Seized by Love (38 page)

Nikki scarcely glanced at
the child whose birth might have come at too high a price. Alisa's hands had
released their limp grip on the sheets. He looked up at the midwife.

"Will she live
now?" he asked with a look of anguish, desperately afraid of the answer.

"She's young, Lord
Prince, and if no hemorrhaging begins, she has a chance."

"Thank you," he
said quietly. "For your work today, you shall live in comfort the rest of
your life. And if my wife lives, all the generations of your family will never
want. I can't lose her." Nikki moaned and his great dark head bowed over
the bed as he wept unashamedly.

He kept a vigil through the
night, not daring to sleep for fear the faint breathing would stop; offering a
thousand penances to God if he would let her live; invoking every charm and
superstition and childhood prayer to succor the frail, battered body of his
wife.

In the awful hell of guilt
and shame tearing at his brain, one thought reeled over and over, I love her
and she cannot die. And now he knew he had loved her from the first, even while
he suppressed and denied the human passion within himself. He'd never intended
to love her, had sworn never to love any woman again, didn't intend for her to
fall in love with him. It began as sport, a game to idle the time away, and now
he couldn't help himself. Was it too late now, too late to try to make her
happy, to give her the love she deserved?

He dropped his head into
his hands and whispered, "Please God, let her live…"

Hours later, in the
lightening dawn, Alisa's eyelids fluttered open and Nikki jumped from his
chair. Her eyes moved to the figure bending over her and she saw Nikki through
a golden haze.

"Is the baby
born?" she whispered weakly.

"Yes, love, a
boy." He reached for her limp hand.

Her eyes sparkled in
triumph. "You have your heir." She smiled faintly.

At too high a price, Nikki
agonized, but smiled in return and simply said softly, "Thank you, love,
for a fine son. Is there anything at all you want? Anything in the whole
world?"

Alisa smiled again and
whispered faintly, "Will you stay home some nights now?"

"Every night," he
promised, and thought, just live so I can stay home with you every night. Just
live!

"It was worth it,
then…" Her words trailed off as she gave a contented smile and sank back
into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Nikki stayed by her bedside
night and day for three days. Her pulse was weak but never failed. He talked
briefly to Katelina each morning and then immediately returned to his vigil. He
was unkempt and haggard, gaunt, exhausted, but now, on the third day, hopeful.
Alisa hadn't hemor-rhaged and he'd been able to feed her some light broth the
previous day. He could almost dare be optimistic.

Nikki had sent for his
parents immediately after the birth of his son, and his mother had competently
taken charge in the nursery. At first seeing his father, Nikki had begun to
apologize, but Prince Mikhail brushed aside his attempts indulgently.
"Apologies aren't necessary, my son. I, too, was young and fiercely
independent once. I only hope you can find as much happiness with Alisa as I've
found with your mother. All the hashish in the world can't replace the comfort
of a woman who loves you," said the old Prince with a wink. "I think
you will not be frequenting the Kirgiz night cafes so often, now, eh, my
boy?"

"No, Father, most
assuredly not." Nikki laughed softly.

Several days later Alisa,
feeling quite strong again, was sitting up in the gilded bed, holding her
large, healthy son and cooing into the pale blue eyes already full of golden
highlights. Nikki came into the room and marveled at the beauty of the
scene—Alisa, her rosy complexion restored, playing with his fine, robust son.
His child; immortality in his image; his mark left on the world.

Motioning for the maid to
take the baby away, Nikki walked over to Alisa and seated himself on the bed.
"Don't you want to hold your son?" Alisa asked.

"My dear, I've done
all the holding of babies 1 intend to this day. Katelina insisted we take Sasha
on our silver platter rides down the stairs, so early this morning we spent
most of an hour exhibiting this delightful occupation to the youngest member of
our family. I held Sasha in one arm, Katelina sat between my legs and we sailed
down the marble stairs amid squeals of excitement from that hellion of a
daughter we have."

"Good Lord!"
Alisa's eyes opened in alarm. "Sasha's too young!"

"Indeed, Madame, I
must agree," Nikki rejoined, eyes twinkling, "for after the third
ride, he promptly fell asleep in my arms and missed the next four trips."
His eyes softened. "You look very lovely this morning."

"Thank you, and thank
you for staying at my bedside for so many days. Rakeli informed me that you
were very solicitous," Alisa said teasingly, feeling giddy, tremulously
joyful.

"Well, I hope, Madame,
I know my duty," Nikki replied in mock dismay. And then he said seriously,
"I'd like to talk to you."

Alisa's heart sank. Now
that she was out of danger, perhaps he would no longer feel any concern for
her. She lay back against her pillows, prepared for the worst. "Yes,
Nikki," she said fearfully.

"As soon as you are
recovered sufficiently, I'll have you taken out into the country. I have a
great desire for my children to be reared away from the dirt and bustle of the
city."

So that's how he's going to
manage, Alisa thought bitterly. She remembered his promise to stay home every
night with her. He wouldn't have to break his promise this way. She'd be out of
the way and he could come and go as he pleased.

"I shan't do it! I
won't stay in the country!" Alisa replied defiantly. Already her mind was
racing to find alternatives. Prince Mikhail and Kaisa-leena would understand.
Perhaps divorce, freedom for both of them, was the only answer. But now she
felt too tired to care. Her defiance slowly died.

"Perhaps you could be
persuaded to stay if 1 were to accompany you. You see, quite unaccountably, I
have developed an overwhelming penchant for country air."

Alisa's tired glance lifted
swiftly, glimpsing Nikki's merry eyes and smile, and suddenly she felt
blissfully happy.

Nikki clasped both her
hands in his and, holding them in his sure, strong grip, said gently, as he
looked into her dark violet eyes, "And in addition, I'm unfashionably
besotted with the woman I married." Alisa put up her arms in an open,
childlike gesture of need. Nikki enfolded her in his arms.

"We will be happy, you
and I. I'll see to that."

"Yes," Alisa
murmured softly as Nikki bent to kiss her tempting lips, "you've always
been able to see to that."

As Nikki lifted his mouth
from hers, Alisa softly queried, "Nikki, could I ask something of
you?"

"Of course,
love," he whispered huskily, nibbling at her ear.

"Would you consider
giving up such mistresses as Sophie, who are constantly in company with us? I
never know what to say to them and feel so foolish and awkward." It was
half statement, half question.

He paused for a moment,
contemplating a lie, but he couldn't dissemble after all, and having lived a
life renowned for the uniqueness of his depravities, he didn't want to be
forced into a posture he could in no way carry off.

"I will forswear one
day at a time, I promise you that."

With a mischievous glance
Alisa murmured, "And I, my Prince, can go my own road too, then? It's the
sophisti' cated fashion. We will both discreetly look away on occasion."

Nikki threw back his head
and laughed.

"You damned
impertinent minx. You still don't know your place. Will you never learn
submission and duty? Remember, I know how to guard my own. My God, woman."
He grinned. "I suppose we shall bicker and scrap incessantly and be at
each other's throats from morning to night."

"I suppose so, my
Prince," Alisa replied, flashing a teasing look up through heavy lashes,
"but it
does
keep your melancholy at bay, and I do so enjoy the
making up."

An elegant chapel was
constructed at Mon Plaisir, and when Alisa questioned the enterprise, Nikki
sheepishly explained that he had promised to erect the church if God spared her
life during Sasha's birth.

"Good Lord, who will
use it except the servants?" she asked, incredulous, but a tiny glow of
pleasure was lit somewhere within her heart at the sentiment.

True. It wouldn't be used
often except by the servants. But occasionally, he knew, he would enter the
holy sanctuary alone, and alone give thanks that the woman he adored was still
with him—in marriage and in love.

The Prince did indeed fill
his nursery, not by force, as he had once threatened, but rather with the full
acquiescence of his affectionate wife, who assured him that all births were not
as difficult as Sasha's. A nursery wing was added by necessity after their
third child was bom, and Prince Kuzan was often known to remark that he quite
heartily approved of the concept of filial piety, and was doing his damnedest
to satisfy his father's desire for heirs.

Nikki also admired the old
Persian saying: Three things are most pleasing in the eyes of God: to conceive
a child, to plant a tree, and to write a book. Someday, he said, he would
consider moving on to subjects two and three.

Nikki appeared in town
infrequently, and on those sporadic occasions he was usually accompanied by his
family. During these visits he proudly displayed his beautiful and growing
children, and the pink marble palace resounded with their noise and activities.
His clubs would see him rarely, and to other women he was to all practical
purposes lost forever. They would repine and cast soft sighs after the tall,
handsome Prince, but he very happily ignored them and found his satisfaction
and contentment in the company of his beautiful wife and enchanting children.

As their firstborn son
Sasha grew to manhood, the boy showed a marked affinity to embrace the same
dissipated life once enjoyed by his father.

"Sometimes I think you
positively encourage Sasha's debauchery, condoning any hellish scheme he
concocts, overlooking the most blatant escapades," Alisa would
occasionally remark testily to the Prince.

"Now, dear, let the
boy have his head."

"Yes, that was always
your maxim, you lecher, and look what happens. You know," she said darkly,
"when I discov-ered the younger children's governess in bed with Sasha, he
was scarce fourteen."

"I know, dear,"
Nikki soothed placatingly, "but that didn't happen again. Sasha, no doubt,
took your motherly advice to heart."

After that indiscretion,
Nikki had taken his reckless son aside and warned him about too blatantly
offending his mama. "I'll spare you my advice which I conceive you will in
no part accept at this youthful stage, and only recommend, for the sake of my
domestic tranquility, my boy, that perhaps the summerhouse on the point by the
lake would be more discreet."

And so the boy went on, but
that's another story.