Valentina Luellen

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by The Countess


  Catherine laughed softly at his obvious reluctance to reply, and her attention was caught by the flash of a vivid scarlet dress passing a few feet away from them. Her gaze dwelt for a moment on the voluptuous figure of the woman inside it. She hated that colour - it was brazen and unnecessarily attracting. With her own fair skin and light hair, Catherine knew that she would appear hideous in red, and that was the root of her dislike. The woman turned briefly to smile at Dmitri and immediately she knew who it was.

  "I see Madame de Veaux is here, as vulgarly sensational as ever. You are acquainted with her, I believe."

  "As Your Highness is aware, Madeleine de Veaux has been my mistress for the past year." Dmitri did not mind admitting a well-known fact.

  "She is a woman of considerable talents - you chose well."

  Dmitri smiled as he remembered their first meeting. All his instincts had warned him it had been planned, and the months to come had proved him right.

  "It was not my choice, she chose me. The lady is paid, and very handsomely too, by Major Krylenko to extract what information she can from me whenever we are together."

  Catherine grew pale beneath her rouge.

  "And you succumbed to her charms, Colonel?" Her voice was flat.

  "Of course. Over the past year many men have been executed on the titbits I have let slip to the lady. Some day, if the Major ever decides to check his list of agents, he will find the numbers greatly reduced. It is one way of eliminating the opposition," he added sardonically.

  "I did not realise," Catherine answered. "Why did you not tell me? I should have had her removed from court."

  "And the Major would plant another spy somewhere else - one we might not know of until it was too late. It is of no consequence, believe me. As you say, she has consider­able talents."

  Catherine's estimation of her officer doubled itself in that moment.

  "I have often wondered why I trust you with my life, Dmitri Varanov."

  He smiled, amused by her words.

  "Your Highness has to trust someone. Is it so hard to believe that I want only to serve you?"

  "When you take a wife, you may find you have a conflict of duties."

  "You know my views on marriage. Women amuse me - help to pass the hours when they grow lonely, as indeed they do at times. After all, I am only flesh and blood like any other man. But marriage? No, I shall never marry."

  "Nor dine with me?" Catherine murmured.

  An invitation to dine in private was a sure sign that a man was in favour with her. There were frequent invita­tions to Gregory Orloff, her present lover; there had been many others. Few had dared to refuse, but one of them had been Dmitri Varanov. At odd times Catherine did dine with him in the privacy of her chamber, but because she liked his company and for no other reason, although no one at court believed it. They drank together, discus­sed trivialities and important affairs of state - he had become indispensable to her.

  "Your Highness must be aware by now I do not place her in the same category as other women," Dmitri returned, a touch of ice in his voice. "I would not presume to violate the trust you have in me."

  Catherine laughed and laid a jewelled hand on his arm.

  "You can turn a pretty phrase when you choose. I wish all my officers were so trustworthy," she said.

  Meanwhile in the adjoining room, the Great Hall, the two sisters were watching the dancing. The walls of the long room were lined with heavy tapestries and the light from a hundred or more candles glowed and flickered over the priceless array of jewels, the silks and satins of the ladies' gowns. It was like a scene from a fairy-tale. Alexandreya wondered how many faces she would recognise if the masks were removed.

  "I have never seen so many people." She turned to her sister with an amazed smile. "Does the Empress entertain on this scale often?"

  "Of course, why do you think everyone looks forward to the arrival of the court here? Have you seen Vladimir?"

  "No, we lost him as we came in. It is so crowded."

  "Excuse me, ladies."

  A man in the dashing red and black uniform of the Grand Duke's Holstein Guard came out of the crowd and bowed before them. At his sudden appearance Natasha's hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes swiftly scanned the sea of faces around them.

  "Andre, are you mad? My husband will join us at any moment."

  "He is in the Banquet Hall with Madame de Veaux, we are safe for the present," the man answered.

  "Alexa, may I present you to Lieutenant Andre Bruck­ner. This is my sister, Andre, the Countess Alexandreya Romanova," Natasha's voice was very low, as if afraid her words would carry to a passer-by and reveal her dreaded secret.

  Pale grey eyes dwelt admiringly on the girl in green as Andre Bruckner raised her hand to his lips.

  "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Countess. Natasha has told me so much about you. I hope we shall be friends."

  "That remains to be seen.". Alexandreya tried to keep her voice impersonal. Until she was sure of this man's affection for her sister, she did not intend to be too graci­ous.

  "Alexa, that is not nice," Natasha protested.

  "Your sister has every right to be suspicious of me, dushka, don't be angry with her, she -" He broke off stiffening. "Your husband joins us at an inopportune moment, I must leave you."

  Alexandreya turned and to her dismay found Vladimir was almost upon them.

  "Dance with me, Lieutenant," she said with a smile.

  "It will be my pleasure."

  Andre escorted her into the midst of the dancers in a perfectly timed exit which left Natasha relating to her husband how quickly Alexandreya had found an admirer.

  "Have you known my sister long, Lieutenant Bruckner?" Alexandreya asked, staring hard at the boyish face before. Her gaze was held steadily.

  "A little over three months, we met at a banquet, not unlike this one. I was fascinated by your sister from the first moment I saw her."

  "It is only fascination, then?"

  "It is not, Countess." His smile reproved her in a friendly way. "I love Natasha, for me there will never be another woman."

  Alexandreya heard a ring of truth in his voice and could not help remembering that those words had once been said to her, only then it had been a hollow promise for which she had paid dearly.

  "You do not believe me," the Lieutenant said with a frown. "Why? Have you never been in love?"

  Alexandreya flushed acutely.

  "You are very personal, Lieutenant, but I forgive you because I feel you are speaking the truth."

  "Please accept my apology, I am cursed with a runaway tongue at times." The young officer's embarrassment was so real that Alexandreya's suspicions began to dissolve. If only Vladimir's ugly shadow did not loom over the two lovers, how different it would be!

  "My sister's happiness means everything to me," she said quietly. "There is nothing I will not do to ensure it. I cannot say this has my approval, but under the circumstances, neither of you are to be blamed for taking your happiness where you find it. Major Krylenko is not aware of your identity, I take it?"

  "No, we have always met in secret. He may suspect she has a lover, but he can prove nothing."

  "I doubt if there are any secrets left inside these walls," Alexandreya answered. "You must continue to be careful, and I will help you in any way I can."

  Andre Bruckner was clearly overwhelmed by this sud­den alliance. He pressed her fingers to his lips in an unexpected sign of gratitude.

  "I am for ever in your debt, Countess."

  At the entrance to the Great Hall, Catherine had also come to inspect the dancing. She gazed languidly at the faces milling around her. This ball was only one of many held by the Empress to refute the rumours of her impend­ing death. Each time new life surged through the court, and as usual Elizabeth was the centre of attraction. Catherine had left her in the Banquet Hall surrounded by members of the court fawning attention on her.

  "Each day Elizabeth grows more like a moth
er hen," she said coldly. "Or is it a vixen?"

  "Your Highness is free of her now," Dmitri said, pressing a full goblet of champagne into her hand. He too was tired of the adoring fops around the Empress, and had been glad to leave the room. Besides, there had been no woman there bearing even a slight resemblance to Alexan­dreya Romanova.

  "Since I became a dutiful wife and produced a son - an heir to the Imperial throne of Russia! A son I have not had access to since his birth." Catherine's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "There is much I could tell you, my Com­mander, that would shock you."

  Dmitri smiled. He had often suspected that Peter was not the father, but he kept his thoughts to himself. What did it matter if it was true? Elizabeth Petrovna could die in peace - Catherine was free of all the restrictions imposed on her since her arrival in Russia, and there was a son to step into Peter's shoes. Even if he was not wholly of royal blood, at least he would be sane.

  "Some things are best left untold," he said.

  Catherine darted a swift searching look in his direction, but his face was impassive.

  "It would be interesting to break you on the rack and learn what secrets are hidden deep in that black heart," she answered. "Take care never to earn my displeasure, Dmitri."

  "I think you know full well I would take all my secrets with me to the grave."

  Dmitri was perfectly serious and she knew it. It gave her a strange thrill to know that here was one man who had risked her anger by refusing to become her lover, yet still he was prepared to die for her. He had been appointed her Guard Commander by the Empress. Catherine "suspected it was only to relay information and make sure she did not cause too much scandal, and when the Empress had first fallen ill, he had come to her and confessed as much.

  The time had come, he said, to decide once and for all where his loyalty was to rest when the throne changed hands. With Peter, half-crazed and unpredictable, or with his consort. He had chosen Catherine, pledging himself to her service until death.

  His quiet sincerity had often disturbed her since that day, but he had proved himself without a doubt to be true. Although she had begun to gather around her a close circle of followers, many from the army, she trusted few. Dmitri, however, was an exception. His Cossacks, loyal to the last man, guarded her night and day and accompanied her wherever she went, and he was never far from her side.

  He was a man of exceptional courage, as brave a man as his father had been before him. In Elizabeth's service he had excelled himself time and time again, and had been rewarded with a title and lands. Catherine admired the way he had risen to power and the ruthlessness with which he handled his wild Cossacks, but the man himself- of him she was not so sure. His arrogance annoyed her frequently, and his cool contempt for the court nobles around him, had earned him many enemies, most of them in the Czar's household. He was a dangerous adversary and too complex for her to ever fully understand. Her ladies came to her with stories of his unpredictable moods, changing with frightening swiftness from love to hate in a matter of seconds - from cruelty to gentleness. No woman knew where she stood with him. He was generous with presents such as jewels or rich furs to any woman who took his fancy, but it was not a weakness. It was rumoured he had once loved a beautiful widow and had his love thrown back in his face, after which he had satisfied his anger by numerous short-lived affairs that only helped to deepen his bitterness. As she watched his gaze roving over the people around them, Catherine felt inclined to pity any woman who attempted to toy with his affections.

  She had considered all these things when he first came to her with his pledge of loyalty, and had eventually decided a man who could remain unemotionally involved with a woman was of great value - a clear head was always an asset to anyone. He had never given her cause to regret the decision.

  Since the birth of her son, Catherine had taken full advantage of her newly acquired freedom. She knew exactly how everyone at court expected her to react, and she did not disappoint them. She took countless lovers from among the commissioned officers of the army and bent each one successfully to her will, until they were willing to obey her slightest order without question. Only her husband's Holstein Guards remained out of reach and she deliberately avoided any contact with them, or any of his household. Peter's mad mind might concoct treason­ous reasons for so many military paramours - and for once he would be nearer the truth than he realised.

  She had not harboured any specific plans at first, but she knew that once the Empress was dead, she would be in deadly danger. Already Peter had smuggled his mistress back into the palace. It was clear he intended to rid himself of an unwelcome wife and place another woman in her place once he came to power. He was supposed to be present at the ball, but at the last moment he had decided not to attend and had locked himself in his bedroom with his mistress and his toy soldiers. Catherine smiled to herself, wondering which gave him the greatest pleasure.

  "I feel like dancing, Dmitri," she said lightly.

  "I am at your command."

  She laughed as he swept her into the middle of the dance floor, conscious of the many feminine eyes following their every move.

  "I wish you were - you are too handsome, my Colonel, and far too proud. Do you realise almost every woman in this room is wishing she was in my place?"

  All, but one, Dmitri thought. Aloud he said, with a cynical smile on his face:

  "When Your Highness has found another partner they may have their wish."

  "Heaven help them!"

  They toured the floor until Catherine said she was exhausted and desired some refreshment to restore her strength. Dmitri left her seated on one of the long padded seats lining each side of the room, and went to fetch some champagne.

  It was as he returned that he caught sight of Alexan-

  dreya and Lieutenant Bruckner. She was laughing at something he had said, her head thrown back and her lips parted. For some reason the low, amused laugh angered him. He had no doubt it was she. The red hair, the same emerald earrings as she had worn at the inn - and confir­mation came as she turned to look about her. Her green eyes encountered his and instantly glanced away as recog­nition dawned.

  He passed them without a word and returned to Catherine's side.

  "If Your Highness will excuse me for a moment, I think I have seen someone I know."

  "Your Countess -" Catherine looked about her curi­ously. "Bring her here. I must see this paragon of virtue for myself. I insist," she added as he hesitated.

  "Very well."

  Dmitri threaded his way through the crowd and paused beside Alexandreya, aware of a sudden tremor which ran through her body as his arm accidentally brushed hers.

  "Good evening, Countess Romanova, I hope you are being well looked after." He glanced at Andre and before she could reply, said: "You must excuse us, Lieutenant Bruckner, the Grand Duchess is waiting to meet the lady."

  Alexandreya's lips tightened at his brusque manner, but she was determined not to be intimidated. She thanked Andre warmly for partnering her and said that she would be pleased to dance with him again later on in the evening.

  "Well, Colonel?" she said as Andre turned away.

  "Well, Countess?" His mocking gaze infuriated her and she felt the colour begin to mount in her cheeks.

  "I am waiting for some explanation as to why you thought it necessary to send me repeated invitations to dine with you after my first refusal."

  "Women are fickle jades when it comes to making up their minds," Dmitri replied casually. He saw Catherine looking in their direction and showing signs of impati­ence. "We are keeping Her Imperial Highness waiting."

  Alexandreya's eyes widened.

  "It was not a ruse to speak to me -" she stammered.

  "I have never needed the use of trickery to speak with a woman yet," came the dry retort. "Come, we can talk later." '"

  Lost for words, Alexandreya allowed him to escort her to where the Grand Duchess sat. She dropped a deep curtsey before the regal figure, m
agnificent in white satin and lace, and prayed desperately that her cheeks would not betray her confusion.

  "Countess Romanova, Your Imperial Highness," Dmitri said. Now there was another person present, he was more formal in addressing Catherine.

  "From where, Dmitri?"

  "From Bratz, Your Imperial Highness."

  Alexandreya was momentarily puzzled as to how he knew, and then realised Natasha had probably told him about their home during her "mild flirtation" with him. As she looked at him, beside Catherine, she found it hard to believe a flirtation would prove satisfying to a man of his temperament.

  "Bratz, ah, yes, a lovely part of the country, but so isolated! Have you come to St. Petersburg for excitement, Countess - Romanova, to find a husband perhaps; there can be few suitable men in Bratz to choose from." Catherine's expression was amused.

  "I am here on holiday with my sister, Mrs. Krylenko."

  "The wife of my husband's aide-de-camp? You do not look at all like your sister, I should never have known you were related."

  Alexandreya knew by the sudden dryness of tone that Catherine was aware of Natasha's reputation, and she was filled with shame. Quick to notice her distress, Catherine relented. This one was reputed to be ice-cold. It would be as well, if she had attracted the attention of Dmitri.

  "St. Petersburg is a beautiful city," she said and smiled. "You will find the time passes quickly. Do you ride?"

  "Yes, Your Imperial Highness, every morning at home."

  "Good, you will ride with me one morning soon, and tomorrow afternoon you will come and talk to me again, there will be more time then. I shall expect you at four o'clock."

  "I am honoured." Alexandreya could hardly believe her ears. She could not wait to tell her sister. Catherine looked up at Dmitri.

  "No doubt you are eager to have the Countess to your­self for a while, I will detain you no longer."

  "Thank you." Dmitri bowed turned to Alexandreya offering his arm. There was nothing she could do but accept it.

  "I thought you meant to refuse," he murmured as soon as they were out of earshot. "It was wise not to. We are still being watched," he added as she attempted to remove her hand from his arm.

 

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