Seized by Love (7 page)

That evening Nikki remained
aloof from the ordinary orgy of drinking, dancing, and whoring. With barely
tolerant amusement and ultimately total indifference he watched the drunken
antics of his friends. Finally, to the astonishment of the servants, for the
first time in years he retired alone to bed at the relatively early hour of one
o'clock. He was even sober. Now they were worried. Was the master ill?

For all his drunken
wildness and eccentric behavior, Nikki had an old-fashioned regard for his
responsibilities to his peasants and was, in turn, adored by them. He was
generous to his servants, a quirk denoted by most as softness or eccentricity.
He was genuinely interested in their problems, laughed and joked with them,
would partake in their amusements, had learned to ride, hunt, and ski from his
father's Finnish Lukashee (trackers).
²
In fact, Nikki's ardor for
hunting interfered considerably with his regimental duties, but his superiors
favored him and intervened more than once to save him the consequences of
overstaying his leave or being absent without consent.

Nikki, oblivious to the
servants' whispered solicitude for his health, slept deeply and peacefully
throughout the night.

Alisa, for her part, was
not so imperturbable. She tossed and turned, in long stretches of wakefulness
restlessly wondering if she should meet Prince Kuzan the next day. Still
distraught with indecision, she finally fell into an exhausted sleep at four in
the morning.

Nikki had dispatched a
trooper to Petersburg 100 versts away (66 miles) the evening before, with a
message for Ivan, instructing him to gather all the current art catalogues from
the library and send them back by return messenger. Ivan was also to ascertain
the provenance of the landscape by Shishkin and have that delivered as well to
the hunting lodge.

By mid-morning of the
second day of the wager, the catalogues were in Nikki's hands and a note from
Ivan explained that the painting was being sent by carriage since its size made
it impossible to be carried on horseback. Nikki selected four of the newest
catalogues he felt would be of most interest to Mrs. Forseus.

Dressing leisurely, he left
without waking his friends, who were still sleeping off their fuddled heads,
although the day was well advanced beyond noon. He wore the buckskins and
peasant shirt he preferred as country dress. Books tucked under his arm, Nikki
strolled without haste to the small meadow on the opposite side of the shallow
river. There he lay down in the warm sun, arms hooked behind his neck, and
waited for Alisa. He'd deliberately arrived very early in order to precede the
woman to the assignation. Alisa's quavering trepidation had been extremely
evident yesterday, and Nikki was afraid she might quickly reconsider and bolt
if he wasn't there first to greet her.

Nikki entertained himself,
as he waited, by mentally cataloguing the various and delightful attributes of
the beautiful Mrs. Forseus. This pleasant exercise was eventually disturbed by
the arrival of the subject of his musings.

The hunt was on once more.
The luscious quarry was full in sight. She was even more delicious in the
flesh, he noted, as Alisa walked toward him with a long, graceful stride, her
slender hips swaying beneath the sheer dimity of her apple-green dress. Nikki
closed his eyes briefly and controlled his rising passion. To have that fair
creation of womanhood alone in the forest and refrain from making love to her
was going to require superhuman discipline.

"Good afternoon, Mrs.
Forseus." Nikki greeted her courteously, rising politely from the ground
and sweeping her a formal bow. He could see her hesitancy and uncertainty, and
hoped by remaining coolly formal to allay any misgivings she might have about
having come here to meet him. One more day and they would be experiencing the
ultimate familiarity, he thought, so he was willing to bide his time today. He
didn't want her to flee in panic, sorry that she'd come. That wasn't out of the
question, he realized as she stood trembling before him, holding tightly to her
basket of art supplies. Her demeanor reminded him of a very young girl, an
unsure adolescent on the threshold of first love.

"Good afternoon,
Prince Kuzan," Alisa softly replied in greeting.

"Come, Mrs. Forseus,
please call me Nikolai, and may I address you by your Christian name? All this
rigid etiquette seems out of place in the natural arena. I brought the
cata-logues," he quickly added when he noted the alarm with which she
viewed him.

The lure of her favorite topic
was enough to overcome her apprehensions, and the lovely young woman visibly
relaxed as Nikki held the booklets out to her.

"My name is
Alisa," she said demurely without lifting her eyes to Nikki's face. She
held out her hand for the books, touching them as if they were a precious
metal. Then she gracefully seated herself on the ground a safe, respectable
distance away.

Nikki didn't make any
sudden moves because Alisa exhibited the unmistakable nervousness of a
frightened doe. Soon, however, her natural vivacity surfaced as she oohed and
aahed over the colored lithographs in the catalogues. Nikki contentedly watched
her and ventured a comment or two on some of the artists or explained
occasionally just how a certain painting appeared in its large format. He
talked to her of his meetings with Kramskoy, Repin, Shishkin, and Savrassov,
and Alisa's interest was itself intoxicating; her eyes shone in wonder, her
cheeks flushed with fervor. After hearing Nikki had actually been in their
company, she was full of eager questions and didn't notice or appear unduly
alarmed when he moved closer to point out some special quality or detail in one
or two of the catalogue plates.

The afternoon passed thus
pleasantly in this discourse on art; she animated, high-spirited, inquiring, he
politely courteous and ever restrained while answering her myriad questions.

Apparently by accident,
since the maneuver was performed with such discretion, Nikki would occasionally
touch Alisa's hand while pointing out a particular object of interest in an
illustration, or brush her arm as he leaned across to turn a page; these
stratagems were carried off with an unqualified innocence for all their
contrived planning.

Alisa vividly responded to
Nikki's casual touch; a rosy blush, a start, down-cast eyes. He was pleased to
see that she was aware of his presence, and it wasn't coquetry, he decided; she
was indeed virtuous. But hers was a virtue that was assailable, it appeared
from her agitated reaction to the unexpected contact. If Alisa was susceptible
to slight brushes of his fingers, it presaged well for her response to his more
ardent and practiced caresses. This was no ice maiden after all.

Alisa herself was
overwhelmed by her strange feelings. She'd lain awake the greater part of the
night and hadn't been able to stay away today, although she'd consciously made
the attempt. These tremulous sensations within her were new and unfamiliar. The
warm flush running through her body was terrifying in its pleasure, a driving
physical longing astonishing in its intensity. Surely she must leave. This
would never do! She
must
leave! But she couldn't.

It was Nikki who decided he
would either have to leave now or he'd be recklessly and perhaps disastrously
seducing a still-uncertain (bewildered, wavering, but still uncertain) woman.
With a tremendous effort of will, Nikki suggested that Alisa should be
departing for home since the air was beginning to cool as the sun dropped
toward the horizon.

"Yes, of course."
Alisa jumped up breathlessly, eagerly grasping the opportunity to escape from
an encounter that left her filled with flurries and pulsations, while at the
same time, and quite improperly, she chided herself, curiously reluctant to
leave. "You're kind to notice. Thank you so much for showing me your catalogues.
I haven't had such an interesting conversation in years," she said, and
dazzled him with an ingenuous smile.

Nikki rose, and standing
quite close to her, was warmed by the unpretentious sincerity of that smile.

"If I might suggest,
Alisa," he said, skillfully choosing his words, not wishing to disturb the
delicate balance of her desires against the obvious perils she envisioned,
"if you'd care to stroll in this direction tomorrow afternoon, I could
have one of my servants carry over the Shishkin landscape for you to see, since
you feel you cannot take tea at my lodge."

Alisa hesitated only
briefly. She eagerly wanted to see the painting, and she also wanted to see
Prince Kuzan, and he did say his servant would be present. Nikki's reference to
the servant gave Alisa, already susceptible, the needed sop of respectability
to arrest her qualms.

"I'd like that
immensely. Until tomorrow." Alisa waved gaily and ran off through the
delicate birches.

Thank heaven, her husband
was in Helsinki on business, Alisa gratefully thought. He normally kept a very
careful watch on her activities, but his son, who was supposed to take over the
vigil in his father's absence, was rather less concerned than the jealous Mr.
Forseus. And Alisa was given considerably more freedom
within
the
estate. The acres were so extensive and isolated that Valdemar Forseus felt his
prize possession relatively safe from strange eyes.

The following morning
dawned overcast and drizzly.

Alisa was strangely upset
upon awakening to find her maid pulling back the heavy curtains on a gray,
cloudy day. She wanted to see Prince Kuzan again, but she didn't know why, and
the weather might not permit her to go out. She sat by her window most of the
morning, reading to her daughter and trying not to think of his disquieting
effect on her.

Nikki, too, woke to strong
feelings.
"Merde,"
he swore. A seduction in the rain would
be troublesome even if she did come out in spite of the wetness. And this was
his third and last day to win the wager.

Why was he so eager to make
love to Mrs. Forseus? Nikki pondered. He who'd just recently decried the
monotony of women. It wasn't the money from the wager; he hardly needed it, and
to win or lose the bet didn't signify; on the rare occasions when Nikki lost,
he lost as graciously as he won. But he was feeling some strange and remarkable
attraction to the chit, an attraction removed from his usual lust. Alisa was
virtuous, he reflected; a previously unassailable virtue about to be conquered.
That was what was giving him such delicious pleasure.

At noon the sun came out in
blazing glory.

Nikki called for his
valet
de chambre,
Yukko, and had him fetch the painting. The luncheon basket he
had ordered was sent for, and the two men set off toward the rendezvous. Yukko,
a friend as well as a servant, having been Nikki's companion since childhood,
was better company than nine-tenths of his betters. And the best knife-thrower
he'd ever seen. Nikki good-naturedly accepted the teasing directed toward him.

"Don't worry, Yukko.
I'll be careful. Just do as I ask. After Mrs. Forseus has had an opportunity to
satisfactorily inspect the painting, I'll give you a discreet nod and you take
the painting back to the lodge and leave us alone. Urho informed me yesterday
when he was saddling my horse that the old merchant is in Helsinki and isn't
expected back for two weeks; Urho's sister is a parlor maid at Forseus's. So
you see, I anticipate no angry husbands," Nikki said as he grinned into
Yukko's widely smiling face.

"In that case, I won't
have to stand guard with my pukko to stave off intruders."

"No, Yukko, no need
this time. Just go back to the lodge when I nod and try a bottle of my new
brandy. Ask Aleksei to find you one; he knows where it is."

Intentionally arriving
early once again, Nikki watched as Yukko propped the large canvas against some
birch trees, then both men sprawled in the grass, waiting for Mrs. Forseus.

She appeared shortly,
slightly breathless, having run the last quarter verst, fearing she might be
too late. In an effort to dissuade herself from meeting Nikolai, she'd
postponed her departure until long after Katelina was asleep, and then
impetuously decided to go regardless of her fears.

Yukko's presence was
reassuring, and the three sat on the grass, admiring the delicate depiction of
a birch grove, like the one surrounding them. Shishkin's skill at capturing the
atmosphere of early morning, his rendering of lacy ferns, the dawn stillness so
powerfully evoked on the canvas, were very impressive. Alisa exclaimed in
delight, Nikki was courteously agreeable, and Yukko, after a summary glance at
the landscape, ignored the painting and chose instead to observe the
protagonists in this elaborate courtship dance.

After a reasonable
interval, Yukko discreetly rose and left with the painting. Immediately
stepping into the breach with the military precision of a trained field officer
(to hesitate is to be lost), Nikki smiled warmly and said, "Could I
interest you in some of my chef's concoctions for a
dejeuner sur
I'herbe?"
handing Alisa the hamper as he lifted the lid. Any woman
would be awed by the sumptuous display arranged in the large basket.

Nikki spread out a damask
cloth, crystal, silver, and china while Alisa enthusiastically marveled over
the exquisite cold collation; a spiced Cornish hen stuffed with truffles and
herbs, pickled artichoke hearts, asparagus vinaigrette, smoked salmon and
caviar twirled into delicate pink lily shapes, pate fluted into a petal-shaped
mold, fresh strawberries sprinkled with sugar in a scalloped silver bowl, and
pale, golden madeleines artfully arranged in a silver latticework basket. While
Alisa set the food before them, Nikki poured champagne into two fine-stemmed
goblets.