Vienna Waltz (The Imperial Season Book 1) (9 page)

She glanced at him with more than a hint of self-mockery. “Was I so obviously hiding?”

“Only to me. Brazening it out is usually best. Although here in the main ballroom, there are other options, such as pillars. And alcoves,” he added, drawing back the curtain on one. It was empty and before she’d properly registered the fact, she found herself inside it. “Gather your breath,” Vanya advised.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re being very kind to me.”

“No, I’m not. I have an ulterior motive.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Helping you gather your breath.”

Lizzie said, “You know she’s my aunt, don’t you?”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know the story of Cinderella?” he inquired.

Baffled by the change of subject, she blinked. “Pardon?”

A smile flickered across his lips. “Everyone loves Cinderella. I’m just making conversation until you recover your breath.”

“How poor a specimen do you take me for? I’m quite recovered from so minor a disaster.”

“Of course you are,” he said, placing one finger under her chin and turning up her face, presumably to check for signs of the vapors.

She began to laugh, to reassure him that she never, ever had hysterics, only for some reason the words stuck in her throat, and it seemed she had no breath after all. Vanya’s masked face dipped lower and his dark eyes, the texture of his lips seemed to enthral her. Certainly, she couldn’t seem to speak or draw back.

At the last moment, she threw up one hand to ward him off, but it was too late. His lips closed on hers and, in shock, her defensive fingers curled instead on the braid of his uniform.

It wasn’t a long or aggressive embrace. Perhaps it was his gentleness that confused her, because when he raised his head, she neither slapped him nor ran. Incurably honest, she admitted to herself that it had been a nice kiss and that she rather wanted another. Torn, she swallowed convulsively and his head lowered once more.

This one was longer, sweeter, exploring her mouth, and when it ended, she touched his mask, the skin of his cheek, just because she wanted to, and lifted her face to be kissed again. A delicious sort of heaviness spread from her tingling lips through her whole body. Excitement, delight…and danger.

“That’s enough,” she whispered against his lips.

“No,” he said, releasing her. She thought his voice wasn’t quite steady, but that may have been the pounding of her heart distorting her hearing. “But it will do for now.” His lips curved. “You see? Now we’ll always know each other. When we meet again.”

A choke of laughter broke from her. “We won’t, you know. Goodbye, Colonel.”

As she reached up to pull back the curtain, forcing herself to think of Johnnie and the necklace, she suddenly froze.

“She wasn’t wearing it,” she blurted. “Oh God!”

She hadn’t stopped Johnnie in time. He hadn’t needed her to point out his victim. And now, she’d no idea where either the thief or the necklace was. She fled.

L
aughter shook Vanya’s
body as Lizzie rushed away from him. But though he’d enjoyed himself so much, he didn’t actually want her to suffer. After a discreet moment, he strolled out into the ballroom and turned his steps back toward the riding school. Since Boris was on the “nanny” shift with the tsar, he was easy enough to locate.

“Swap dominoes with me,” he said without introduction.

“What? Why? Who are you hiding from?” Boris demanded, though he obligingly took off his cloak. “Countess Gelitzina and Madame Fischer were both glaring daggers at you on the dance floor.”

“What the devil for?” Vanya asked, throwing his cloak to Boris and swinging his friend’s around his shoulder before striding off without waiting for an answer.

On his way out of the riding school, he stopped a passing waiter. From his pocket, he took a pre-scribbled note and a handful of coins and discreetly passed them across the tray. “For Mademoiselle Noire, the mysterious young lady in black,” he said. “You know who I mean?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Hurry, then.”

As he found his way outside into the grounds, he threw his mask away and unfastened his regimental coat. Shrugging it off, he left it under a bush for either himself or Misha to find later. Then, with Boris’ domino covering his shirt sleeves, he moved around toward the front of the palace to wait for Lizzie. Ruefully, he acknowledged that he’d just endangered his own plan. By dancing with her, by forcing her to notice him, especially in such a way, he’d left himself open to recognition.

It probably wouldn’t matter, of course. The disreputable Colonel Vanya could sell the necklace as easily as Johnnie could and it had been rather fun flirting with her on a more equal social footing. In truth, he rather wanted to remain Colonel Vanya to her, so that he could openly protect her, and perhaps put his arm around her in the hired carriage and kiss her a little more. Her kisses were sweet: a little shy, a little curious, with a latent passion he would be a complete cad to awaken fully. She was off limits and still he’d crossed the boundary. Or at least pushed it back a little.

Johnnie would undoubtedly be best at this point, but he didn’t hold out a great deal of hope that he’d fool her just by wearing a different colored cloak. Even though she hadn’t recognized Johnnie in the masked and military Vanya, he was now, surely, rather more firmly established at the forefront of her mind.

People were still milling about in the grounds—more illegal entrants to the ball, he presumed—as well as around the main entrance trying to bribe the doorman. It was easy to blend into the shadows. It reminded him of the rather deadlier games of hide and seek in the winter of 1812, when he’d led ambushes and sudden night attacks on the retreating French army.

He drove the memories away, thinking himself into the slightly furtive role of Johnnie the thief. And yet, his whole mind seemed to be full of
her
, vivid and fun and totally unaware of her charm.

She hurried out of the palace, drawing the hood of her cloak up over her head. She’d acquired a small carpet bag from somewhere; it hung from the edges of her cloak.

He stepped out of the shadows, ridiculously tense as he waited for recognition to hit her.

But she barely glanced at him as she hurried on. “Oh Johnnie, why didn’t you wait for me to point her out? I’d decided I didn’t want you to do it that way, but to rob the house, instead.”

“It’s done now.” As Vanya, he’d unconsciously let the Russian intonations more into his speech with her and, in fact, mostly they’d spoken in French, the generally accepted common language of the Congress. “I couldn’t come anywhere near you. Everyone was looking at you.”

“Oh dear,” she said worriedly. “I’d hoped that was nonsense… None of this has gone according to plan, has it?”

“Well, there’s the necklace,” he said, jangling the coins in his pocket as they walked across the square.

It didn’t seem to comfort her, although she did glance up at him through the gloom with her eyes so big with worry that it was all he could do not to kiss her there and then. “What did you do? Did you scare her? Why was there no hue and cry after you? She didn’t
look
frightened…”

“Stop worrying,” he said, leading her to a waiting fiacre for hire. “It was all quite civilized.”

Lizzie stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. “She doesn’t know it’s gone,” she said in wonder. “You flim-flammed her!”

He grinned. “Unladylike.”

“But she
will
know it’s stolen?” Lizzie said anxiously. “Once she notices, I mean. She won’t just think it’s lost and blame herself?”

“She won’t think it’s lost,” he assured her, handing her into the fiacre before he turned and spoke quietly to the driver.

“Where are we going?” Lizzie demanded as soon as he joined her and the horses began to pull. “Do you have a buyer ready?”

“At an inn just outside the city.”

Lizzie frowned. “Really? I imagined some mean back street with thieves in every corner.”

“You sound disappointed.”

In the pale light shining in from the coach lamps, she regarded him with some suspicion. Her fingers tightened convulsively on the bag in her lap. “You wouldn’t…let me down, would you, Johnnie?”

Vanya sat back and stuck his hands in his pockets, meeting her gaze through the shadows. “What do you think?”

She shivered slightly, hiding her moment of fear in a glare. He had to admire her courage. There weren’t many young ladies of her upbringing who could put themselves in such a situation, let alone deal with it as she was.

She took a deep breath. “If you take advantage of me, I’ll kill you.”

Vanya blinked. “
Kill
me? How are you going to do that?”

“Pray you never find out,” she said loftily. “Stick to our agreement.”

“I always meant to. If you insist on mean back streets, we’ll go there and hope for a decent-ish price, but my buyer will be at the inn and he’ll give us twice what any back-street fence would.”

Lizzie searched his face and he held his breath, glad of the poor light but still waiting to be recognized.

“You trusted me when I was drunk,” he observed, when she didn’t speak. “I’m a better man sober.”

Her eyes fell. “I’m sorry. I suppose I just don’t feel very good about this whole plan now we’re actually doing it. I feel dishonest and…dirty.”

“Don’t,” he said, leaning forward and touching her tense hands. “Who are you hurting? Not Ivan the Terrible and not your aunt. The necklace can make no real difference to your cousin’s chances of a good marriage. And I’m sure your father would have been happy to know you and your siblings will be comfortable.”

“Maybe,” she said doubtfully. “He wasn’t a terribly responsible parent.”

“He looked after Michael,” Vanya pointed out. “That is definitely in his favor.”

“Yes, but in truth, although he didn’t
object
to having Michael with us, it was my mother who insisted on it when Michael’s mother died shortly after his birth. There was a bit of a scandal, I believe, but it didn’t touch us much in the country.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No, she died some years ago.” Although she spoke matter-of-factly, a shadow of grief crossed her face. She squared her shoulders. “I think, after this, you should give up thieving.”

“But I’ve only just begun to enjoy it,” Vanya protested.

She gave a little choke of laughter, swiftly swallowed. “You won’t enjoy it when you’re caught,” she said severely. “Why don’t you use the money from this to begin some other trade? Do you have a family?”

“I have a mother and several sisters.”

“Maybe you should go home.”

“I will. Eventually. I’ve a few things I need to do first.”

“Not more thievery?” she asked with an anxiety that seemed genuine.

He shrugged. “Just a little duty, a little sorting out and a little kicking.”

“Kicking? You’re not going to hurt someone, are you?”

“No one you know,” he soothed.

“Well, I suppose that’s all right,” she said doubtfully. “If they deserve it.”

“Oh, they do.”

She leaned forward. “Tell me, Johnnie, did you know Madame Fischer before you stole her necklace?”

Several evasions sprang to Vanya’s mind. He really didn’t want to get into a discussion about how, precisely, he knew Madame Fischer. In the end, he simply said, “Yes.”

“What is she like? Is she a good person?”

“On the whole I would say…why do you ask?”

“Just because my cousin seems most smitten with her. And I’m not convinced she would be good for him.”

“She wouldn’t,” Vanya said bluntly.

“Because she’s married?”

“No, that’s the one thing in her favor. She can’t marry anyone else.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened. “You don’t think she’d commit bigamy with James, do you?”

“No, I don’t. You told me his family isn’t wealthy.”

“Ah.” Lizzie sat back, deep in thought.

“Does he go to her house?” Vanya asked reluctantly.

Lizzie nodded. “Is that bad?”

“It would be better if he didn’t.”

“Maybe I’ll go with him next time,” Lizzie said with a sigh.

“Good God, no,” Vanya said with enough fervor to attract her astonished stare. “I’ll sort it out for you,” he promised recklessly.

She regarded him, her head leaning slightly to one side. “I don’t think you’re cut out to be a thief, either,” she observed. “You’re much too good.”

“No one’s ever called me that before,” he said with perfect truth.

“What do they call you?”

“Wastrel. Rakehell. Irresponsible. Reckless. Foolish.”

“Are they desirable traits in a soldier? Because I don’t think Michael has any of those.”

“No, they’re not. I wasn’t a bad soldier, though. It was always civilian life I messed up.”

“Where did you fight?” she asked.

“Oh, all over the place.” He nodded out of the window. “Look, we’re making good time while the city is quiet. We should be there soon.”

If she noticed his rather blatant change of subject, perhaps she merely put it down to the understandable reticence of a thief, for she didn’t press him. She merely looked out of the window, allowing him to examine her profile without distraction.

Hers was a much subtler beauty than her sister’s, he thought. And very different again from Sonia’s or Louise’s or any of the other women who’d passed through his erratic life. They were like a different species from her.

It wasn’t even that he was in danger of placing Lizzie Gaunt on a pedestal—where she would be most uncomfortable. She just…stood out from the crowd. He wondered what she’d say or do if Johnnie the thief kissed her as Colonel Vanya had done. Would she finally connect the two?

Really, he had to stop caring. He had only to get tonight over with and take her home with her money. After that, Johnnie could disappear. And sooner or later, she’d find out who Vanya was. Perhaps he’d be gone by then. To Russia or even England. Perhaps she’d remember him kindly in the end. Or with spitting fury for his pretense.

The fiacre was slowing, turning onto a quieter road. They were nearly there. Vanya thought he’d chosen pretty well. The inn was far enough off the beaten track and well-hidden enough to be a possible den of thieves. In fact, it was, so far as he could gather, a respectable house where Lizzie was unlikely to come to any harm.