He looked at the curtain, which undulated with the movement beyond it. He could not have imagined then that he would return to Vienna with Sophie’s daughter.
Resting his hands on his knees, he stared at the floor, which was littered with thread. Finding Michelle and bringing her with him might have been the wrong way to repay Sophie. He wished he could have left Michelle in her cloistered school. He had not had that choice. Those who had lost power sought the daughter of the woman who had worked for their downfall. His fingers tightened on his knee. They could have twisted Michelle into believing their lies too easily.
Or could they have? As sharp-witted as her mother, Michelle resembled what Sophie must have been before her profession hardened her. Michelle was the woman he wished Sophie had been. A woman he could have loved.
“Don’t be stupid!” he said in a growl under his breath. He had no need for any woman who did not sleep by his side. He might have seduced pretty Michelle, for she was clearly eager for his caresses, but the debt he owed her mother stood in the way. Sophie had not saved his life so he could ruin her daughter’s.
He stood when the curtain was pushed aside.
Frau Lepper bustled out, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I have several patterns that interest your dear friend.”
He nodded absently in response to the modiste’s questions as Michelle emerged. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Satisfaction flowed over him, surprising him. This visit to Frau Lepper’s shop had been meant to be nothing more than a part of his scheme to complete his work quickly and efficiently. Yet his gaze was drawn again and again to Michelle’s joyous smile.
When she glanced at him, he kept his thoughts hidden. He must not allow her to gauge them as he did hers. Looking past her to where the seamstress’s assistant had found another girl to help her carry the armfuls of samples, he pointed. “That one,” he said in an arrogant tone. “The gold one. It would be the perfect foil for your dark hair, Liebchen.”
“Alexei, it is so garish,” Michelle replied.
He grasped her shoulders and turned her so only she could see his face. “The gold would look lovely on you, my love.” He stroked her cheek, but she shook her head vigorously. “Michelle,” he warned in a taut voice.
Michelle almost told Alexei the truth. It was not the gown that bothered her. It was her breath-stealing reaction to his touch. How he would roar with laughter if he learned how his simple caress sent a storm of pleasure along her! Her yearning for him nearly ripped every thought from her head.
“Michelle?”
Forcing a smile, she said as if she were his dutiful, adoring mistress, “Of course, Alexei, if you wish, I shall try the gold dress on. It looks large.”
“It can be pinned,” Frau Lepper chimed in. “This way, Fraulein.” Her smile showed she had been listening closely.
Behind the curtain, Michelle shed her dark gown with Frau Lepper’s help. The young assistant lifted the gold silk over Michelle’s head. It enlightened her skin. While the seamstress hooked up the back and put pins in place to make the dress fit, Michelle stared at her reflection.
Could that elegant woman in the glass be her? Her breasts were accented by the deep neckline. White lace at the high waistline matched the edging on sleeves dripping over her shoulders. When she moved, the gown whispered a song.
Frau Lepper smiled so broadly her bulbous cheeks threatened to split. “A bit long, but otherwise ’tis perfect, Fraulein. Perfect.”
Her assistant nodded in awed silence.
Michelle wanted to agree. The dress was perfect, and, in it, she felt perfect, too. Her eyes sparkled back at her as she wondered what Alexei would say when he saw her in it. Suddenly she could not wait to find out.
She pushed aside the curtain. He stood by the window with his back to her. Something was bothering him, for his back was rigid. Wanting to ask what was wrong, she remembered her role as his empty-headed mistress who was interested only in the luxuries he could provide her.
“Alexei? What do you think?” she asked.
What he said under his breath as he faced her she could not hear, but the glow of admiration in his green eyes was unmistakable. “Turn,” he commanded.
“It does not look so good in the back where it is pinned,” she replied with a laugh.
“Let me judge for myself.”
Obeying, she listened to the silk brushing the floor. The shimmering material seemed to possess a life of its own.
When she faced him again, he said, “No, I don’t think so. It is not right for you, Liebchen.”
Her eyes widened. “Alexei, I—”
“I said no, Liebchen.”
She wanted to argue, but recalled how she must act. It galled her to be so meek. “As you wish.”
Shocked, Frau Lepper motioned for her assistant to help Michelle take off the wonderful gown. The young woman said nothing as she unhooked the dress. Hanging it carefully, she redid the many buttons along Michelle’s black frock.
Michelle bit back her disappointment. For a few seconds she had been a princess. Pushing aside the curtain, she said quietly, “I am ready to leave when you are, Alexei.”
“Good.” He handed the modiste a card with their address on it. As he helped Michelle with her cloak, he stated, “Bring the things I ordered to us as soon as possible. You may fit Michelle at our apartment.”
“Of course, Count Vatutin. Good day, my lord.” A tinge of pity filled her voice as she added, “Good day, Fraulein D’Orage.”
“Michelle?”
At Alexei’s question that was clearly a command, Michelle put her fingers on his arm. He led her out into the cold slap of the wind. She sighed. She would have been thrilled with what he bought her, if he had not suggested she try on the incredible dress. Even in her dreams she had never imagined herself in such a magnificent gown.
But she would from this point forward.
Alexei handed her into the coach and shouted the address of their next stop to Rusak, who was huddled under a blanket on the box. She did not pay attention, wishing they could go back to the apartment. In her private room, she might convince herself to forget the silly dream of wearing such a dress.
When the carriage started, Alexei’s arm settled around her shoulders. He smiled broadly. “Liebchen, I knew you would be perfect in this charade. No one would have guessed that you were not truly disappointed to leave that dress behind.”
“I was,” she blurted. When his smile faded, she mumbled, “I mean, I—”
“You thought I would buy you a gown like that?”
“You were so insistent I try it. I have never seen a dress like it before.”
“That gown was not for you, Michelle.”
“Why not?” She shrugged off his arm. “Because I am just a language mistress in a girls’ school?”
His eyes narrowed as he pulled her back to him again. “Because you looked so incredibly enticing that, if you appeared among the Beau Monde in it, you would create a sensation that even this blasé city would long remember. Some charming gentleman would woo you away with an offer you might find more economically favorable than the one I have made you.”
“How dare you!”
He caught her hand as it rose. “Now, now, Michelle,” he warned with a stiff laugh, “that was not meant to be an insult.”
“I shall not be any man’s mistress. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”
“So you have no interest in love?”
“Don’t twist my words! If I met the right man, I could love him.”
“And marry him?”
“Of course.”
With a snort of derision, he nodded. “I should have guessed. The schoolteacher in her convent—”
“St. Bernard’s is not a convent. I have told you that over and over.”
“You are afraid of any emotions that might make you lose that prim gentility. Fraulein D’Orage is a puppet, speaking as she has been taught, never with an original thought in her head.” He cursed imaginatively. �
�If your mother could see you, she would regret ever sending you to that school.”
“Maman had her life. I have mine. If it is too conventional for you, that is your problem, not mine. I choose to wait for love, not its tepid cousin lust.”
With a laugh, he swept his arm around her and tugged her into his arms. “Tepid? How did you get the idea that lust is tepid? It eats like an ulcer within you until you can think of nothing but soft lips and softer curves. In the middle of the night, you wake to think of eyes as ebony as the shadows clinging to the corners of your lonely bed. Unable to sleep again, you ache for those eyes looking up from beneath you as sable hair covers your pillow. Are those tepid symptoms, Liebchen?”
“You are talking nonsense.”
“Am I?”
His mouth pounced on hers, and she put up her hands to push him away. Her fingers spread across his waistcoat when he deepened the kiss. His arms cradled her as his tongue slipped along her lips before delving within. When his mouth glided along her face toward her ear, she trembled with the longing that refused to be silenced. Her uneven breath pulsed through her, a counterpoint to her fiercely beating heart.
“Do you want me to show you more?” he whispered. “To show how I want to touch every inch of you with my fingers and my lips? To warm your skin with mine? To be a part of you at the very moment you learn what ecstasy truly is? To—”
“No,” she said in a moan, “don’t say anything else.”
He nibbled along her neck until she steered his mouth back to hers. She needed to taste his lips, to have them burn into her with their delicious fire.
Slowly he released her. “As you can see, Liebchen, there is nothing tepid about the longing that sends a flame along your skin.”
“Alexei—” She bit back the rest of her words when he turned away and stared out the window.
Every time she was certain she was learning something about him, she discovered that she knew nothing of him. She was beginning to fear she never would find the single clue to explain why he treated her as he did, bringing her into his arms one minute, then pushing her away the next. Had he been honest about the dress? Did he really believe some man might try to lure her away from him? And had that been jealousy she had seen in his eyes when he talked about another man coming into her life?
She shivered. He had spoken often of the debt he owed her mother, a debt he would repay by protecting Sophie D’Orage’s only child. She looked from the ring on her hand to his back.
One thing was certain. As he had from the beginning, he intended to keep her away from the truth concealed behind his too charming smile.
Chapter Eight
Michelle stretched to reach the buttons in the middle of her back. She had not guessed her new clothes would be a problem. The heavier buttons on her dresses from St. Bernard’s had been simple to close, although Elfie and she always helped each other dress. These ethereal gowns might look like a summer cloud, but they were vexing when she did not have help getting dressed.
You need someone to help you dress, Liebchen. We shall have to think about finding you a husband.
She scowled, not wanting to hear Alexei’s jesting tones in her head. Him find her a husband? She thought not! He probably would approach that as if it were another hoax he could perpetrate on her. For the past week, he had delighted in shifting her hairbrush on her dressing table to let her know whenever he wandered into her room. She had ignored it, hoping he would stop. That had been useless, for he enjoyed jesting about everything.
Her hands fell to her sides as she sighed. No, Alexei could be serious about his work, and she suspected he would be equally grave about finding her a husband. She did not want a husband. Maman might have been right. No ties to a spouse, so she could live the life she wanted.
With a hushed whisper from her dress, Michelle sat at the dressing table and put her fingers on the hairbrush. It was impossible, but she could almost believe the heat from Alexei’s fingers remained on it.
She had anticipated this new wardrobe almost as eagerly as she had waited for Maman to come to visit St. Bernard’s. Alexei and Rusak went out night after night to call on other delegates to the Congress. She could not accompany them while dressed in her clothes from St. Bernard’s. Finally she could be free of her prison, but how could she leave the apartment with her dress half-hooked?
Frustrated, she pulled off the gown and surged around the dressing screen Alexei had found for her. She hung the dress back in the armoire. There must be another she could manage alone. Peering into the wardrobe, she tried to decide which one would be best.
“Nothing to wear? I find that hard to believe, Liebchen.”
Whirling, she kept the door of the wardrobe between her and Alexei. “How dare you come in without knocking?”
“I did knock.”
She tried to ignore how handsome he appeared in his new clothes. His stylishly tied cravat was as white as his trousers. The green of his waistcoat deepened the color of his eyes. He pushed back his tousled blond hair to a rakish angle as he stepped closer.
“I did not hear you,” she said, tightening her grip on the door, “and I certainly did not grant you permission to enter.”
“I thought you might want to show me what Frau Lepper sent over along with her bill.” His gaze dropped, and she realized her legs were visible below the door. Her chemise reached only to midcalf, so he was offered a splendid view. He grinned. “I like what I see so far. Why don’t you let me see the rest?”
“Get out!”
“Now, now, Liebchen. Is that any way to say thank-you?”
“Alexei, I am not properly attired. Please leave.”
“I assume you need help hooking up.”
Recognizing defeat, she sighed. He was correct. She could not manage these new dresses alone. Pulling the one she had already tried on out of the wardrobe, she dropped it over her head. She drew on the short, puffed sleeves and smoothed it along her. Holding the back closed, she kept the neckline from drooping to reveal the top of her chemise.
“Will you hook me?” She kept her back to him to avoid meeting the amusement in his eyes. She did not want to think of what else would be glowing there, but she sensed his eagerness in the tips of his fingers as he closed the small buttons. “I need a maid to help me dress.”
“I know, Michelle.” At his abrupt seriousness, she looked at him. “Stand still,” he ordered, before continuing. “We need someone to help you and to manage this household. You shall be too busy now to tend to the apartment.”
“I do not mind the cleaning.”
“But you shall not have the time to tend to it.” His chuckle teased her ear as he latched the last few hooks. “The problem is that I need someone I can trust. There are certain things that I would not want a servant privy to.”
“Things?” She whirled to face him, not astounded to see the disquiet on his face. “What sort of things?”
“Just things.” He sat on the chair and held out her satin slippers. “Things you do not need to know about now.”
Her frustration sharpened. “One thing I do know. I do not want you barging in here whenever you want to.” She slipped her feet into the elegant shoes. “Don’t think I will be insulted if you ignore me. I can assure you that the revulsion is mutual.”
Standing, he put his finger under her chin and tipped her head back gently. He smiled. “You do not find me repulsive, Liebchen. When I touch you, even accidentally, you soften. You want me to hold you.”
“You are flattering yourself.” She backed away from him before her hands could slide up his arms, proving her words were a lie. The upright of the bed halted her sharply, and she winced.
His hand settled on her shoulder as she clutched the tester behind her. So easily he proved her wrong. So desperately she wanted him to pull her into his arms and to his lips. As her fingers touched his face, he caught them and pressed them to his lips. She closed her eyes as he ran his tongue along one of her fingers.
�
��Do not be foolish, Liebchen,” he murmured. “Stay angry at me. That is much safer for you.”
“Alexei—”
“We must go,” he said quietly.
“Go?”
“Now.” Reaching into her armoire, he pulled out her new coat. The red velvet coat was edged with ermine at the hem and along the short cape over the shoulders. He handed it to her and pulled a hatbox from the top of the armoire. Tossing the top on the bed, he drew out a bonnet of the same red velvet, which was also lined with matching fur.
He put the bonnet on awry. Before she could straighten it, he took her coat and held it up. She slipped her arms into it and hooked the satin frogs at her throat. Tying the bonnet’s ribbons beneath her chin, she followed him into the front room. He threw his cape over his shoulders, nearly striking her in the face.
“Watch out!” she cried.
“Don’t stand so close then, Liebchen. Not only could you get hurt, but you are going to prove that you have not heeded a single word I just said to you.”
She reached to untie the satin ribbons of her bonnet. “If you think I am going anywhere with you when you are in such a churlish mood, you are wrong.”
“No, you are wrong.” He captured her hands and drew them away from her bonnet. “I have heard too many questions about you. You must come with me tonight.”
“What sort of questions?”
“Either someone saw us going to Frau Lepper’s or gossiped with her about you. The curiosity is interfering with my work. People are more interested in discovering the truth about Count Vatutin’s mistress than in discussing the news from the Congress.” Placing her hand on his arm, he tapped his hat onto his head. “’Tis time for you to go to work, Liebchen.”
“I understand.” She could not argue when this was part of what she had agreed to do. Yet she was troubled by making this masquerade public. Did you have to play these games, Maman? The only way to get an answer to that was to ask Alexei, and she did not intend to do that.
She should be grateful that they would be among a crowd. When they were alone, it was easy to let snarled comments cover dangerous emotions. And far too easy to drift into his arms.
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