The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [8]
“A peasant woman,” one said scornfully in Russian, lifting her shabby padded servant’s coat in his grimy fingers, “you can tell from the smell of her.”
The others laughed raucously. “Dead too, I’ll bet,” said another. “There’s blood all over her … still, just to make sure …”
Missie’s ribs exploded into pain as his kick landed, but fear froze the scream in her throat.
Their footsteps crunched on the frozen snow as they walked away. Holding their blazing torches aloft, they crowded around Anouska. Her blond hair tumbled across the dark sable cape and huge pearls gleamed in her pretty ears and at her neck. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she stared at the half-dozen men surrounding her, her gold-brown velvet gaze taking in their rough looks and peasant attire.
“I recognize you,” Missie heard her say weakly, “you are foresters from the Ivanoff estate. You, Mikoyan, you came to Varishnya with your children for the Easter festivities … and you, Rubakoff, and your brother….”
“Enough!” the man Mikoyan cried. “There will be no more Easter festivals at the Ivanoff estate. It belongs to us now, to the people, the revolutionaries.” He grabbed her silken hair in his filthy callused hand. “And women like you will be for our heroes to enjoy!”
Missie caught the look of pain on Anouska’s face as Mikoyan lifted her head and put his coarse, bearded face close to hers.
“But not before we find out for ourselves what the prince has been enjoying all these years, eh, comrades?”
They laughed as they passed him another bottle, and he let Anouska’s head drop cruelly back into the snow, straddling her, gulping back the fiery liquor until it was finished. After throwing back his head, he hawked the phlegm from his throat and spat it out. Anouska groaned, turning away her bloodied head. Mikoyan flung back her cape and her lovely eyes widened with fear as he slowly fitted the bayonet onto his rifle.
A thin high scream pierced the night as Alexei ran from the trees toward his mother. “No … no … no …” he screamed. “That’s Princess Maman, leave her alone, go away….”
They swung around, training their rifles on the small figure stumbling on the ice as he ran to his mother. Hot tears burned Missie’s eyes and she wished she dared move so she could cover her ears against their cruel laughter as they grabbed Alexei by the collar, holding him aloft like a squirming puppy while he pleaded frantically with them to leave his mother alone.
Mikoyan butted the end of his bayonet against the boy’s chest and Alexei’s slate-gray eyes grew black with fear.
“So, here’s the young princeling himself, shouting for his mama!”
“Leave my son alone,” Anouska commanded weakly, summoning her most regal voice, “or I swear to God my husband will have you horsewhipped. You will hang from the highest tree at Varishnya … all of you….”
Mikoyan flung back his head in a great roar of laughter. “Watch, Prince,” he yelled, thrusting Alexei closer to his mother. “You are going to learn something they would never teach you at home in your grand palaces! A lesson of the real world! A lesson about the world of men with a thousand years of anger in their hearts!”
Alexei trembled as Mikoyan lunged at Anouska with his bayonet and slit her pretty woolen dress swiftly from neck to hem.
Mikoyan fell silent, staring at her. He had never seen a woman like this, all smooth golden flesh clad in delicate silk and lace.
Anouska closed her eyes, shuddering as he stretched out his filthy hand and ran it the length of her body. The stink of him was in her nostrils as his hand closed cruelly over her breast and then, suddenly, he gave an angry roar.
“What do we have here?” he