by The Countess
"No."
"You are exceedingly honest tonight, another quality I admire in women and find so lacking. Are you always so truthful, Countess? No, don't answer," he said quickly. "I withdraw the question, it was unnecessarily provoking. Now, what is this trouble you are having with Major Krylenko?"
"He knows of Natasha's affair with the Lieutenant. Last night he got drunk and beat her. I am taking her away as soon as possible."
"Back to Bratz? Will she be safe there?"
Dmitri rose to his feet and removed the bottle of brandy to a table beside the fire, showing a concern which both puzzled and pleased her. She shrugged her slim shoulders.
"At Bratz I give the orders. What can he do?"
"The Major is not a man to stand by and do nothing," he warned. "Come and sit here on the couch. I am beginning to relax for the first time in weeks." His expression grew amused as she stood up, but did not join him. "I am enjoying your company, Countess. I would prefer not to, but I am forced to admit that it is not often I can talk to someone who is both beautiful and intelligent. Can we not be friends for a few more hours?"
Alexandreya wanted to stay. The temptation to remain almost proved too great, but in time she remembered Natasha alone and waiting for her.
"You have been very kind, Colonel Varanov. I did not deserve such hospitality after my behaviour the other day. I only wish it was possible to stay, but I have been away from my sister far too long as it is. Please understand."
"Another time then; before you go home?"
"Yes, Colonel, before I go," Alexandreya answered softly.
Dmitri fastened her cloak about her shoulders. His fingers lingered for a moment at the slender line of her throat, his eyes dark with thought.
"I will escort you in case the Major is still about," he said at length. "We can take the short cut across the square."
Except for the patrolling sentries, they encountered no one as they left the palace and began to walk across the wide quadrangle. Dmitri's hand rested lightly beneath her elbow and Alexandreya was thrilled by this unexpected change of character. At the gate leading to the courtyard behind the house, they stopped.
"I will come no further. Should the Major be inside, it is best we do not meet." He bowed low over her hand. "Thank you once again for the company."
"You are in a complimentary mood, Colonel," Alexandreya returned lightly. "Quite unlike yourself. Or is this the real you?"
"I don't understand what you mean," Dmitri said quietly. Her head barely came up to his shoulder. She really was a delicate little creature. A pity the evening had ended so quickly.
"I believe you maintain a front to offend people, especially women, yet tonight you have proved you are not beyond salvation."
"I am too far gone for that, believe me," Dmitri laughed.
"No, I do not believe you are. One day I am sure you will find your salvation in a woman, despite your hatred of us and your fear."
"Fear! That is a strange word to use. What am I afraid of?"
"The heartache of falling in love again, perhaps. Of giving your heart to a woman and not knowing if she will betray you for a second time."
Dmitri uttered a soft expletive.
"You could be my salvation, mala koska," he said and his voice was strained.
His mouth claimed hers possessively, drawing every ounce of resistance from her with a ruthlessness that made her tremble. She fought with him - and herself - for a moment, before surrendering utterly and completely to the joy of his kisses. A chuckle rose deep in his throat as he raised his head and stared down into her flushed cheeks.
"So at last you have grown tired of the pose. No matter, whatever you are, I still want you."
Alexandreya's eyes flew open in horror. He had tricked her deliberately and cruelly to make her drop her guard. With a distressed cry she tore herself from his grasp, ran through the gateway and slammed it shut behind her, pushing home the bolt so that he could not follow. She did not stop her headlong flight until she reached the sanctuary of her room and there the uncontrollable flood of tears broke loose.
She loved him - it was useless to deny it any longer. She had given her heart to a bitter, disillusioned man who considered her a cheap little tramp. He would not believe her capable of any genuine feelings, even if she had the courage to tell him. Some words of Natasha's came back to her. "He has a way of getting what he wants." He wanted her, he had said so. How long could she refuse him now that her love had revealed itself?
From the window of her room, she watched the solitary figure crossing the square, and her heart ached.
Sergei was waiting for Dmitri when he returned to his quarters.
"The lady has gone, Colonel?"
"Does it look as if she is still here?" Dmitri snapped. He splashed some brandy into a glass and gulped it back. "I came near to forgetting tonight, Sergei. I held a woman in my arms and actually believed her to be the innocent child she pretends. Am I mad?"
"She is very beautiful."
"So was Elena." Dmitri said the name with a black scowl. It was the first time he had mentioned the woman he had loved in over two years. "I still bear the marks of her treachery. It was you who brought me back to life, my faithful friend. What do you think of the Countess? I cannot trust her, nor can I use her. Why?"
"That is a question you must answer for yourself, Colonel, but if I was in your place, I would forget her, and quickly. There are other women in St. Petersburg."
"My God, I wish I could." Dmitri's tone was bitter. "It is not so easy."
"I am sure Madame de Veaux would be more than obliging. While you were in Moscow she sent several messages wanting to know when you would return."
"So that she could make a report to the Major, no doubt."
"One of her servants was here less than an hour ago. I told him you had retired. Somehow she has learned you are back."
"Has she now?" Dmitri had been about to pull off his jacket, now he refastened the buttons thoughtfully, "Madeleine knows more gossip than anyone in St. Petersburg, perhaps she also knows a few secrets I do not." He looked into Sergei's expressionless features with a faint smile, knowing full well he did not approve of the liaison.
"You are going to see her now?"
"There is no reason why I should not."
"Shall I wait for you to return?"
Dmitri shook his head.
"No, old friend. One way or the other I intend to forget the lady who was here tonight. Madeleine and her excellent wine cellar may be the combination I need."
The house of Madeleine de Veaux was in the prosperous French quarter of the city. She had moved there after the death of her army officer husband during the war with Prussia. Everyone supposed she had been left well off; few people knew of her association with Vladimir Krylenko, or that she was in fact one of the most able spies he had ever recruited and had been rewarded with magnanimous sums of money from the Czar himself.
The information she supplied led almost inevitably to the arrest and execution of double agents, or those merely loyal to a sympathetic consort instead of a sadistic ruler. She cared little whose name she passed on and it was not unknown, when military or official ranks were involved, for the victim to be arrested after spending a pleasant evening dining with her. Soldiers were an easy target and their tongues easily loosened with good wines and the company of a compassionate woman.
It had been through the carelessness of one of these men that the two friends of Andre Bruckner had been arrested and the relationship with the wife of his superior officer subsequently revealed. For this damning piece of work she had been given an expensive ruby necklace from Vladimir Krylenko as a bonus above the normal payment.
There was a single light in one of the upstairs rooms as Dmitri knocked on the door. He was admitted by a servant who knew him and shown into the comfortable drawing room, while Madeleine was informed of his arrival.
When she entered the room after deliberately lingering for
some ten minutes or so, he showed no signs of impatience as she expected, but was lounging in a chair sampling her best cognac.
A rustle of material behind him made Dmitri rise and turn towards the door. He inspected the black satin robe she wore with admiring eyes. Her raven hair was loose, falling over the fur-trimmed neckline, cut low across her breasts. She was an attractive woman, with striking clear-cut features; very long-limbed and slender. Dmitri had often gained great satisfaction from their association, but never pleasure and not once had he forgotten she was a spy.
"Madeleine, you look as charming as ever."
"No older, mon cher?"
His eyebrows rose quizzingly.
"It hasn't been that long. A month or two." Actually he had not spent a night with her since Christmas.
Madeleine opened her mouth to tell him exactly how long it had been, then decided otherwise as she saw a familiar mocking gleam creep into his eyes. Damn the man's arrogance! She moved towards the couch. Dmitri caught her around the waist and kissed her full on the lips.
"There, is that what you have missed?"
Madeleine broke free of him, the colour mounting beneath the thick powder on her cheeks.
"How dare you think I can be palmed off with a paltry kiss after so long! I am not your little Countess," she said furiously.
Dimitri stiffened and for a moment she caught sight of something lurking in the shadowy depths of his eyes that frightened her. She stepped back, unsure of herself.
His expression suddenly relaxed and an odd smile flitted across his face.
"No, you are not," he answered coolly, "but by God you are beginning to act like her." He filled his empty glass. "Can I get you a drink?"
"My usual, please."
He poured her some wine from the vineyards at Dominsk, a small wine-producing area not far from the city, renowned for the good quality of their produce.
"Dmitri, I'm sorry." Madeleine took the drink from him with an apologetic smile. Long, beautifully-tapered fingers caressed his hand. "I've missed you terribly. I was beginning to think you had deserted me, you know how jealous I am."
"I am told you are seeing a good deal of Borowowski."
"Him! He's the dullest and oldest of the Czar's cabinet ministers. Dmitri, how could you." Madeleine laughed. "You are quite right, of course, I have been seeing him a lot lately. I was lonely and he is very rich and rather sweet. He wants me to marry him."
"Why don't you?" Dmitri asked. Borowowski was past seventy and not expected to live much longer. Such a marriage would benefit only one partner.
Madeleine looked at him with a slow smile.
"You know I love you."
"Dushka, you are not capable of the emotion," he returned dryly.
"I would give my life for you," Madeleine said dramatically and was annoyed when he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
"That would be a stupid thing to do and such a foolish waste of life. You are not a fool." Dmitri glanced down into the large hazel eyes, watching him intently. "You are not the kind of person to waste your life in self-sacrifice, you have too many plans, too many schemes for power."
"You make me sound like Messalina. I leave that to Catherine," Madeleine said meaningly.
She was searching, probing for some word, a look to tell her why Dmitri had been sent to Moscow.
"You are the coldest man I have ever met," she declared, angry sparks glinting in her eyes. He was different tonight - somehow withdrawn. Perhaps the rumours were right and he had taken this Countess Romanova as his mistress.
"Not all the time, surely." Dmitri relaxed back on to the couch, toying with the ermine trimmings at her breasts.
"Have you been with her these past weeks?"
"Am I supposed to know who you mean?"
"Your Countess, of course." Madeleine could scarcely conceal the venom in her voice. One of her first assignments had been to become Dmitri's mistress. It was one of the hardest tasks she had ever been called upon to perform. She had been forced to endure sarcasm, insults and fits of temper, followed by moments of unexpected tenderness and it had taken her some considerable time to grow accustomed to his ways.
He was the only man she had never enslaved. He came and went from her house at will and she never refused him. She had done so once in a fit of pique and he had walked out of the room. It was she who had humbled herself and sent a message of apology. They did not speak of the incident, and she was careful not to lose control of her temper again. As a lover Dmitri had no equal. As a source of information he could prove invaluable, especially if, at the right time, pressure was brought to bear from others. Madeleine consoled herself with the fact that the Czarina Catherine would not take kindly to a man who associated with a spy. It was beyond her imagination that he not only knew of the deception, but was using it to an obvious advantage.
"Everyone at court knows I have been to Moscow," Dmitri said at length. "I assure you I was alone. One of the Major's men was unfortunate enough to start a quarrel with me - he lost it."
"And you took a short leave until the commotion passed over. How wise of you, and I am pleased you were alone. I do not think I like this Countess. Do I have a rival?"
"No."
"The whole court is sure she is your mistress." Madeleine was still uncertain.
"Let them think what they damned well like, she isn't now, nor will she be in the future. She's leaving St. Petersburg soon anyway, so stop worrying your head about something which will never happen." It could make no difference if Madeleine knew that, he thought and it might help to put their relationship back on its old footing.
She smiled, reassured and moved closer to him. Softened and warmed by a large amount of vodka, Dmitri slowly allowed himself to relax, ignoring the fierce tongues of flame in the hearth which reminded him of red hair. It was not his little cat who lay in his arms, but it was a woman and with her he would forget for a few hours. The coldness of his deceit did not prick his conscience one iota; he was using Madeleine as she had intended using him.
He gave her no chance to question him further. When he left her sleeping in the grey light of dawn and returned to the palace, he discovered although he had made love to Madeleine de Veaux, never for a moment had his thoughts strayed from the one woman who had remained, so far at least, out of reach.
The morning after Dmitri's visit to Madeleine, Major Krylenko received a message that sent him riding from the palace in all haste. At the Franklin Bridge, he reined his horse in beside a stationary coach and climbed inside.
"Well?"
He turned impatiently to the hooded figure in the far corner. Had he encountered Alexandreya at breakfast she would have received the brunt of his temper, as it was, she had taken breakfast in her room. Her non-appearance at dinner had sent him into an uncontrollable rage and it had not been diminished with sleep. Servants and soldiers alike had been on the wrong end of his vile tongue.
"Good morning, Major." Madeleine drew back her hood slightly and smiled at him, ignoring the black looks directed at her.
"Did you see him?"
"Of course. He came to the house about nine o'clock last night. I believe he was in Moscow merely to avoid any unpleasantness over the death of Colonel Drakman."
"He fears the Czar's anger. Good," Vladimir muttered.
"Non, non, Dmitri fears no man, but perhaps there is someone else who was afraid. Her Imperial Majesty perhaps. He is one of her favourites, remember, but to give him her protection against the Czar's wishes, would have forced her into a showdown and so she sent him away for a few weeks. It was self-defence, after all. Drakman was a fool. He was no match with a sword against Dmitri. By the way," Madeleine's eyes gleamed with triumph, "it seems the rumours are unfounded. The Countess Romanova is not his mistress. You were right."
Vladimir's face hardened. The gossip had irked him for weeks. Alexandreya belonged to a great and distinguished family. He had never believed she would lower herself to sleep wit
h a murdering peasant Cossack. He was also insatiably jealous at the slightest thought of her in someone else's arms. The more he compared her with his wife, the greater was his desire to have her.
"The court is seething with rumours and intrigue.
Where would I be if I believed everyone?" he replied
dryly. "You are satisfied you have a hold on him again?"
"Perfectly. He spent the whole night with me. Even if this other woman has attracted him, I will make him forget her. Once she has left he will not give her another thought."
"Left!" Vladimir's left hand snaked out and caught her arm in a grip that made her wince. "What talk is this? She has made no mention of it to me."
"Perhaps you are not in her confidence," Madeleine mocked, "Dmitri said she is soon to leave St. Petersburg."
Vladimir was astounded. He was a vain man and could not accept that he had not made some impression on Alexandreya. Had she not dined with him almost every night for a week, and then there were the conversations they had shared over a night-cap. He had actually begun to believe she liked him.
"She has no reason to go, besides there is her sister, my wife. They are very close." He was recalling Alexan-dreya's attempted intervention the time he had soundly thrashed Natasha. "She would not leave - unless-" He released Madeleine's wrist with an oath. "Is it possible that my dear wife has persuaded her it would be best for them both to return to Bratz, as revenge against me for parting her from her lover?"
"I had no idea you cared for your wife so deeply," Madeleine said with heavy sarcasm.
"I wish she was dead."
She leaned back in her seat with narrowed eyes.
"Then take advantage of the situation. There is one, is there not? Bruckner and your wife are - or were lovers. They have met more than once in Dmitri's hunting-lodge." She had learned this from the same source as the news of the affair. "Does it not strike you as odd that a member of Catherine's household, her personal guard commander in fact, should allow one of your men to use the lodge for his clandestine meetings? It could have the gravest consequences for him. Unless, of course, the Lieutenant gave him something in return."
