My confused state lasted all through the carriage ride which Andrey and I shared with Annabelle Crawley and Jonathan Fenester, and continued until we halted by the river, where a cluster of small rowing boats stood waiting.

Finally my face relaxed as I accepted Andrey's proffered arm. Yes, my plan had been to focus solely on Gavrila, but there was clearly no way to reach him now, seeing as he and the princess were already sailing down the river. Plus Andrey could sign and he seemed more than usually kind. So into our boat I got.

As much as I tried to deny myself the happiness, it felt absolutely wonderful to be floating atop the water. Our boat was sleek, shiny, red. Andrey got in very awkwardly, twisting his massive frame to try and lessen the rock of the boat. It didn't work, of course, so I looked elsewhere to hide my laughter. My gaze panned over the slowly dispersing gaggle of courtiers until it landed on Gavrila.

Even though he was nearly out of view, I could still see how Ganechka's eyes were roving over Andrey and I - first on me, with a gaze very similar to one he wore that night on the balcony in Oldcliff; and then to Andrey, with a bitterness which made my cheeks burn. But then he steered himself and the Princess behind a large willow and out of sight.

"Would you like me to row?" I asked almost instinctively, reaching for the oars. Andrey's hands touched mine as I took the wooden arms.

That would be a little improper for a lady. He signed easily, I scowled. Let me find a spot out of the sight, then you can row for me.

Rolling my eyes, I nodded. I found it impossible not to smile at his screwed up concentration face as he pushed us off in the opposite direction to all the other boats.

Every time the bow thumped into the bank, I let out a little laugh until Andrey finally gave in. He sullenley dropped the oars into my hands and I rolled my shoulders in preparation.

Show off. He signed petulantly as I glided us easily over the olive green water.

I smirked, my fingers itching to tuck my loose hair behind an ear, and pushed us under a heavy hanging willow.

"Wait until you're not a cripple, Ganechka. Have a little patience." My mind unpleasantly jolted back to when Gavrila suggested we lay beneath the willows in the outskirts of Oldcliff. Grimacing, I ran a hand through my hair to dispel the thought, mussing the perfectly straight style by doing so.

Irritated, I shook my hands out. "So where did you say you were from?" I could remember Eric's card perfectly: Andrey Rimmer, son of Lord and Lady Rimmer of Galavon. Both deceased. But I needed conversation which would be easy to follow, to take my mind off the unsettling past.

Grenver-on-trout the man painstakingly spelled out. I frowned for a moment, before dismissing Eric's mistake. Grenver wasn't that far from Oldcliff at all and Andrey clearly had the tan of the south.

You're from around there aren't you? He continued. I'm sure I've seen you before. At a party or something.

I spared him a nod as I decided that it was better to row away from the willow, forfeiting my ability to follow his conversation in the process. Andrey continued on diligently as we slipped through the water, the ripples cascading around us.

For a while, I was happy rowing along in blissful ignorance, watching as horses navigated the severe incline of the valley. White and light blue wildflowers dotted the banks and as we passed one by, Andrey leaned out to catch them in his hand. I paused in my rowing for a moment to let him get them. It was as though a small part of me knew he wanted to pick them for me. It was as though a rather large part of me looked forward to letting him kiss my hand and present them to me.

Only Andrey, great Adonis that he was, found his arms to be a little too short.

With his tongue between his teeth in concentration, he maneuvered both his knees up onto the thin bench, rising up slightly so it looked like he was proposing to the bank. As he lightly lunged forward, the boat rocked uncertainly.

"Um, Andrey?" I bit my lip, hesitant to interrupt him from his dashing persuit. "Shall I move us a little closer?"

He waved me off, signing something along the lines of adventure.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another boat winding slowly round the corner a way off. Before I could identify it's passengers, my own boat lurched underneath me.

In a matter of milliseconds, freezing water wrapped me like a glove. For a moment I was in shock, my head stuck below the surface, but then I brought up Locke's cold water tactics and slowed my breathing down, letting my body float back up.

Once my head had broken into the warm summer air, my eyes opened to a shocked but laughing Andrey.

His huge bear arms wrapped around me as I struggled to tread water through my dress.

Andrey's body was warm even though his clothes were sodden. I clung to him like I'd clung to Locke when I was little. I could feel a rumbling and realised that it was Andrey's deep laugh. My fingertips crept up his chest to feel the vibrations better and my lips split into an involuntary smile - a true smile.

For a moment, all that mattered was the way my skirt fanned out and danced in the water, the way my ear rested against his shoulder, the subtle tang of a little blood in my mouth, and the smell of our cold, damp clothes.

But that moment was soon over.