Alex nodded. “Remarkable art, indeed. Made by remarkable people. Do you know why I think that is? Italian people are passionate. They live with their hearts, with their feelings. Not like we do. Or the English. We must keep a social face, must we not? And the more money and higher title one has, the more one must ignore that we only live once. Like my brother. He is order. I am chaos.”
The reminder of Roman slashed Helen’s heart. “Order?” she asked.
Alex glanced at her, and his blue eyes softened. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. I was just wondering what you meant. I’ve always been puzzled by how strained your relationship was at times. If I had a sister…”
Alex shifted his weight to the other hip, turning to face her. “Roman has always been the ideal son compared me to. While he was in boarding school here in Russia and I was in England with my parents, every conversation at dinner was about his letters. How smart he was. How he excelled at school. How proud they were of him.”
Helen’s eyes widened, her vision blurring. She wondered if Roman knew how well his parents thought of him. From what he’d told her, she thought it must have been very lonely for him at the boarding school without his family. As lonely as it had been for her at the Herberts’s.
“And I?” Alex continued. “I was too ill-mannered. Too restless. I had no interest in Latin, French, or arithmetic. I was not good enough to be sent to the boarding school in Russia. My mother wanted to keep a closer eye on me, to keep me out of trouble. To keep me from bringing shame on our family.”
Helen blinked, her heart now aching for both of the brothers.
“And so you acted like that to—”
“It is hard to grow up in the shadow of a perfect brother. Someone had to be imperfect. Maybe I have gotten too carried away with being imperfect, taken things too far.”
This was the first time she had actually heard something from Alex that resonated within her.
“Alex, your brother is not perfect. Neither am I. Neither is anyone.”
Alex raised his brows and looked at her inquisitively. “Something tells me you got to know him better…”
She felt her cheeks blaze, and his eyes widened.
“What happened?” he asked.
She shook her head and looked at her hands. “Nothing you should concern yourself about.”
“Did he offend you?” Alex growled.
“No! No. Of course he did not. He—” a smile spread her lips. “He was just trying to make me feel at home while we waited for you. He took me to balls and ice-skating and saved Irina from drowning.”
Alex smiled thinly. “I see. That is not nothing, Helen.”
She blushed even more and looked around. She needed to change the subject. And she wanted to disappear from here. She was tired of pretending to be enjoying herself. “What would you do right now, Prince Alex, if you were not here, not under the obligation to be with me at this ball?”
He looked back at her, devils playing in his handsome blue eyes. He smiled a lazy, playful smile. “I do not think you would like to hear an answer to that, Helen.”
“No, I would. We are to be married. I should like to know the man I am about to spend my life with.”
He sighed, and his smile changed to a sad one. “What bad luck for you. I hope you know there will be no worse husband than me. Because right now, I would like nothing more than to go to Sergeant Abakov’s place. He is having a card game soiree with Swedish sailors, and he has a wolf. I hear he intends to make the men drink vodka and see who has the guts to put their hands into the wolf’s jaws. And I want to see what will happen.”
Helen closed her eyes briefly, a hard truth stilling her blood. How could she ever fall in love with this man? How could she ever have his children? She understood now that what she had felt before was not love but a girlhood fascination.
He was not ready to get married. He was not ready to start a family. He was still a wild, bored nobleman, a man who loved to dare life and test its limits.
And there was no man who would be worse for her than him.
At least until he grew up.
“Prince Alex, please take me home. I have such a bad headache. You would do me a great kindness.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. And relief, she thought. “Of course. Please, come.”
He offered his elbow and they walked towards the doors.
Helen would go lie down and sleep on her new realization about Alex. Although, in truth, she would probably think about Roman. He had disappeared after his proposal, and she had no idea where he was. Despite her anger, she was aching for him.
Was it possible that he had not gotten close to her as revenge against his brother? But it didn’t matter, she knew. She had come to Russia to marry Alex, and there was no way out.
December 22, 1813
But by the next morning, Helen had decided that she could not go through with it no matter the consequences. She couldn’t bear to dishonor her aunt and uncle or upset the Lipovs, but marrying Alex would only make him miserable—and her, as well.
“Jane, you need to pack our things. We go back to England with the next ship I can find.”
Jane, who was doing Helen’s hair, froze in mid brush stroke, staring at her with wide eyes. “Pack?”
“I am not marrying Prince Alex. I will not do this to him or to me. I’d rather be alone and in England than with a man who wants to avoid me so much he runs away with ballerinas. I just need to talk to him and his parents and let them know my decision. I cannot just leave.”
When Jane finished her hair, Helen went downstairs for breakfast. She was sure that Alex would still be asleep after a night of drinking, so she would tell his parents. She owed them that.
But, surprisingly, Alex was already at the table. Although he was pale, and dark circles ringed his bloodshot eyes. Also, he had a deep scratch across his cheekbone.
Helen hesitated a bit before she went into the dining room. “You are all here. Good. May I talk to Alex?”
Prince Pavel and Princess Anna watched them with concerned eyes. It did not escape Helen that they both, especially Princess Anna, looked tired.
Alex got to his feet and they went into the sitting room.
“I wanted to talk to you, too, Helen,” Alex said.
He took her hands in his. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior. For having neglected you. For not showing you enough appreciation.”
Helen held her breath. His words touched her, but in his eyes she saw the truth.
“Alex, deep down you know you will not change for me. And I would be pretending if I said that I believed you. And then, we would get married and both continue pretending. You that you love me and want a married, stable life. And I, that I love you. That I am not hurt by your neglect. That I don’t regret the decision to marry you.”
His face fell.
She took her hands from his. “And I do not want to live a life of pretense and regret. Not when I am married to you but love your brother.”
Alex raised his brows, but his eyes shone with respect. “Then you are showing more courage than I could ever have. Are you calling off the wedding?”
“I am. I am very sorry, Alex. I cannot spend my life with you when all you need is freedom. I will go and apologize to your parents for my decision. I am leaving for England with the next ship. Please, forgive me if I brought you any distress.”
Alex stared after her as she left the room. “You love Roman,” he said into the empty space.
Chapter 16
23rd December, 1813
“There you are,” said a familiar voice that immediately brought anger into Roman’s gut. “Drinking with wolves and bears is my domain. Do not dare take away the last thing that belongs to me.”
Roman shook his head and dropped vodka down his throat. His head was heavy from drinking for the past five days, ever since Helen had said no to him.
He had stormed out and could not return home. He’d gone from soire
e to soiree, choosing the drunkest, wildest instigators and following them. The wilder their plans, the better. He had fought two duels already, both of which had ended up with his opponents wounded, although not seriously, and him whole and healthy.
Unfortunately.
Now Roman sat on the floor in one of St. Petersburg’s finest hotels. Around him, his drinking partners lay on the floor, on the sofa, on the bed sleeping it off. He hugged a husky dog and tried to pour vodka down its throat. The beast turned his head away but refused to leave Roman’s side.
“How did you find me?” Roman asked.
“You left a trail of debauchery so bright and loud it put me to shame.” Alex came and stood in front of Roman, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look at you.”
“Go away.”
“Not until I give you something.”
“I do not need anything from you. You stole everything that was important. Go away.”
He knew he sounded drunk. He didn’t feel drunk, except for the heaviness of his head and his stumbling tongue.
Alex reached into his coat and removed something, then held it out for Roman. It was a dagger in a sheath, and Roman recognized it immediately. It was the Caucasian dagger he had put to Alex’s throat all those years ago.
Roman frowned and took it, studying it.
Yes, it was definitely the dagger. But the last person who’d had it was Helen. Helen…the thought of her made Roman feel as though the dagger was piercing his chest.
But if Alex had the dagger now—why did he have it? Where was Helen?
A bad feeling clutched at the pit of Roman’s stomach. He stood up slowly and looked at Alex’s face. Something was different about him. He was calmer. The layer of tension underneath his skin, as though he was always ready to plan mischief, was gone.
“What happened?” Roman asked.
“She is gone. She left for England.”
Roman sobered up immediately, the words hitting him like a giant snowball. “What?”
“She said she could not go through with the wedding. She does not love me. And she knows I do not love her.” He smiled and clapped Roman on the shoulder. “She loves you.”
Roman must have heard him wrong. He looked at the husky who was sitting with her tongue hanging out of her mouth and panting. She looked like Alex’s words confused her as much as they did Roman.
“She loves me?” Roman asked.
“That is what I said. She packed her things, left the dagger left the dagger because she said she could not bringing pain to herself and others anymore. She is probably on her way to the ship.”
Roman shook his head. “She does not want to marry me. I already proposed.”
Alex chuckled. “Look at us Lipov brothers. Trying to steal each other’s women. She thought you just wanted revenge on me. She does not know that you love her.”
“But I told her—”
“I doubt you ever told her.”
Roman stared into the space, thinking. “You are right. I did not.”
He looked up at Alex. “I must tell her.”
“And you must propose again. I talked to Father and Mother. The wedding has not been canceled. They agree for you to marry Helen. The church is booked, the feast is being prepared, the guests are coming. Who cares if it’s a different Lipov brother? All of St. Petersburg will talk of this wedding.”
“But I—”
Roman felt his throat working. Was this the brother he knew? The brother who had smashed Roman’s gift, the brother who had run away with the woman Roman loved, the brother who had always mocked him.
“Is this a trap? Some sort of a mean joke?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I owe you. What she said made me realize I have treated you poorly. She made me see what an ass I’ve been to you. I’ve just always thought you judged me. That I did everything wrong. That you were so perfect—the perfect prince, the perfect son, the perfect man—and I was imperfect in every sense. When we were boys, I just wanted you to pay attention to me. And then, with Kitty—I did not mean to cause you pain. I was not ready to marry Helen. To marry anyone. I am not yet ready to be a husband and a father.”
Roman watched Alex, bewildered. Was Roman drunk he was imagining this conversation? But no, he could see Alex quite clearly. Alex felt inferior to him? Alex, who had always been number one in every sense…
“I have made many mistakes, brother. But I never meant to ruin your life or Helen’s life. Now it is time for me to mend the wounds I’ve caused, and maybe time for me to become a better man. Here.”
He took out a round, silver ring box with the name “Lipov” engraved in the top. When Alex opened it, there was a ring—golden, with a black pearl in the middle and diamonds around it like flower petals.
“I bought it in Italy, for Helen,” Alex said. “You gave me the idea of a black pearl. Here, it is yours.”
Stunned, Roman took the ring and studied it. It was delicate and unique, just like Helen. Maybe Alex wasn’t ready to marry, but he had chosen the perfect ring for his would-be bride.
Alex grabbed his shoulder. “The carriage is waiting. Come. We must make haste if we want to catch her.”
“That was the last piece of luggage, Madame,” said Ivan the cabby. “Now if you and your maid would please get into the sledge, I will get you ready for the ride.”
Helen knew that as soon as she and Jane got into the open carriage, Ivan would cover their feet with hay and put layers of furs and sheepskins over them. Making their way down the frozen Neva River to Kronshtadt would take several hours, and there was just one tavern where they could change the horses and have a meal halfway there. The port of Kronshtadt was the gateway from Russia to the rest of Europe. Ships sailed rarely in winter, but the post still needed to go, and the mail ships took some passengers. Helen could not wait for more luxurious accommodations. She needed to get away. She would go to Lübeck, first, then find some way back to England.
“Thank you, Ivan,” Helen nodded and looked back for the last time at the grand buildings of St. Petersburg. She exhaled, trying to chase away the tears, her breath coming out in clouds.
The city had changed her. Well, not the city.
One person.
One person whom she wanted to see more than she wanted to take her next breath.
One person who had risked his life to save a little girl and made Helen feel visible for the first time in her life.
The morning was gray and warm, and it was the day before Christmas Eve. The day before her wedding. If she was not leaving now, how would her day go? Last preparations before tomorrow, probably. Trying on the dress again so that the seamstress could make final alterations. Listening to Jane’s advice on her hairstyle. Discussing the wine list with Princess Anna.
There were several carriages that departed from St. Petersburg’s post office to the ship in Kronshtadt.
Jane was already in the sledge, and Helen stepped into it to sit down. The post square filled with the muffled drum of hooves against cobblestones covered with mushy, dirty snow.
“Wait!” she heard a male voice in English. “Helen, wait!”
Still standing, she turned around, her heart beating like the wings of a bird. It was the Lipov sledged carriage, pulled by three horses. One door was half-opened, and through the window, Alex was waving at her. Oh no. He would not try to persuade her to change her mind and marry him, would he?
The carriage stopped, and Alex jumped out of it, but she saw that someone else stepped down on the other side. The man walked with too-familiar broad, determined strides, the edges of his black fur coat brushing the snow, and Helen’s stomach dropped a little. Could it be?
When Roman appeared from behind the carriage, Helen’s heart seemed to stop. She grabbed the edge of the sledge and fell onto the seat gracelessly.
“What are you two doing here?” Helen asked.
She studied Roman as he approached her, her skin warming up all over.
He looked terrible. Crumpled clothes, his hair a tangled mess, his eyes red and shadowed, stubble on his normally clean-shaven jaw. He looked directly at her, as though nothing around her even existed, as though she was his sole focus.
He grabbed the edge of the sledge next to her hand, almost touching her. The warmth of his fingers brushed hers as he loomed over her, dark and gorgeous, his eyes full of anguish.
Silence hung between them.
“What he is trying to say,” Alex said, stopping a few steps away from the sledge, “is that he came to stop you from leaving.”
Helen blinked.
“Yes,” Roman said, his voice hoarse.
Alex waited a bit, and when Roman did not continue, he added, “He wants you to stay.”
“Yes,” Roman said.
Alex waited a few more seconds, then came one step closer to Roman. “Brother, I cannot say everything for you. Come now. Talk.”
Helen swallowed. Roman did not move his eyes from her for a moment, devouring her. When Alex said those last words, Roman closed his eyes as though to gather his thoughts, then opened them again.
“God, I missed you, Helen. These five days— You are more beautiful than I could imagine.”
Helen’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you all right? You look like you are sick.”
“I am. I feel sick when you are not by my side.”
“He has been drinking himself to death,” added Alex. “Something I would do.”
“Shut up, Alex,” Roman said then turned to Helen. “I have been drinking myself to death, trying to forget you. Trying to numb the pain of imagining you with the wrong man.”
“I am standing right here,” Alex mumbled.
“Alex found me this morning, telling me that you broke off the wedding. That you want to leave. Please, do not leave, Helen. If you do not love him, can you for a moment imagine that you may love me one day?”
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