How can he be the same man? she thought with despair. Previously he was capable of great kindness, so gentle yet so passionate when she was his mistress. Now he was cool, indifferent, an unresponsive man who happened to live in the same residence. She was paying a high price for her child’s name. Once the seed is planted, a man can ignore, or circumvent, or disavow; paternity is an elusive state, but the receiver of his “gift” has no such option.
Alisa decided to make the best of this imperfect world. She would not retire from life, but chose instead to devote herself to Katelina and, in the future, to the new child as well. Her second child would have a name too. Her husband, though it wrenched her heart to conceive of it, could resume his former life—apparently he already had. But she wouldn’t humiliate herself and beg for crumbs of affection.
And yet, she often broke into an uncontrollable torrent of unhappy tears. Her mind couldn’t control her wounded heart.
Nikki never visited her bed anymore. She knew his need for women, and her heart was consumed with pain at the thought.
Nikki spent his evenings gambling at the clubs, silent, taciturn, grim, quick to anger, while his friends remarked that marriage must not be agreeing with Nikolai Kuzan. He’d even missed the annual war games at Tsarskoe late that summer, pleading an extended leave for reasons of health. The easy masculine camaraderie of the officers would have been intolerable in his present humor.
He was drinking deep, and whispers warned to stay clear of Prince Kuzan; he was primed for trouble. When tired of brandy and gambling, Nikki could invariably be found in one of several Kirgiz night cafés on the islands, drinking black coffee with lemon essence and opium, sweetened with sherbet, or smoking hashish. Both drugs soothed his frustrations, mellowed his irritations, and assuaged his melancholy.
He would, with studied punctuality, arrive home before Katelina wakened and wait for her in the morning room, where she would run down to chatter with Nikki while eating her breakfast. Dressed in his evening clothes, he would wait by the dying fire, feeling no sense of urgency or anything beyond a detached, dreamy interest in seeing his favorite moppet.
Nikki was considerate of Katelina in every way, bringing her lavish quantities of toys and giving every attention to her dialogue. When it was time for Katelina’s lessons in the morning, Nikki would retire to his bedchamber and sleep the day away, rising in time to join Alisa and Katelina for dinner in the enormous formal dining room. Dressed once more for an evening out, he would gossip cheerfully with Katelina while talking with a polite civility to Alisa. Once Katelina was tucked in bed, he disappeared for the night without a word of explanation.
One evening at the dinner table, Alisa gathered her courage to ask Nikki if he would be available for a dancing party she was giving at the end of the week. He hesitated briefly, asked again what day it was to be held, and then said with his customary cool voice, “I’ll contrive to attend, Madame. Please remind my valet the morning of the occasion to wake me in time to dress.”
• • •
Alisa was dressed and waiting in the drawing room the night of the party when Nikki sauntered into the room at ten o’clock, carrying a glass of brandy, already his fourth since putting Katelina to bed. He was attired with his usual negligent elegance in a superbly fitted brown velvet suit that showed his magnificent body off to advantage. An enormous turquoise and diamond pin fastened his carelessly tied cravat and sparkled in the brilliantly lit room. Alisa couldn’t help herself as a press of confusing emotions smothered her. Nikki’s presence still took her breath away, and she was conscious of an unavoidable stirring of admiration.
Casting one desultory glance at the splendid exotic floral arrangements that graced the room, he walked across the polished parquet, stopped halfway into the room, and in a slow drawl remarked, “May I compliment you on your toilette, Madame? You are shown off to excellent advantage this evening.”
A warm glow blazed through Alisa at these first complimentary words she had heard from Nikki in weeks. Was he really proud of her good looks? In the fifth month of her pregnancy, Alisa was wearing a slightly Empire gown of emerald-green satin with ruching and ruffles of green velvet and embroidered Byzantine brocade decorating the flounces of green satin and outlining the décolletage. Her beautiful breasts now further enlarged by pregnancy were swelling magnificently above the green satin bodice. Nikki’s emeralds rested on the soft mounds of flesh while the enormous pendant hung suspended in her deep cleavage. A wreath of white violets and green velvet ribbon was woven into her fashionable upswept curls.
Alisa’s warm glow was short-lived as Nikki tartly said, “However, may I caution you not to bend over too far, or you may fall out of your gown.” A slow anger rose in him at the sight of so much of Alisa’s flesh exposed to the public eye, but he restrained his waxing jealousy and tossed off his brandy instead. Walking over to a side table, he refilled his glass, then perched on the edge of the table, idly swinging one velvet-clad leg.
“Décolletage is fashionable, as you well know,” Alisa coolly replied.
“Indiscretions are fashionable too, Madame, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed one,” Nikki insolently retorted.
Receiving no answer save a narrowed glance from hot violet eyes, Nikki continued. “May I offer you a brandy, Princess. Personally, I find a need to fortify myself against the coming ordeal.”
“If you please, Lord Prince,” Alisa retorted formally. “I, too, feel the need of a drink.”
They sat for twenty minutes, drinking their liquor in a strained silence before the first guests arrived, walking up the grand marble stairway flanked by twenty-four footmen wearing the Kuzan livery, and were announced by two chasseurs at the doors to the ballroom.
Alisa, frustrated by Nikki’s contemptuous stares, drank rather more than usual and was soon flirting outrageously with several of the young gentlemen who paid her court. She was constantly being complimented as the most beautiful woman in Petersburg, and tonight she was in a dangerous mood to accept the flattery as she danced with the young officers and drank champagne with the ardent gentlemen surrounding her.
She even greeted Major Cernov cordially as he came over to pay his compliments and gaze down her low neckline. Alisa smiled at him sweetly, thinking how easily men could be diverted by a pink expanse of bosom.
Nikki stood apart with some of his friends from the Yacht Club, pouring brandy down with great regularity and only occasionally listening to the conversation concerning the merits of the two new danseuses in the corps dramatique. His eyes followed Alisa around the room, and his temper rose as the evening progressed. He watched Alisa darting flirtatious glances at young gallants, thinking she was his wife, dammit, and he put away some more brandy as he considered the infamy of her actions.
When Cernov began bending rather too closely to Alisa’s dainty ear while leering down her cleavage, Nikki took a drunken resolve.
Vile little slut, teasing Cernov with your heaving bosom. He excused himself from his friends with a studied politeness and slowly sauntered across the room toward Alisa and Cernov, followed by several curious eyes in the group he had just quit.
“Good evening, Gregor,” Nikki said quietly, breathing brandy everywhere.
“We will not detain you, Cernov,” he said in a cold murmur. “I’m sure you’re eager to join your friends.” With a short nod he dismissed him. With the immeasurable arrogance instilled in a thousand years of Kuzan nobility, Nikki turned his head the merest fraction and a footman came scurrying out of the noisy crowd.
“Princess Kuzan is feeling indisposed and desires to retire to her apartments. Please escort her.”
Alisa had no choice. If she refused, Nikki was entirely capable of provoking a scene in front of her three hundred guests. She went, her anger blazing high.
Experienced host that he was, Nikki signaled the musicians to begin again, abruptly breaking the still hush of expectancy that hung in the enormous ballroom. Nikki left immediately after, taking him
self to the Kirgiz café, while the guests continued to dance without either host or hostess, and only a delicious scandal to occupy them.
Early the next morning, as the horizon lightened to a shimmering pink, feeling mildly apologetic for his drunken peremptory conduct the evening before, Nikki woke up a furrier on his way home and purchased some gifts for Alisa and Katelina. He’d promised himself last spring he’d dress Alisa in sables, and the weather was coming on winter. Snow could be expected in a few weeks.
When Katelina and Alisa arrived in the morning room for breakfast, Nikki occupied his usual comfortable chair by the fire, still dressed in brown velvet. Katelina scrambled onto his lap and began exclaiming over all the flowers still decorating the palace and Chef’s promise to serve party food for breakfast.
“Come, Uncle Nikki.” She paused. “I mean—Isa,” she remembered quickly. Nikki had insisted on adopting her. Strong-arm methods, in addition to a small fortune, had persuaded Forseus to sign the consent papers. He’d explained to Katelina in the Finnish language Katelina preferred to speak that she was to call him “Father” now that he had married her mother. Katelina had gaily clapped her hands in delight and remembered on most occasions to make the change from uncle to father.
“Come, Daddy,” she implored him, “and eat some party food with me.”
“Look first at the presents I have for you and your mother,” Nikki insisted.
“You should eat some breakfast, Nikki,” Alisa suggested as she sat across the room, noting his appearance. He looked pale, more fatigued than usual.
“Very wifely, I’m sure,” he commented ironically, but ignored her suggestion. “Bring those to your mother.” He handed two enormous boxes to Katelina. She brought first one and then the other to Alisa, who was seated at the table, watching Nikki and Katelina. Why can’t Nikki share some of that kindness and love with me? she thought sadly. He blames me for the marriage, but if I had known how miserable he was going to be, I would have refused. We were so happy those few weeks in the country. Now she was like some alien presence in his town palace, an albatross of duty around his neck.
Katelina was tearing off the silver wrapping and pulling out a gorgeous ermine cape with matching hat and muff trimmed with white velvet ribbons. Nikki helped her put on the new ermine finery, and she whirled around the room, jumping on a chair to gaze at her image in a mirror, then ran out of the room, looking for Rakeli to show off her new outfit.
Alisa slowly unwrapped the largest box and exclaimed in wonder at the splendid sable cape ensconced in silk tissue. Nikki lounged in his chair, watching her.
“Try it on,” he ordered quietly, and Alisa’s momentary happiness was shattered by his tone of command, however softly spoken. “I want my wife to be adequately dressed,” he added.
That’s all he cares about, she thought hotly, remembering her unhappy departure last evening from her own party.
She tossed the cape around her shoulders and sullenly turned around, the superbly soft fur whispering as it twirled.
Nikki smiled faintly. He preferred her petulance to the moroseness she’d affected lately. “Open the other one,” he prompted her.
Alisa ripped the wrapping violently aside and lifted out a short, snug-fitting, waist-length jacket of ermine trimmed with seed pearls.
“I can’t wear it,” she said with malicious delight at being able to refuse his gift. “It’s too tight. It won’t fit while I’m pregnant.”
“Forgive me, a man’s unpracticed eye, I’m afraid. Such a pity. Perhaps you can save it for Katelina when she grows older, for it won’t fit you next winter either.”
“It certainly will,” Alisa replied waspishly. “I haven’t gained that much weight. My figure will be quite returned by next winter.”
“So sorry to disappoint you, Madame, but my father is so set on legitimate heirs, I intend to punctiliously demonstrate my filial piety and keep you pregnant. If he wants heirs, he shall have heirs.”
“You aren’t going to use me for a brood mare!” Alisa exploded angrily.
“I’ll allow you a two-month rest after the birth of this child, but,” he warned, “I shall plant my seed in you once again.”
“The only part for which you are providentially qualified, no doubt,” Alisa said scathingly.
“No doubt,” Nikki agreed equably, “and a gratifying part, I might add, with your soft, luscious body as participant. Ah,” he sighed lightly, a smile playing across his handsome face, “I quite look forward to my duties as stud for the Kuzan family and intend to pursue my function with great assiduity. If you do your part, Madame, little Kuzans should arrive with punctual regularity.”
And so in this acrimonious, malevolent atmosphere of wedded bliss, the young Prince and his wife continued. As the weeks flew by, Alisa became ungainly and awkward as the child grew. She relinquished most of her social activities and remained home with Katelina and occasionally Aleksei for company. Nikki persisted in his carefree bachelor life, solicitous to Katelina, but indifferent to his wife, now great with child.
Prince Mikhail, with his usual host of reliable informants, was kept apprised of the movements of his son and family. He was told that Nikki was living like there was no tomorrow, drunk or sleeping most of the hours of the day and night, while he and his wife had no more than a nodding acquaintance. Prince Mikhail wondered how long it had been since Nikki was sober. The old Prince viewed the situation with deepening, grievous concern. Not sure of his son’s reception, he had Kaisa-leena write to inquire whether they would be welcome for Christmas and received from Nikki a polite but clear “no,” explaining Alisa’s delicate health made entertaining impossible as she approached the end of her term.
Prince Mikhail, now greatly distressed, decided to wait until after the birth of the child, and if the marriage didn’t improve and Alisa was genuinely unhappy, he would offer to help her in obtaining a divorce. The procedure was eminently simplified by his friendship with the Emperor. He simply couldn’t have Alisa’s wretched misery on his conscience. He’d foolishly hoped for a reconciliation between his son and Alisa, but Nikki stubbornly refused to give up his licentious living. He would leave the choice to Alisa. Whatever she wanted, he would support her decision.
Nikki, Alisa, and Katelina spent a quiet Christmas. Nikki indulged Alisa’s request to celebrate the holiday in the Lutheran fashion, since Katelina was familiar with those activities, so the festivities lasted many days, beginning with Christmas Eve on December 24 and continuing through the Russian Christmas on January 6. Katelina was deluged with enough gifts to fill a room and accepted the largesse with equanimity.
Nikki presented Alisa with a three-strand necklace of extremely rare black pearls. The black pearl, the jeweler had explained, was now the summit of every elegante’s ambition, and due to its rarity was the most expensive jewel to adorn a lady’s jewel case.
A second gift of a large photo portrait of Katelina had been contrived after many whispered conferences between father and daughter. Nikki had taken Katelina for two sittings at the fashionable “artistic photographer” at No. 4 Morskaija, until they were both satisfied with the portrait. A mischievous face framed in ermine peered seraphically from behind a frothy muff, and Katelina had signed the photo with her unsteady five-year-old hand.
An unpleasant stab of guilt struck Nikki as he accepted Alisa’s gift to him; a watercolor sketch she had done at Mon Plaisir the past summer. A wash of warm memories enveloped Nikki, and a reminiscent smile softened his harsh-featured face for a brief moment.
Nikki actually stayed home several nights in a row to spend the holiday with his winsome daughter. He read her Christmas stories and joined in the songs, surprising everyone by singing them from memory. He remembered his own early Christmases with a child’s memory and tried to give some of that delight to Katelina. With a rueful pang he had to admit that these evenings en famille offered a contentment and satisfaction that no liquor or opium could promote. How long had it been since he’d su
ng Christmas songs?
Alisa was pleased to have Nikki sitting with her before the fire, and her emotions leapt in happiness to have him near. She resolutely steeled herself to expect his disappearance soon, but she would bask unreservedly in the luxury of his kindness and company while she could.
Nikki watched Alisa as she read to Katelina or played the piano while they sang, and marveled anew at the beauty and charm of this woman who was his wife. He would find himself occasionally lapsing into recollections of their weeks at Mon Plaisir or in vague musings about the child she was carrying. Alisa was charming in cashmere dresses of a loose, flowing style suitable for ladies “awaiting a blessed event,” as Madame Vevay so delicately put it.
For the first time in his life he thought about becoming a father. He even felt a kindly concern for Alisa’s travail, soon to begin. She was small and fragile and the child was already extremely large. He must ask about her doctor, he considered absently, and then was coaxed into joining them in play and forgot the subject.
However, with Christmas over, Nikki embarked once again on his chronic, restless rounds of gambling and drinking, descending a little further into his own private hell. His melancholy deepened, his drinking increased, his boredom he could have cut with a knife.
Chapter Fifteen
THE VOLTE-FACE
Returning home at his usual early hour one morning, Nikki found the palace already a bustle of activity. Maids were running up the stairs, footmen were scurrying on errands, even Sergei momentarily forgot to divest his master of his sable topcoat, gloves, and walking stick, instead, blurting out forthwith, “I’m so glad to see you, Lord Prince, we were not able to locate you last night.”
Nikki gripped Sergei’s shoulder in alarm when he heard the nervous protestation.
“What’s the matter, Sergei?”
“The Mistress, sir, she went into labor last evening and is having difficulty.”
Seized by Love Page 24