Seized by Love (4 page)

"Of course,"
Nikki replied affably. A small flutter of anticipation coursed through him, and
a glint of amusement lit up his eyes as thoughts of the chase ran through his
mind. Anything—any brief bagatelle to release him from this glazed lassitude.
Yes, a seduction would be more interesting than hunting four-legged game. And
in the case of a woman, the chase wasn't everything; one was always assured of
additional delights upon completion of the hunt.

One can excuse Nikki,
perhaps, for his lack of scruples, his indifference to others' feelings, his
selfishness, when one considers that in the society in which he lived, his
opportunities for observing noble thoughts and deeds were scarce in comparison
with his opportunities for observing the utterly selfish ruthlessness with
which pleasure was pursued.

"You're sure it
matters not who my choice is?" Illyich inquired. He thought for a few
moments, then a faint smile warmed his cheerful countenance as his eyes strayed
across the river, over a picturesque but small meadow to a figure of a woman
sitting near a grove of birch trees engrossed in her sketchbook and
watercolors.

"It makes absolutely
no difference," Nikki replied arrogantly. Then he hesitated, rising up on
one shoulder. "You wouldn't be thinking of some old dowager, would you? I
categorically draw the line at age fifty," he said suspiciously,
scrutinizing Illyich.

"No, no," Illyich
assured him. "Have no fear, she's suitably ripe."

Nikki sighed, his momentary
pang of dismay dispelled.

"Ripe, you say. I look
forward to the game," he said as he stretched supine once more on the
green grass, conscious for the first time in weeks of a tangible excitement in
his loins. With Illyich's money riding on the wager, it wasn't going to be
child's play. Illyich bet to win, but Nikki was equally confident of success.
He believed in his ability to overcome any woman's reservations, and Illyich's
choice of a difficult, wary victim would make the predator's reward that much
sweeter.

"Feel free to begin
anytime," Illyich remarked as he smirked at Cernov and indicated the
object of the wager with a nod of his head in the direction of the river.

Nikki's reverie was
interrupted by these words. What did Illyich mean? Surely there was no one in
these secluded acres except Gypsy or peasant girls, and neither of those would
present him more than a second's hesitation before rolling in the hay. Was
Illyich drunk this early in the afternoon?

As he slowly rose from his
position of comfort under a flowering wild plum bush, Nikki stretched his long
arms and flexed the muscles of his powerful shoulders to shake off some of the
torpor of the lazy afternoon. His muscles rippled under the fine linen of his
embroidered peasant shirt as he lifted both hands to run his fingers through
his long black hair. He wore no beard, as per regulations for the Imperial
Guard requiring a clean chin, nor chose to cultivate a mustache; his only
concession to the hirsute fashionableness of the day was the growth of
sideburns that extended several inches down his jawline.

Nikki strolled leisurely
over to where Illyich and Cernov still rolled their dice. "Surely you
jest. There can't be a likely female within ten miles of this spot," he
said with mild incredulity.

"Beg to differ with
you, my fine stud, but do direct your bloodshot eyes across the river and over
yon grassy meadow. I believe you will take notice of a blaze of coppery hair
with a delectable young body underneath the glorious coif." Illyich couldn't
control his mirth any longer, and sputtered and guffawed rollickingly as he
looked up into Nikki's horrified face.

"Good God! You can't
mean the old merchant's wife. Come now, Illyich, that's even too bad for you. I
recognize your necessity to make the assignment formidable, and I didn't
anticipate an easy or willing quarry, but let's keep this somewhat within the
bounds of propriety."

"Sweet Jesus. You and
propriety don't even have a nodding acquaintance," Illyich retorted, still
chuckling, immensely pleased with his choice.

"Look," Nikki
pleaded in an effort to persuade Illyich of the folly of that particular woman,
"why not choose a married Petersburg 'lady' who has already produced the
necessary heir but has not hitherto strayed from the path of virtue or perhaps,
an untried peasant or Gypsy girl who also values her innocence, even some
bourgeois wife conscious of the earnestness of marital duty. Any of these would
be difficult enough, but, my God, Valdemar Forseus's wife! She's totally
outside the pale, rarely out of his sight, as closely guarded as a harem houri.
And in addition, from the few times I've caught a glimpse of her in the Vüpuri
market square at her husband's side, she looks as cold as an ice maiden.

"Excluding those
'slight' problems"—Nikki's eyebrows emphasized the euphemism—"my
father would horsewhip me or have one of his apoplexies if he caught wind of
such an escapade. Forseus's land marches with ours along the entire river, and
Father insists on friendly relations with the locals, so he's forever lecturing
me that one must govern with mildness and justice. He's absolutely adamant
about not misusing one's power and influence in autocratic actions. Why do you
think I always import my females? It's safer than wenching all around the countryside
and leaving by-blows so close to home. Father says the winds of change are
bringing a new era, in which noble, bourgeois, and peasant will dwell together
in a vast social mutation of some kind. You know he is perpetually concerned
with the productivity of his estates, the conditions of his peasants,
maintaining the dignity of the workingclass, and establishing a rapport with
the hoi polloi. God, the whole idea is unmentionable!

"Besides, have you
ever met Forseus? He's not entirely rational, I suspect; his eyes burn with a
fever that's unnatural. I shall, with your gracious consent, beg off this
particular female if you don't mind, Illyich."

"Nikki, I don't mind
one whit.
Au contraire,
an easy profit, I say. That's fifty thousand
sweet roubles, and I frankly admit, I don't mind taking it from you, Nikki
dear, since you can so readily afford it."

"Damn!" Nikki
exploded sullenly. "I didn't renege on the wager. I just think you should
choose another woman."

"Sorry, Nikki, you
said it was my choice, and there is my choice," Illyich said, and pointed
theatrically toward the small figure on the opposite bank, completely oblivious
of the attention she was attracting, unaware that her virtue was a subject of
interest and debate among complete strangers.

When Nikki recognized that
argument was pointless, with his characteristic charm he graciously conceded
Illy-ich's point.

"Daresay, I might as
well be off to commence the chase. There's no time like the present, et cetera,
et cetera." He smiled, already half amused and anticipating the
flirtation. For Nikki, obstacles existed only to be swept aside. He brushed
away impediments that would bring lesser men to their knees and more sensible
and prudent men to a cautious standstill.

"Nikki,
reconsider," his young cousin Aleksei interjected uneasily, "it's not
right. Your father, depend on it, would find it totally unacceptable. Suppose
he does catch wind of it."

"With any luck, Father
won't find out," Nikki responded calmly to his cousin's objections.
"The lady scarcely would be inclined to bandy the news about, and we all
are capable of holding our tongues."

Once Nikki's mind was made
up, he could be unusually obstinate to change and, after all, he did have fifty
thousand roubles riding on the outcome. Even though he didn't personally need
the money, it would indulge his pet project of embellishing his cavalry troop.
The magnificence of his troop outshone all others, and outfitting the men and
horses in such extravagant adornments gave him a great deal of pride, but the
personal expense was astronomical. He contemplated the new tack that could be
purchased with the fifty thousand roubles. Some dark blue leather bridles
ornamented with silver had caught his eye just a week or so ago at Neimeyers.
Besides, after a few moments Nikki had convinced himself that the confrontation
wasn't so insuperable as first imagined. His growing excitement over the unique
and piquant diversion was enough to allay any slight misgivings he might still
harbor.

Once a decision was made,
Nikki faced all prospects undaunted. He looked on the world as available for
his pleasure alone, and therefore his inclinations, however extraordinary, must
be satisfied.

Nikki stood gazing across
the small river with a cold, calculating look. Half musing, half aloud, he
quietly murmured, "Now, this calls for a nice judgment, this art of
seduction. You must be plain but not too plain, be adept at murmuring fulsomely
expressed endearments with a delicate sincerity, and you must smile politely as
you pretend to take what is, in fact, willingly given. It goes without saying
that one cannot be overhampered by scruples."

"That may all be very
fine in the society in which you move, Nikki," Cernov retorted,
"where everyone knows the rules of amorous jousting and seldom departs
from the proscribed formula, but in the case of Forseus's wife, I think you'll
be dealing with a female unfamiliar with those 'niceties.' "

"I am credibly
informed," Illyich stated with cheerful maliciousness, "that she's
untainted by scandal."

"So
far,
she's been untainted by scandal," Nikki remarked humorlessly, and with a
careless gesture of farewell walked toward the river.

Thus these elegant, bored,
restless young blades became involved in this peccadillo to breathe some
freshness and vitality into their boredom. The nascent industrial energy of the
age had doubled their already princely revenues without efforts of their own.
They were, in the words of a contemporary chronicler, "dulled by luxury,
enervated by ease, staled by amusement."

As for the object of this
chase, the pursued, the diversion to the restless young birds of paradise,
Alisa, the young wife of the old merchant Forseus, was an innocent. She wasn't
an innocent to deliberate cruelty or coldness of a man (no one who had lived
with Valdemar Forseus for six years was unacquainted with evil), but unschooled
and innocent in receiving kindly overtures from a man playing the game of
seduction. An education from books, however exceptional, lacks the necessary
information that real-life experience teaches. In the gilded circles of
Petersburg society, amatory dalliance and flirtation had attained the status
and perfection of a fine art, and over the years Nikki had refined and polished
his practical and aesthetic skill to a virtuoso proficiency.

So here we have the age-old
confrontation.

The unsophisticated and
untutored young girl encountering the master technician with an artist's touch.

Nikki's career in dalliance
had, in fact, begun in earnest when he was barely seventeen, and that first episode
had disastrously left its mark.

One afternoon, sixteen long
years ago, while squiring
Maman
to one of her numerous visits in the
manner of a dutiful son, he'd caught the practiced eye of one of his mother's
friends; in fact, had almost heard the audible click in Countess Plentikov's
beautiful head when she had, for the first time, seriously noticed that the
moody, sulky, darkly romantic boy had turned into a man.

Even at seventeen and not
grown to his full height, Nikki was formidable, inches over six feet, lean,
with raw-boned, powerful shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and slim hips.
The sulky coltishness, restless under the conflicting urges of his adolescence,
had suddenly intrigued the Countess. With the eye of a confirmed connoisseur of
male flesh, Soronina's glance had appraised the splendid young body as if he
were standing at stud.

Countess Soronina had known
Nikki from the cradle, and at thirty-six she had two marriageable daughters of
her own. She was, however, still an exquisitely beautiful woman, slim, petite,
golden-haired; her figure was carefully maintained, the soft, pale complexion
still perfect, although its beauty took increasing time to care for.

Like most patricians of
their class, the Count and Countess Plentikov had many years before acquired
the habit of being unfaithful to each other, but out of tacit agreement and
courtesy had overlooked each other's numerous infidelities. Count Plentikov
spent more time in the country or on the Continent than he did in Petersburg,
and this arrangement was mutually satisfying. Soronina's silver and white
boudoir had been the scene of many tumultuous encounters as a succession of men
had paid amorous homage to one of the reigning beauties of the day.

Nikki absently listened to
the ridiculous flow of trivial remarks and pleasantries that fell from
Soronina's full red lips that first warm summer afternoon. He gave the
obligatory answers in a desultory fashion, but he preferred to let his eyes
play over her bounteous curves while visualizing that soft body under his.

Nikki at seventeen was by
no means the consummate lover, but not altogether unskilled either, and
Soronina was definitely offering him more than sherry and made-leines as they
sat in one corner of the huge drawing room, conversing. His mother would
occasionally glance toward them during the course of the visit, knowing full
well what Soronina was up to, but resigning herself to the inevitable. For half
a lifetime Soronina had been aware of the seductive power of her beauty and had
never failed to exert its influence successfully. In this case Nikki was more
than willing to be agreeable.