The Brigadier's Daughter (16 page)

His smiled broadened, for Sasha was not one to bandy about affectionate terms in public. He raised his glass to her. ‘I am glad. Is the food to your taste, dearest?'

Sasha simply smiled, and inclined her head slightly, as though she could really find no comment worthy enough. Irena launched into a conversation about the merits of cavalry and infantry, and she spoke quite knowledgeably and intelligently about military affairs, yet still Reid failed to warm to her and would not be drawn into any discussion that Sasha knew he quite enjoyed.

Dessert was served, a Charlotte Russe and quite delicious with its layers of mocha mousse, cake and cream. After the meal they retired to the sofa while coffee was served and Sasha could
not help but glance at the ticking hands of the blue porcelain French ormolu clock on the mantelpiece. How soon could they politely depart? she wondered. Just as she was beginning to feel quite annoyed with Reid, Irena suggested they leave Reid to enjoy his port in peace.

‘Come and see the garden, I am sure Major Bowen has had quite enough of our female chatter.' She placed her arm about Sasha's waist and hugged her as they left the room.

From the doorway Sasha glanced over her shoulder at Reid, with a frown and significant glare, but he only stared back wide-eyed and with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say, ‘What?'

Arm in arm they went downstairs, footmen waiting at the door with velvet cloaks to ward off any chill. They stepped out into the garden and the bright sunshine was very pleasant, shining on the marble terrace and stone tubs of glossy-leaved miniature magnolia trees, and below that the lawns neat and elaborate as they wandered along shingled paths. They came to a fountain, rippling into a quatrefoil marble basin, rose petals bobbing on the surface.

Sasha could not help but chew her lip as she pondered on her thoughts as they walked in silence. Irena was quick to pick up on her mood.

‘Have I bored you already,
ma chérie
?'

Sasha looked up, and smiled at Irena. ‘No, of course not, it's just that…' She hesitated, reluctant to voice her disappointment with Reid; it seemed, somehow, disloyal. ‘Well,' she murmured slowly, glancing shyly away, ‘I must apologise for Reid's boorish behaviour.'

‘Such men can be difficult, very proud and rigid about rules and etiquette.' Irena shrugged eloquently. ‘And they are not ones to express sweet words of love. It is more…physical…for them.' She glanced at Sasha and smiled as her blush deepened. Then she stopped and turned Sasha to face her, with both hands on her shoulders. ‘My dear, I can no longer keep it a secret, but I must tell you that I have had a letter from your mother.' She glanced
about, and up at the windows of the palace, but they were quite alone in the garden. ‘I know the truth…Sasha.'

At the mention of her name, Sasha's head reared up and suddenly her face flushed and crumpled as relief and alarm brought a rush of tears. Irena tutted, and patted her shoulders as she hugged her tightly. ‘Now, dry your tears, enough of that nonsense.' She held Sasha away from her, lifting her bowed head with her fingers under Sasha's chin, her dark eyes holding an expression quite unlike any Sasha had seen on her before. ‘We are the same, my dear, you and I. We are mistresses.'

Sasha gasped, suddenly realising the significance of her situation, and eager to make protest. She brushed the wetness from her eyes and cheeks. ‘Oh, no, I am not Reid's mistress!'

Irena laughed, in disbelief. ‘Well, you are not his wife. Do not be ashamed, my dear, sometimes it is far better to be a mistress than a wife. When you are bored with him and he no longer gives you pleasure and fine jewels, it is easy enough to move on to, shall we say, other delights.'

Sasha was shocked, and shrugged away from her cousin, and in the heat of an emotional moment she blurted out, ‘I am not his mistress—indeed, I am still a virgin!'

For a moment Irena was silent, and then her eyes narrowed for a moment in a way that Sasha found quite unnerving, but the look was gone in a second and she smiled, patting Sasha on the arm as she said gently, ‘Ah, I see. And now he is being noble and will not make love to you?'

‘I— I suppose so.'

‘And what will you do?'

‘I must leave.'

‘And pretend that nothing has happened? How very English!' Irena gave Sasha an assessing glance. ‘No, my dear, you must bed him, as soon as possible. Mark my words, a man like that, if you do not make love with him, some other woman will.' Her fingers stroked over the skin of Sasha's delicate collarbone, her
voice very soft and husky. ‘Perhaps I can be of help, I can teach you how to please a man, show you, show both of you—'

‘Whatever do you mean?' Sasha stared at her, moving away from her just a fraction and feeling most uncomfortable.

Irena smiled. ‘Silly child, you know nothing of men, of their desires. Why, what I mean is that every man has a secret fantasy to make love to two women at the same time.' Her laughter was throaty and blatant. ‘It is quite enjoyable.'

Sasha's shock turned to disgust, and she stepped quickly back, staring at Irena as if suddenly she did not know her at all. Was Reid right in his judgement of her? Was her mother's cousin more than just excitingly different and a little
risqué
, but perhaps immoral and wicked? Her first instinct was to pick up her skirts in both hands and run as fast as she could away from her, yet common sense and a keen instinct for survival reminded Sasha that Irena was party to knowledge of her circumstances that could bring disaster upon Reid. If the truth was made known about their relationship, he could be disgraced and dismissed from the Army. She could not afford to antagonise or alienate Irena, and so she said nothing, merely bowing her head and pretending her blush was one of embarrassment and not anger and disgust.

Seeing her shock, Irena made haste to apologise, equally aware of the risk of causing offence with one so closely connected to the British Embassy. ‘My dear, I am sorry. It was inappropriate of me to speak of such things with such an innocent.' Irena linked arms with her as they walked back to the house. ‘I am so glad we have had the chance to talk so frankly. At last the truth is out. It is so much better, do you not think?'

Sasha swallowed, with difficulty, but her voice was choked in her throat and she could do no more than nod.

‘Don't worry, my little one, we will find a way to make Major Bowen your slave!'

Inwardly Sasha shuddered, but she said nothing as across the lawn strode the subject of their discussion. He waved and called
out with a smile, reminding Sasha that he had an appointment with Sir Stanley and they must go if he was not to be late.

They kissed goodbye in the hall by the front door, Reid making polite thanks for the delightful luncheon as he bundled Sasha into her hat and gloves and coat.

‘Goodbye, my dear.' Irena kissed Sasha's cheek and whispered by her ear, ‘If you want to know anything, just ask me.'

Sasha nodded and smiled, yet her brow was creased in a frown as they walked back to the apartment. Reid's pace was brisk as he hustled her along, and it took her a few moments before she sifted through the chaotic thoughts in her mind and realised that no mention had been made of any meeting with Sir Stanley, and in fact she had thought they were going to the ballet.

‘Reid—' She was about to question him about his altered itinerary when suddenly he stopped on the street corner and grabbed her by both arms, demanding her full attention.

‘What was that all about?'

Sasha raised her face to him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I was watching you from the window. What did Irena say? You're as pale as a ghost and your eyelashes are all spiky. What did she say to make you cry?'

Sasha heard the anger in his voice, and for a moment she did not know what to say. It was far too shameful to tell him about Irena's lewd ideas.

‘Sasha! For God's sake, would you rather trust her than me? Tell me!'

She closed her eyes, sagging against him, as she sobbed a half-truth against his solid shoulder. ‘She knows, Reid, she knows about us.'

‘What! Sasha, how foolish to tell her—'

‘I didn't! My mother wrote making enquiries, and told her all about Georgia and Felix, and how I took her place. She obviously put two and two together.'

‘So she knows that you are not my wife?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then who does she think you are?'

‘Your—' Sasha's voice sank to a whisper ‘—mistress.'

‘I see. I hope that you did not go so far as to tell her we have never actually made love?'

‘Well, um, she knows that I am still a virgin.'

‘Oh, Sasha!' Reid growled, infuriated. ‘You are so incredibly naïve.'

‘What are we going to do?'

‘There's only one thing we can do. Get married, pretty damn quick!'

He took her arm and marched down the street. They had arrived at their front door, and he lowered his voice as he told her, ‘I will go over to see Reverend Jones this very moment, and ask him to perform a ceremony as soon as may be.'

He pulled the bell and the door opened within a few moments, and with a glance he warned her to keep quiet in front of the servants before turning away and going off in search of the Welsh minister. Sasha went indoors and spent an hour pacing the drawing-room floor, chewing her thumbnail and listening with every fibre of her being for the sound of the front door and Reid's return. At five o'clock Jane brought the tea tray and set it down, tentatively asking if she should run a bath and get Sasha's gown ready for the ballet.

Quite distracted by her thoughts, Sasha nodded, and wondered where on earth Reid could be. What was taking so long? She tried to steady her anxiety by sitting down and pouring a cup of tea. But it was not enough, and she found herself dwelling on Reid's words, his eagerness for the minister to ‘perform a ceremony'. She felt a sense of disappointment that he had not said that he wanted to marry her, that their wedding would be because he loved her, but it seemed only to be out of duty, to save them from scandal and, no doubt, she thought with a vague and unusual sense of scepticism, to save his career from
ruin. And then there was Irena, revealing a side to her character that Sasha had never suspected, and could not like. She sighed, realising that Reid was right and that from now on she would have to break all contact with Irena.

 

At last she heard the footman go to open the front door, and Reid's light, energetic step as he bounded up the stairs. She rose from her seat as the drawing-room door opened and he came into the room. Their eyes met, and she could tell at once from the grim set of his face that it was not good news. She sat down again and poured him a cup of tea, stirred in milk and two sugars and brought it to him as he stood before the hearth staring into the fire flames. He took the cup from her with a grateful smile, and Sasha asked, ‘Did you find him?'

Reid nodded, and then shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of defeat, shaking his head at the same time. ‘I am sorry to say that the Reverend Jones has made it rather difficult. He is not refusing to marry us, but rather insisting that the correct procedure be followed and the banns are read for three Sundays, and then we can be married, with all our friends and family in attendance.'

‘Oh.'

‘Indeed.'

‘That would be rather…impossible.'

‘Quite.'

‘Do you think he will say anything? You know, make it known we are not actually married?'

He looked at her, his eyes scanning her anxious face. ‘I hope not.'

Sasha turned away, pacing about for a few steps before turning to him anxiously. ‘Oh, Reid, what are we to do?'

He shook his head. ‘I don't know.'

‘We can't just sit here and pretend that all is well. Too many people know already, the Reverend, and I-Irena— How can we be sure that either of them can be trusted to keep our secret?'

‘Well, we can't.' He raked his hands through his hair and
then turned to her as an idea dawned on him. ‘We will have to go back to England. We will have to do a Georgia and Felix.'

‘Whatever do you mean?'

‘Go to Gretna Green and get married, quietly and quickly.' As the idea took hold Reid began to make his plans. ‘We will put it about my uncle in London is very ill, and as his only surviving relative, I have to be at his bedside.'

‘Would it not be better if it was someone from my family? My mother.'

‘No,' Reid replied quite emphatically, not at all keen to get the Brigadier involved in anything. ‘Let me deal with this, Sasha; after all, it is my fault.'

‘No, it's not, it is my fault; I brought this all upon you, Georgia and I.'

‘To begin with, but it is I who have kept you here with me, sharing my life, and my bed, like a wife.'

‘Reid—' she laid a hand on his arm, looking up into his strained face ‘—we can put an end to this. I will go, I will leave and we can pretend to get an annulment—after all, our so-called marriage has never been consummated. I could go to a physician to prove I am still a virgin.'

He gazed down upon her, and thoughtfully explored that possibility, but found it not to be to his taste. He shook his head. ‘I could not put you through such an ordeal, Sasha. We will simply get married and that will solve everything. Captain Turnbull is returning next week and has been invited to accompany us to the Grand Ball at the Winter Palace. I will make the arrangements with him to convey us back to England.'

‘Perhaps we could marry aboard ship if there is a chaplain onboard?'

He gave her an exasperated grin. ‘I did suggest that once before, but you refused.'

Sasha had the grace to look contrite. ‘Well, I did not think it a good idea at the time—after all, you were not particularly keen on—on—'