A Sister's Quest

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  “You should bathe before the water gets cold,” he said, coming to stand behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders as he drew her back a half step to lean against him.

  “Yes.” The idea of a bath was as heady as an opiate; yet she did not move. Being against him like this was even more heavenly, especially when she did not have to look at the devilish twinkle in his eyes. “But how did it get here?”

  “Didn’t you see me speak to that lad when we stopped to change horses at the edge of the city?”

  “He was a lanky lad, nearly as tall as a man.”

  “I should have guessed you would not miss that.” He brushed hair back from her forehead. “Your dark eyes seldom miss anything. I sent the lad ahead with a message for our landlord to prepare a fire on each hearth, to have oil in the lamps, and to get this ready for you, Liebchen.”

  “Thank you for thinking of the one thing I want right now more than anything else.”

  His hand on her elbow wrapped her arm around her with his over it. Sifting his other hand up through her hair, he plucked out the pins. He caught the strands that fell over his fingers. “How simple your desires are! To want things within your grasp must be wonderful.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “Other than you?” He lifted her hair and kissed her nape.

  She put her other hand over his on her arm as she closed her eyes, delighting in the sweet sensations quivering deep within her while his fingertip roved along the modest neckline of her gown. “Yes.”

  “I am not sure.” There was a tinge of regret in his voice. “Why do you ask me questions no one else has?”

  “I don’t know.” That was a lie. She knew exactly why she asked. She longed to discover an answer to even one of the puzzles that made up this paradoxical man.

  “No? I thought you might be spying on me.”

  “Are you that interesting, Alexei?” Her words ended in a soft gasp as his caress brushed the curves above her gown.

  He turned her, enfolding her to him. His legs pressed against hers as she raised her arms around his shoulders. “I could be interesting. For you, I could be, Liebchen. I—Dammit!” He stepped away and motioned toward the tub. “You should take your bath, Michelle, before the water gets cold.”

  Michelle stared after him as he went back into his own room, closing the door behind him. She did not hesitate. Lifting her bag off the chair, she jammed the chair under the knob so the door would not open. Sitting on the bed, she stared at the door. She was more certain than ever that she would never understand Alexei Vatutin, and more uncertain than ever why she wanted to.

  Alexei clamped his pipe between his teeth and scowled at the chair that was meant to keep him out of Michelle’s room. Then he chuckled. She was learning, albeit not the lessons he would like to teach her.

  Verflucht! He did not need to be thinking about her when he should be considering his next move. There were a few people who must already know he was back in Vienna. They would be making plans, so he must, too. If he could just banish Michelle from his mind …

  Hearing a sound behind him, he turned. His smile returned when he saw Rusak in the doorway.

  “Where is Michelle?” Alexei asked.

  Rusak gestured toward his left.

  “In the kitchen?”

  He nodded.

  Alexei chuckled. “Whatever she is cooking smells wonderful. I hope she is making enough for three.”

  Rusak’s lips pursed in a scowl.

  “Eat it or not, as you wish.” Alexei shrugged. “I had thought, by now, you would see the good sense of having her here. If we had left her in Zurich, everything might be ruined.”

  He drew his finger across his throat.

  “Very funny, unless you are talking about our throats, which will be slit in no time if LaTulippe finds out I have double-crossed him.”

  At the sound of footsteps, Rusak walked in the opposite direction.

  Alexei chuckled as he set his pipe on the dressing table. From one problem to the next.

  “What are you doing here?” Michelle said, pausing in the open door. She held a bowl from which came enticing aromas of pepper and basil.

  He had seen her in her nightgown and wrapper before, but the sight of her standing in the doorway, wisps of her hair floating around her face as they teased his fingers to touch them, was enchanting. Every inch of him demanded that he pull her into his arms and loosen those buttons on her wrapper as he drew her nightgown up along her legs. Her legs … He gulped. That habit she had of sleeping with one leg slipped out from beneath the covers had given him an enticing view of it and added to the maddening need to run his fingers along its slender length. Up over her ankle, along her calf, to her knee, to her thigh, then … He cursed silently. How much could he be expected to endure, even for the love of his homeland?

  “Alexei, what are you doing here?” Michelle’s voice was sharp with impatience, and he wondered how long he had been lost in the thought of wrapping those pretty legs around him in her bed.

  “Waiting for you.” Good! His voice was even. He pointed toward her bag and trunk. “I have been playing your maid while you made supper.” He plucked the bowl from her hands. “Is this mine?”

  “I think not!” She took it and set it on the table. Her eyes widened when she saw his pipe there.

  “You have no gratitude for what a good lady’s maid I have been. After I removed your tub, I turned down your bed to take away the chill and put your things in the armoire.”

  “You unpacked—You dared to—”

  “You are welcome, if you are attempting to thank me.” He dipped a finger in the soup and, with a yelp, waved it in the air. “Verflucht! That is hot!”

  “What did you expect?”

  Tasting the soup on his scalded finger, he smiled. “And delicious, Liebchen. Is there more?”

  “In the kitchen.” She pointed to the door, then frowned. “I locked the door!”

  “Yes, you did.” He pulled the chair away from the connecting door. “I had to unlock it because you put this in the way.”

  “There are two keys?”

  “No.”

  “But you are in here!”

  He smiled and tapped her cheek. “Liebchen, you should have guessed that I have encountered other locked doors before tonight.”

  “Ah, the famous spy.”

  Laughing, he said, “Those two words should never go together. Many of the locked doors I have encountered were locked again without anyone else being the wiser.”

  Her eyes snapped with dark fire when she folded her arms in front of her. “This, you told me, would be my room. If you want to come in, you must knock like anyone else.”

  “Anyone else? Who else are you expecting to give you a look-in at your bedroom door?”

  “Don’t try to confuse the issue.” She pointed to the door. “It is unlocked now, and I suggest you make use of that fact.”

  His arm swept around her. He gave her his most wicked smile, but the fury in her eyes did not dim. “Michelle—”

  “If you will not leave …” She put her hands on his arms and tried to shove them away. Her words were spat through her clenched teeth. “I will leave, then.”

  “Not until you listen to me.” Putting his mouth near her ear, he whispered, “If you keep squirming so enticingly against me, I shall not be leaving until you do far more than listen.”

  “You would not dare!”

  He was tempted to tell her that she was the one who was daring. If she had guessed the course of his thoughts, she would have turned and fled. His fingers splayed across her back, pressing her in her soft garments even closer.

  “’Tis your good fortune, Liebchen,” he said, holding her gaze, “that you are right. At least, tonight.” When he released her, she took only a step away before he cupped her elbow again.

  She glanced at him. “Count Vatutin, are you going to paw me all night?” A flush climbed her cheeks as he laughed.

  He relinquish
ed her arm. “Oh, Michelle, you make it so difficult to remain angry when you act like a child. And, like a child, you must have your lessons repeated to you often before you remember them.” He leaned forward. “Do not forget this again, Liebchen. I shall go anywhere I please in this apartment. You must accustom yourself to that.”

  “I do not think I can.”

  “You will.”

  She turned away, but he could see her face in the mirror. Her anger was gone. Dismay had replaced it. She closed her eyes, then opened them to meet his gaze. “Do not forget this again, my lord: I am your employee, not your mistress. I will pretend to be your mistress in public, but I insist on privacy in this room.”

  “Brava.” He clapped his hands. “What a performance! I cannot wait to unleash you on the unsuspecting delegates. They will never guess that such a cold lady is, in actuality, a schoolteacher.”

  Michelle pointed to the connecting door. “Will you please leave? I want to eat my soup.”

  “Can I hope you made enough for Rusak and me?”

  “Yes.”

  In spite of himself, Alexei was amazed. “You did?”

  “If you did not spend all your time picking locks and being where you should not be, you might have come to the kitchen to see that.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Will you please leave? I am tired of your trickery and lies.”

  “Lies? Liebchen, do you think I am lying to you?”

  “Of course.”

  With a shrug, he reached for the door latch. “And, of course, you are correct.” He opened the connecting door, then paused. “You are correct about everything but one small fact.”

  “What is that?”

  He gave her the grin that always raised her color. “Liebchen, I was honest that I would like to stay here and have you in my arms all night long.”

  With a cry, she whipped her pillow off the bed and flung it at him. He ducked, and it sailed into his room. Picking it up, he turned to hand it back to her. The door slammed so hard that the wood vibrated.

  He tossed the pillow into the air. Catching it, he threw it onto his bed. This was, without question, going to be his most interesting visit ever to Vienna.

  Chapter Seven

  Alexei regarded Michelle over his coffee cup. As he lowered it to the table, he stated, “It is clear that the first thing we have to do is obtain you some decent clothes.”

  “Decent?” Her hand reached toward the neckline of her gown. It was properly modest.

  Laughing, he said, “Let me rephrase that. We must obtain you some clothes that fit with your new life as the mistress of a member of the Russian delegation. No man would be attracted to your funereal feathers.”

  Her eyes snapped with outrage. It took every ounce of her willpower to hold on to her serenity. “I can understand that you do not want to be seen with a decent woman on your arm. Think what it would do to your reputation! It would be ghastly to—”

  He laughed again. “You make it difficult to do anything nice for you.” He stood and picked up his cup. Draining it, he set it back on its saucer. “How long will it take you to get ready to go to the modiste’s shop?”

  “I am ready now,” she said primly as she rose. Placing her napkin on the table, she added, “I have no interest in inciting another of your Russian temper tantrums, Count Vatutin.”

  “You should always call me Alexei here, even when you are having one of your Swiss temper tantrums.”

  She went to the glass over the sideboard. The dining room was situated next to the parlor and overlooked a small courtyard at the back of the house. As she patted her hair into place, she said, “I have told you I shall do my utmost to convince everyone I am your mistress, intent on satisfying your every need. I shall keep my private feelings hidden.”

  “You, hide something?” He snorted. “Impossible, Liebchen. Every thought you have is visible on your face. Such as right now. You are pretending to be angry, but you are excited to be replacing your bleak frocks.”

  That he could judge her feelings so accurately bothered Michelle, for it left her bare before him. Then she scowled. If he was able to guess what she was thinking, he should be more considerate instead of infuriating her at every opportunity.

  He went into the parlor and plucked her cloak off the hook. With a flourish, he settled it over her shoulders. When she reached to hook it, he said, “Allow me, my dearest love.” He silenced her retort when he continued, “Don’t you understand that it must be different from this point forward?”

  “Is it? You will be insufferable, and I shall be your long-suffering mistress.”

  He finished securing the small buttons on her cape. Instead of stepping away, he slid his hands along her shoulders and down her arms in a languid motion. “It shall be very, very different. You must grant me certain liberties I know you find offensive.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “offensive.” She stared up at him, lost in the emerald seas of his eyes. Brown specks within them fascinated her as his arms slid beneath her cloak to encircle her waist.

  “You must be willing to let me hold you.”

  “I know.”

  His hand swept up along her back, bringing her to him. “If the occasion arises, you must not appear disgusted by my kiss.”

  “I won’t,” she said softly.

  His grin returned. “I did not think you would.”

  “You arrogant, contemptible—”

  He laughed as she walked away from him. She could not let him discover how hurt she was that he was playing with her emotions again. Her hand was grasped by his. He placed it gently on his arm and winked.

  “I should hate you!” Michelle said, unable to keep from smiling.

  “More than you do?”

  “I thought you said you could tell what I was feeling!”

  He opened the door and led her out, then turned to lock it. Unable to see his face, she was unsure if he was teasing or serious when he said, “I can.”

  “But I don’t really hate you.”

  He faced her. Although he did not touch her, a warmth oozed from her center as he smiled. “But you would like to hate me, wouldn’t you?”

  Standing on the landing, she said over the clatter of traffic in the street below, “Alexei, I honestly don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “I do.”

  “You do?” Her eyes narrowed when she saw that twinkle in his. What mischief was he about to spring on her now?

  “I think Rusak will be outraged if he has to wait out in the cold much longer.” Holding out his arm, he asked, “Liebchen?”

  She put her fingers on it. As he led her down the stairs, she wondered what awaited them in Vienna. Whatever it was, if Alexei was involved, it would not be boring.

  A tinny bell rang as Michelle hurried into the small shop. She was glad to be out of the piercing wind that was whipping the snow down Griechengasse. As she shook snow from her cloak, she asked, “Why won’t Rusak come inside?”

  Alexei chuckled as he took off his beaver hat and brushed snow off it. “Rusak in a couturière’s shop? He would rather face the French again.” In a whisper, he added, “Besides, we must keep up appearances. Don’t forget he is our coachman.”

  “Grüss Gott!” called a rumbling, female voice.

  Michelle tried to find a smile for the woman who was as round as the rich sound of her voice.

  “Frau Lepper?” asked Alexei.

  “Yes,” she said, bobbing her head so enthusiastically that her double chins jiggled. “You must be Count Vatutin.”

  He gave her his most charming smile. “I appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.”

  “My pleasure, my lord. I am happy to make a wardrobe for your dear friend.”

  Michelle noted Frau Lepper’s slight emphasis. This was only the first of the embarrassing situations she would find herself in during their stay in Vienna. From this point forward, she would be an extension of Alexei, for her identity came solely from their relationship.

&n
bsp; He drew her forward. “Frau Lepper, my dear friend. Fraulein Michelle D’Orage. I think you shall find her more than easy to work with.”

  As Frau Lepper clucked another greeting, Michelle flashed Alexei a furious glance. It was horrible enough that the modiste used the term dear friend. His repetition added to her discomfort.

  “Come here, Fraulein,” ordered the seamstress. “Turn.” She shook her head. “What a shame.”

  “A shame?” asked Alexei, sitting on a chair by the window.

  Frau Lepper glanced at him. “I mean no insult to her, my lord, but such a lovely woman should not be dressed so. Are you in mourning, Fraulein?”

  “No,” she answered uneasily.

  “Then you should never wear black. With your dark hair and pale skin, you should wear soft colors.”

  Alexei said, “We leave those decisions in your competent hands, Frau Lepper.”

  “What exactly do you wish to order?”

  Although the seamstress had spoken to Michelle, Alexei answered, “Everything from the skin out. She will need dresses for calls and for at-homes and for evening, along with all the accessories to go with them. Do not forget the lacy unmentionables that ladies love to wear.” His smile became lascivious. “And men love to have them wear.”

  “Alexei!” Michelle gasped before she could halt herself.

  “Let me spoil you as you spoil me, Liebchen.” He clasped her hand and brought it to his lips.

  Alexei watched both women. Michelle’s flushed face was perfect for her role as his newly acquired mistress. Frau Lepper’s smile became more calculating. She must be trying to figure how far his generosity extended. As he released Michelle’s hand, the modiste hurried her into a measuring room.

  Leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, he peered through the window. It had been almost a decade since his first visit to Vienna. He sighed. That debacle he did not want to remember. Although it hardly seemed possible now, he had been nearly as naïve as Michelle. So simple the answers had seemed. So clear-cut the line between right and wrong. No longer. He nearly had destroyed all that he worked for, but he had been saved by Sophie D’Orage.