find that idiot my sister wants to marry.”
She listened to his words, feeling a bit more comfortable now that he at least was able to consider her side of the situation. “Why would you be trying to find this guy if you don’t like him so much? And why on earth would your sister want to marry someone who is so disloyal?”
He dropped his paper and looked across the table at her. “It has nothing to do with my sister now. It has become a matter of family honor. He has disgraced my sister and will pay for this insult,” he said softly.
Darcy reacted to those words as if he’d just slapped her. That attitude was so familiar, she’d heard it often from her father as he railed against one person or another during meals. Family honor was something to be guarded against at all costs, she knew.
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” she asked, barely able to get the words past her constricted throat.
Sergei was astonished that she would even come up with an idea. “Kill him?” he asked. But looking at her pale face, the tense lips and stiff shoulders, he understood that this was no idle question. She was completely serious. “I don’t kill people,” he said firmly. “What would give you such an idea?”
She nodded in acceptance of his answer, quick, jerky movements of her head simulating that she’d heard, but the fear, the gut wrenching horror that had gripped her as she’d been thrown back in history, would take a bit more time to ease. “Thank you,” she said and placed her fork carefully beside her plate, her back stiff and taut.
Adele chose that moment to bring out the eggs Benedict, along with fresh asparagus, placing it proudly in the middle of the table beside the fruit. Manuel was right behind her with two different pitchers of freshly squeezed juice, explaining one was strawberry juice and the other tangerine. Both of them were in smaller, quaint little pitchers. Darcy picked up the tangerine juice and poured some into his glass, placing it carefully to the right of his plate. She then lifted the eggs and passed them to Sergei, who automatically took them, his eyes carefully watching her every movement. It was like she’d turned into a robot and he wasn’t sure what had happened to the animated woman who had danced up to the table five minutes ago.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Darcy smiled politely and picked up the coffee urn, re-filling his half empty cup. “Of course. Thank you very much for asking.”
She placed one of the poached eggs onto her plate, then proceeded to cut the meal into precise, bite sized squares, then pushed the food around on her plate. Sergei watched, wondering if she was going to actually eat any of the food, or simply push it around until it formed whatever pattern she finally decided upon.
Sergei helped himself to the fruit and eggs, eating them carefully, all the while watching to see if she might reveal what had upset her so much. But he couldn’t figure it out. Had she truly considered he might kill someone? What kind of ludicrous idea was that? He wouldn’t allow the man to escape unscathed though. There would definitely be a penalty for insulting him and his family, but the issue would be financial and not violent.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she asked and stood up without waiting for his response. He watched with concern as she pushed back her chair and practically ran from the patio, disappearing down the path towards the beach. He considered going after her, but something told him she needed to be alone, to work out whatever was bothering her.