Seized by Love (34 page)

Nikki was able to
momentarily forget the daunting prospect of marriage while involved in the
throes and immediate aftermath of making love, but that evening Nikki resorted
to several bottles of brandy to escape the impending demise of his
bachelorhood. Such finality, it was appalling. Alisa nervously sat beside him,
reading, as he gloomily drank himself into oblivion.

The next morning he felt
shaky as he hauled himself into the saddle and in a state of philosophic
resignation began the journey back to town; two carriages carrying Alisa, her
daughter, and servants, the grooms and outriders, fifteen trackers, and a
reluctant bridegroom rode forth with two of the trackers flanking him the whole
way. They even followed when he stopped to relieve a call of nature.

"Really," Nikki
protested. "This 'protection' is quite unnecessary."

"Sorry, Lord
Prince," the taller one solemnly intoned. "Orders from Prince
Mikhail."

It appeared the old boy was
dead serious and Nikki finally resigned himself to the constant company of the
two enormous men. They even slept on either side of him with a light leather
braid knotted around his waist and their wrists.

Arriving back in town five
days later, Alisa was immediately whisked away by Kaisa-leena for dress fittings
and other womanly pursuits necessary to organize a gigantic wedding.

Prince Mikhail summoned
Nikki to his study within minutes of their return and flatly informed Nikki
that he would be married in two days time. The invitations had been delivered
and even on such short notice the responses were all in the affirmative. No one
ever declined an invitation from Prince Kuzan, and furthermore, this wedding
had all the indications of a delicious scandal. It would have been humanly
impossible to keep the curious away. Prince Nikolai Kuzan actually marrying;
all the servants' gossip hinted at an exceedingly recalcitrant bridegroom and
an
enceinte
bride only one week divorced. How delightfully
titillating. Whom would the child look like? Most assuredly Nikki, for one
could not contemplate for a second his marital capitulation to a woman carrying
another man's child. And yet—speculation ran on.

For two days Nikki's
bodyguards followed him everywhere; discreetly, of course, in order to arouse
as little gos-sip as possible. On the eve of his wedding, Nikki descended the
marble staircase splendidly attired in white linen mufti, for the summer heat
had settled on the jewel of the Baltic. His faithful companions at his heels,
Nikki stopped on the last step, turned, and glared at the two guards who had
stopped respectfully three steps higher, their pleasant faces tranquilly
composed in spite of Nikki's obvious displeasure.

"Good God!" Nikki
complained irritably. "Enough's enough. I'm just going to my stag tonight
and promise on my mother's soul that I'll be back in time for my wedding
tomorrow."

Johanos just shrugged his
shoulders and spread his hands in apology.

"Sorry, Lord Prince,
your father's orders." He stared impassively into space.

"Damnation!"
Nikki exploded. "If you say 'father's orders' one more time, Johanos, I
swear, I'll do you bodily harm." He strode, cursing, out the door into the
summer night, vowing to drink them under the table. Then he'd be free of their
unwelcome company.

He should have known better
than to attempt to drink a Finnish woodsman under the table. The brandy and
champagne flowed freely. All Nikki's fellow officers and friends were bent on
teasing him remorselessly as Nikki, whom everyone considered the least likely
to succumb to wedded bliss, was about to leave the ranks of bachelorhood.

With a drunken earnestness
and a maudlin sentimentality over losing one of his drinking cohorts to
Parson's mousetrap, Illyich cornered Nikki late in the evening and whispered
conspiratorily, "I never thought you'd do it, Nikki. Why in hell's name do
you consider marrying your mistress? I thought your greatest fear was the
marriage block."

"That, my dear
Astrakan," Nikki replied smoothly, "is my second greatest fear. The
first is that of freezing my vitals off on my father's estate in Siberia."

Illyich's eyebrows rose.

"So you perceive,
perhaps, my friend, how things go on at the Kuzans. Although when one considers
that half the genius and energy of Russia has been interred in Siberia for two
centuries, it's entirely possible that its domestic society has improved, but I
prefer not to be put to the necessity of discovering whether this is
true," Nikki finished, and the unwelcome thought induced him to refill his
glass once again.

"So that's it. My
sympathies, Mon
Colonel.
" In his usual kind humor, Illyich
attempted to cheer his friend. "But she's very lovely, eh? And warm in
bed, I warrant. Things could be worse, Nikki. Think of the advantages."

"Somehow, at the
moment, I can see only the disadvantages," Nikki muttered. "A pox on
the female sex, As-trakan," he stated sourly. "Here, you need a
drink."

Both glasses were refilled
and tossed down.

Several hours later one of
the youthful officers in Nikki's regiment who was not fully apprised of the
true feelings of his colonel made the gaffe of offering his felicitations on
the coming nuptials.

"Go to hell!"
snarled the Prince.

The following afternoon, a
pale and silent Nikki faced his father across the library desk.

"You returned home
after dawn. I trust you enjoyed yourself at your bachelor party," Prince
Mikhail said in a polite, distant voice.

Nikki lifted his shoulders
in an eloquent shrug and remained silent.

"I won't keep you
long, so you may retire to gather your strength for the ceremony and
festivities this evening.

However, I have a few
simple remarks I wish to leave with you.

"You are to see to
Alisa and to that other life. I trust I can with confidence leave them in your
hands. I hope it is unnecessary to tell you that I expect a tighter bridle on
your excesses. I don't care to hear rumors like those already circulating about
Vladimir. The Emperor is quite irritated."

Nikki didn't deign to
respond.

"I advise you,
Nikolai," his father continued, unperturbed, "that I would be pleased
if you did not amuse yourself with Sophie again. Although I'm certainly worldly
enough to understand that faithfulness is not a necessity in every marriage,
indeed in few, apparently, may I remind you that Sophie is brazen enough to
possibly cause public embarrassment to Alisa."

"Sophie's not one to
be easily put off, Father."

"I wish you to make
the effort. She is a decadent slut at all accounts;
une femme facile,
in contrast to Sophie, takes on the aura of saintliness."

"You speak from
experience, no doubt?" Nikki's eyebrows rose as he flashed his father a
questioning glance.

"Naturally." The
Prince didn't lower his gaze.

In spite of himself, Nikki
grinned. "I'll be damned! You must admit, sire, she is nonpareil in her
bawdy role. A damned fine cunt."

"I am relieved to
learn," the old Prince said mildly, "that your heart is not
involved."

Nikki laughed harshly,
raised a lazy eyebrow, and commented rather caustically, "Hearts are not
in Sophie's style, mon
pere,
only stiff cocks."

Blandly ignoring this
vulgarity, Prince Mikhail tranquilly resumed his lecture. "Your mother and
I will retire to the country immediately after the festivities. Take care for
the mother of my grandchild." His voice was all the more deadly for not
bearing the slightest trace of emotion.

"While I'm all for
family, Father, I fear I don't have the dynastic instinct as strongly as
you," Nikki replied with a quiet contempt.

"I don't need your
impertinence," Prince Mikhail said in that same chilling murmur.
"Simply do as you're told and reflect on the consequences of my wrath if
you don't."

He waited patiently for ten
seconds, and upon receiving no answer, rose from his chair, saying,
"Please be on time at the chapel; we are curtailing the service in order
to alleviate any unnecessary standing for Alisa." He walked from the room,
leaving Nikki slumped in his chair.

Nikki sat there for almost
half an hour, his mind blank of any thoughts or emotions, his body fatigued
from the long night of drinking. Hauling himself to his feet, he retraced his
steps to his room and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. The next thing he
knew, he was being shaken awake. His bath had been prepared and all his silk
finery spread out ready for dressing.

Within the hour Nikki was
traversing the numerous hallways and passageways that led to the family chapel.
His cousin Aleksei and Aleksei's brother were standing as witness for him and
followed closely on his heels as he strode rapidly and mindlessly to his
wedding. The chapel was small, holding no more than two hundred persons. When
Nikki entered the gilded and stuccoed room flooded with the flickering light of
thousands of candles and perfumed with the scent of tens of thousands of
flowers, a sigh broke from the assembled guests. He was fifteen minutes late.

Nikki strolled across the
front of the chapel and took his place under a large canopy of trelliswork
interwoven with orchids. That moment Alisa reached the main door and began to
walk down the aisle. A beautiful chant began.

She was breathtakingly
flawless in a creme-colored silk overlaid with deep flounces of magnificent
lace, her pregnancy perfectly concealed beneath the current fashionable tunic
which draped yards of material gracefully across the skirt front and pulled it
all in successive folds to the back of the waistline. The increasing waistline,
which had been the despair of Madame Vevay, was hardly evident to anyone who
had not known Alisa's original lithe slenderness. A small tiara of diamonds set
with cameos (a gift from Prince Mikhail) crowned her red-gold coiffure and held
in place the yards-long hand-made lace veil, valued at one thousand roubles an
arshin. The veil was of the most exquisite texture, the design of roses and
lilies so truthfully wrought that the flowers seemed raised from the surface.
Full twenty feet trailed gracefully behind. A pendant necklace of emeralds from
Nikki was around her neck, and Aleksei's gift of diamond earrings hung from her
ears.

Nikki caught his breath and
paused to absorb her beauty, then stepped forward boldly and took her hand in
his, drawing a quiet, subdued bride to his side. They both stood on a strip of
satin and were given a lighted candle to hold, which they retained throughout
the service. The priests wore dark blue velvet, much embroidered in silver, and
began reading the ceremony.

Nikki and Alisa both put
rings on their right hands, a glass of wine was given them, out of which they
both drank in turns three times, the priest holding it. Then elaborate golden
crowns were brought in, which the officiating priests waved before them and
which were then held over their heads by the best man, who became very tired
and had to change arms. The priest began to deliver a long and beautiful
recitative portion of the service in a magnificent bass voice, but abruptly cut
the anthem short after a meaningful curt nod from Prince Mikhail. Nikki's
father had been keenly observing Alisa, and noted a slight pallor beginning to
appear.

The ceremony was blessedly
abbreviated, and after intoning the benediction, the deep voice of the Russian
Orthodox priest pronounced them married before the eyes of God.

Alisa clung to Nikki's arm
as they passed from the chapel, feeling faint from the closeness of the small
room filled with people and heavy with the sweet odor of flowers and incense.
Nikki hadn't exchanged more than a dozen words with Alisa in the past two days,
for despite his attempt to graciously accept the imperious commands of his
father, a nagging anger consumed his thoughts.

Rationally, Nikki realized
that Alisa was just as much a victim of this farce as he, perhaps more, because
she was burdened with an unborn child. But judiciousness wasn't holding sway in
his emotions lately, and he quite unjustifiably and irrationally blamed Alisa
for his predicament.

"Chin up, my
dear," Nikki whispered sarcastically as he pulled Alisa's trembling body
up with a tight grasp under her arm. "You wouldn't want to faint before
all these pant-ingly inquisitive guests."

"I wouldn't feel like
fainting now if you could learn to keep your pants buttoned up," she
hissed petulantly as Nikki single-handedly held her upright and guided her out
into the hall.

"Remember the old
proverb, my love. A dog doesn't worry an unwilling bitch," he retorted
ignobly, and Alisa blanched visibly at the bitterly insulting remark.

Now she did look ready to
faint. Quickly, Nikki slipped his arm under her knees, picked her up, walked
rapidly to a curving staircase, and ran up a flight of stairs. Once out of
sight of the hundreds of guests, he continued more slowly to Alisa's room, the
long train and veil billowing behind them. She rested gratefully against
Nikki's black silk lapels.

Discordant emotions raced
through both their minds. Nikki wanted her and didn't want her, afraid of
perma-nence, while Alisa wanted him at all cost and deplored her submission and
bondage. But she was mostly aware of a desperate fatigue; she was tired of
parrying Nikki's acid remarks or frigid indifference, and she was too weary to
fence off any more verbal ripostes. Her sensibilities were bludgeoned, her
nerves frayed. Nothing mattered anymore. She was beyond hostility, beyond
apology, beyond caring for pride. She was in his arms, comforted by his strong
embrace. It was the only place she longed to be.