Seized by Love (18 page)

"Please,
Monsieur," Alisa whispered faintly, giving Nikki a sidelong pleading
glance, her position as his mistress so flagrantly exposed when he held her on
his lap—for all the world to see.

"No," he said
simply, in command of his world and hers, no explanation beyond that required
for a man of his unconditional power. And he held her tightly while he
peremptorily ordered a wardrobe that brought the light of avarice to Madame
Vevay's greedy eyes. Nikki noted Al-isa's distress as the procedure went on for
a protracted time and he almost felt sorry for her. But not quite.

He would have to buy her an
extravagant
bijou,
he thought. She gave him so much pleasure, he must
try to erase the distress. Perhaps he could assuage the bitterness she felt at
being a kept woman. That emerald necklace he had seen last month at Faberge's.
Such lavish gifts had always been highly successful in the past. All women were
irresistibly warmed by the brilliant sparkle of emeralds and rubies.

"That will be all,
Madame Vevay. My cousin will wear this becoming morning dress and we can expect
a minimum number of dresses to be delivered within two days, the rest to
follow?"

"Yes, most
assuredly!" the modiste promised him. She would bring in extra
seamstresses to fill this order immediately, she thought.

"Thank you, then,
Madame, we'll see ourselves out."

She accepted her dismissal
graciously and amid effusive thanks left the green and gold salon.

"I have no doubt overwhelmed
you," Nikki said teasingly, "by my generosity and superb expertise in
female fashion. I trust you approve my taste and"—he paused
briefly—"please accept my apologies." He grinned suddenly. "This
shameful conduct is quite common to me."

"Why, Nikki?" she
asked quietly. "Why all this? Why me?" Alisa questioned, looking at
him with resentful liquid eyes, perhaps questioning herself as well for not
hating him more. For not hating the man at all—but only his careless authority
over her life.

Because I have need for
your body that drugs my mind, he thought. Because you and your charming
daughter warm my spirits, he thought. "Because," he said instead.

Alisa, still seated on
Nikki's lap, attempted to coldly stare him entirely out of countenance, but his
amiable smile continued to play on his handsome face. "I should hate
you," she softly said.

"But you don't,"
he said as softly.

"Still, for all
that," she quietly declared, "I won't be your mistress." Her
statement stopped him for a moment, so opposite were their opinions—but he
wished her to be happy, so he perjured himself without a qualm. "Can we be
friends, then?"

With the unpredictability
of her sex, she did a complete volte-face and suddenly she smiled. "I'd
very much like to be friends."

"And Nikki, you're
much too generous both to me and Katelina."

Tears abruptly welled into
her beautiful large eyes. "How can I ever repay you?" A poignant
smile of gratitude flickered across her mouth.

"Nonsense. It gives me
pleasure. Now, don't cry, darling," Nikki said in an oddly constrained
voice. "You and Katelina both bring me enormous joy." He kissed Alisa
tenderly. "Come, now, no more tears, let's go and see the child's new
train."

The next week flew by.
Nikki did contrive to stay home every evening, and Alisa tried not to think at
all; she only felt. Nikki was sorely missed at the Yacht and Nobles' Clubs
gaming tables, but when his name came up, the raised eyebrows and leering
glances explained his sudden propensity for the comforts of home.

"If I had that beauty
warming my bed, no one should see me about town until I was too old to care or
dead from trying," one coarse but expressive young officer remarked.

"Nikki deigns to show
up for morning reviews," another man noted, "and immediately leaves
at noon when they're over, and rumor has it he's cast off Sophie."

Alisa and Katelina in
Nikki's morning absences had been squired around by Aleksei, who felt honored
to be seen in the company of such an intriguing beauty. Alisa, on her part,
enjoyed the pleasant companionship of Nikki's youthful cousin, who generously
gave up his time to escort them sight-seeing. Nikki found that sort of thing a
bore, and Alisa would never see the beauties of Petersburg if she waited for
him to accompany her. In the course of the next few days she and Katelina saw
everything of interest. They saw the Winter Palace just down the street from
Prince Kuzan's pink marble palace. The Winter Palace, not yet completely
restored since the fire in 1863, was now colored brickred by Stussov and Brullov
instead of its original pale green. Aleksei conducted them not only through the
Her-mitage galleries with its magnificent Ecole Russe, but through suites of
rooms not accessible to the ordinary visitor. They strolled through the Summer
Garden with its shady walks and innumerable marble statues which Peter the
Great had collected from Italy, visited the very first palace occupied by Peter
the Great, the Summer Palace, built on a modest and intimate scale by Trezzini
in a section of the Summer Garden. They viewed the forbidding Fortress of Peter
and Paul, magnificent rather than beautiful, built across the Neva. They whiled
away one whole morning at the Kunstkamera, the first library and museum in
Russia with its collection of curiosities ranging from Chinese manuscripts to
stuffed birds but particularly noted for its stupendous collection of Scythian
jewelry.

Another morning of
sight-seeing disclosed the wonders of Tsarskoe Selo with its dazzling
interiors, the Amber Room,
⁵
its walls completely paneled in amber,
pale as honey, the glass-beaded room, the Malachite Room, Cameron's Lyons Room,
the walls and furniture covered in pale yellow Lyons silk woven with a pattern
of branches and little birds, Catherine's own "snuffbox," which is
what she called her private boudoir, paneled with opaline white glass and gilt
applique ornament. The doors were framed in columns of ultramarine-colored
glass.

Another morning took them
by steamer down the tide-less, saltless Gulf of Finland to view Peterhof,
Rastrelli's fabulous yellow and white country residence built originally by
Peter the Great to rival Versailles. On the grounds were two Imperial palaces
and many little summerhouses adorned and fitted with every beauty that wealth
and taste could achieve. The gardens eclipsed the finest in Europe, crowned by
the magnificent cascade and gilded fountains shooting glittering spray that
flowed into the sea.

Color abounded in the city
architecture and pale, delicate hues delighted the eye at every turn: The
lemon-yellow and white of the Admiralty and Pushkin Theatre, the rich blue of
the Smol'nyi Cathedral, the coral of Men-shikov's Palace. All the rococo
facades stuccoed in beautiful pastels, lilac, salmon, pistachio-green served as
a foil for the starkly Neo-Classic Russian Empire architecture of Alexander I
and Nicholas I. Beautiful sparkling canals intersected the three main arteries
that spread from Admiralty Square. Alisa was truly affected by the beauty of
this Venice of the North.

Unknown to the small party
of sight-seers, each day two other attendants accompanied the group.
Scrupulously remaining in the background, not a difficult task in the polyglot
babble of the diverse nationalities and costumes jostling each other in the
capital of the Empire. The streets contained quantities of barbaric costumes.
There were Cossacks from the Don, Georgians from the Caucasus, Tatars,
Persians, natives from Central Asia, Chinese, Laplanders, as well as the motley
crew of Russian peasants, priests, monks, nuns.

In this floating stream of humanity
Forseus's trackers silently stalked their quarry, persistent as a conscience.
Alisa had not once ventured alone outside the marble palace, but they patiently
waited, the six men changing shifts every eight hours, so one pair of men, four
earnest eyes, knew Alisa's whereabouts twenty-four hours a day, and only waited
for an opportunity in which she was alone to carry her back to her husband.
Forseus wasn't so foolhardy as to come to grips publicly with such an
illustrious, powerful figure as Prince Kuzan. Those persons privileged to have
the Emperor recognize their family in friendship were above the law, and
Forseus knew it.

The days of sight-seeing
occasionally concluded with a drive out to the Point, where the fashionable
world went to see the sun set across the Gulf of Finland. It was a beautiful
sight, the sky glowing crimson and gold, the bay as smooth as glass, reflecting
the beds of rushes that rose here and there, one or two boats serenely gliding
over the glistening water. Alisa would sometimes stay until the crimson faded
into evening's twilight. These beauties of nature, however, were wasted on the
unseen eyes, steadfastly fixed on their prey.

One morning several days
later, Nikki was in his dressing room, struggling into his uniform; he was
already a half hour late for formation and becoming frustrated. Finally, fully
attired in white tunic with red facings and dark trousers with red stripes, he
sat on a low chair, thrusting his foot into an immaculately polished riding
boot, cursing softly.

"Where the hell is
that damn valet when I need him," he muttered distractedly. Alisa, garbed
in a pale aquamarine flower-embroidered silk wrapper, had been watching him
from the doorway.

"If you recall,"
Alisa chided him gently, "you distinctly warned your poor valet more than
ten days ago that you didn't want to be disturbed by him in the morning until
further notice."

"I did?" Nikki
asked, raising his head and lifting one eyebrow quizzically at Alisa. Breaking
into a broad grin as she flushed under his gaze, he said, "So I did,
didn't I?" He chuckled. "And now I pay for my pleasures by having to
contend with dressing myself," he teased.

"Could I help?"
Alisa offered as she moved toward his seated figure.

"No, dear, don't
bother," he amiably replied, sliding on his second boot. "I'm fussing
for no good reason. I'm quite able to dress myself. I'm just in a damnable
hurry. My late arrivals are beginning to raise comment."

"Nikki?" Alisa
began hesitantly. "Do you have one minute to spare?"

"Of course,
love," Nikki remarked placidly as he stood before a large cheval glass and
began adjusting the silver epaulets on the tunic of his undress uniform. He was
buckling on his belt, and when Alisa didn't continue, he prompted her quietly,
"What is it, my dove?"

"Well—" she
faltered, unable to find suitable words to continue.

"Well?" Nikki
rejoined, looking at Alisa intently as he noted the obvious timidity in her
demeanor.

"I'm… that is… I'm
quite sure I'm pregnant," Alisa blurted out, and nervously dropped her
eyes from the piercing glance that quickly ranged the length of her body.

"How sure?" Nikki
asked conversationally, his composure unruffled by the disclosure.

"About three weeks
sure," she answered, astonished at Nikki's calm reaction. Alisa hadn't
known what to expect, and her nerves had been on edge the last few days, trying
to bring herself to break the news. It wasn't unheard of to be promptly sent
packing upon presenting tidings like that. And she had nowhere to go.

"Please, sweetheart,
relax, you look quite anxious. I flatter myself I am as hardened a reprobate as
most men, and I indulge in numerous vices," Nikki stated with a faint
smile, "but rest assured, casting pregnant females into the streets is not
one of them." He looked at Alisa closely. "One must expect such
things, after all," he continued tranquilly. "Surely you didn't hope
to escape that condition for long when one considers the diligence with which
we pursue our —ah—friendship," he drawled.

"You're not
angry?" Alisa asked, incredulous.

"Angry? Whatever for?
Come now, dear, give me a kiss good-bye. I really must be off, for Cernov's
jests are becoming cruder every day, and I'm damned late."

Since she'd realized she
was pregnant, Alisa had been uneasy. Anxiety was uppermost in her mind. She
hadn't hoped for another child from her marriage with Forseus and had given up
such thoughts. But she also hadn't wished to become pregnant by Prince Kuzan,
especially since their relationship was so undefined. This child nurtured
within her body, a living, breathing extension of herself, couldn't be
forgotten, set aside, or rejected. It had overwhelmed her thoughts the past few
days, and now she was relieved to have shared her secret.

Nikki, for his part,
accepted the fact calmly as part of the order of things, a circumstance bound
to happen. For Nikki, a pregnant mistress was a reasonable consequence of their
irresponsible self-indulgence. He really must buy her some extravagant toy,
some bauble to cheer her up, was his immediate reaction. He perceived his obligation
in this as in all other responsibilities of his rank. He had affectionate
feelings for Alisa, the habits of a lifetime refusing to acknowledge any more
powerful emotions.

Alisa in the time-honored
tradition of keeper of the womb was compelled to accept what goodwill Nikki
offered; she had no money, no home, no relatives to turn to. But she had other
reasons, less prosaic reasons; she passionately loved this quixotic, reckless,
enigmatic, oddly gentle man.