A Sister's Quest

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  To cover her apprehension at her own thoughts, she smiled and said, “Herr Professor, I shall speak with Count Vatutin. I am sure he will consider an acceleration of the lessons, especially as you have concerns about how much Rusak can learn when they return to Russia.”

  “Very good, Fraulein.” He nodded his farewell.

  Hurrying outside, Michelle was struck by the bite of the icy wind. Winter seemed earlier and harsher in Vienna than in Zurich, but it might be nothing more than the fact that she seldom had left the school buildings on the coldest days.

  Rusak leapt down from the box to open the door for her. “I could have opened it on my own,” she said as she stepped into the interior which was no warmer than the street. “There was no need for you to push aside your blankets.”

  I thank you, Michelle. He added more that she could not understand.

  “Herr Professor Waldstein warned me that you are learning faster than me,” she said with a laugh. “Slower.”

  Glad we come here. Glad we friends. You give me wings to sing again.

  Tears threatened to fall. “I am glad, too. You have worked so hard.”

  Alexei? He learns also?

  “Not yet. He is too busy, he says.”

  Sadness etched Rusak’s face as he nodded in resignation. When he closed the door, she swore under her breath. Rusak was doing so well, but it would be for naught if, when he and Alexei returned to Russia, no one comprehended what he signed.

  A sliver of pain sliced through her. Alexei would be returning to Russia. He had mentioned several times recently that he was curious about his next assignment. Although she had known this was only a temporary arrangement, as the days, then the weeks, passed, she had persuaded herself that it would continue. The thought of Alexei leaving forever cramped her middle as if she were sick.

  “You are want-witted!” she said aloud. “He has told you more than once you are important to him only because you are Maman’s daughter.” She hid her face in her gloved hands. Nothing, it seemed, that she could offer Alexei was enough to make him change his ways—not even love.

  Alexei put down his wineglass and stared at the man on the other side of the table. “You were my last hope, Robert.”

  “A hopeless hope.” The balding man chuckled as he reached for another piece of cheese. “LaTulippe has disappeared. Mayhap we can hope he was banished along with Napoleon to Elba.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Alexei looked past the man he would not even loosely call a friend. Robert had found himself elegant quarters in Vienna and a lovely woman to share them—the very life in reality that Alexei was living as a sham.

  Did Michelle note how he avoided her? Since he had revealed his shame to her last week in front of the fireplace, he had tried to be in the apartment only when she was out or asleep. Mayhap he should move out. Sleeping was impossible when he thought of her only an unlocked door away.

  “Did you hear what I said?” asked Robert.

  Alexei rested his elbow on the chair’s overstuffed arm. “No.”

  Robert laughed. “Honesty is refreshing from you, mon ami.”

  “Then I shall honestly tell you that I do not like how LaTulippe has slipped away again.”

  “What could you do?” Robert shrugged and smiled. “C’est la vie.”

  “C’est la guerre.”

  “Ah, but the war is over.”

  Pushing himself to his feet, Alexei asked, “Do you really think so? As long as LaTulippe and his allies are not at the end of a hangman’s noose, the war continues.”

  “Let him go. What trouble can he cause now that Napoleon is imprisoned far from here?”

  Alexei started to reply, then halted himself. He had seen this attempt at self-delusion too many times already in Vienna. Those who should be watching over their shoulders for a backlash from Napoleon’s allies wanted to pretend that the emperor was as docile as a house cat. But even that cat could extend its claws when backed into a corner.

  Picking up his glass, he finished his wine. He set it down and said, “It has been an interesting call, Robert. I shall see you again before I leave Vienna.”

  “You are leaving? So soon?” Robert stood, frowning.

  “If what I seek is not here, there is no reason for me to be here.”

  “And it would be uncomfortable to watch your mistress further cuckold you with that German prince.”

  Alexei laughed. “Do not fret about my mistress and me, mon ami.”

  “You are a generous man to share her with that princeling.”

  “Michelle and I understand each other.” He bade his host a good day and walked out before Robert could know how completely he was lying.

  Bending his head into the wind and snow, Alexei strode toward the address where he had promised to call this afternoon. Mayhap, if luck was once more on his side, the call would last late into the evening, and he would not have to return to the apartment to watch Michelle leave on Prince Charming’s arm.

  If he did, he might do something stupid that would ruin all his work here. He could not risk that … not even for the taste of her soft lips.

  You are a simpleton, he had told her during their heated quarrel in front of the fireplace, but he might have been wrong. He could not imagine anyone who was a greater fool than he was now.

  As Bartholomew walked into the apartment to escort her to the gathering in honor of Prince Metternich, Michelle saw a flash of disappointment when he noted that Alexei was not there. He was clearly eager to confront Alexei. Had he listened to anything she had said? It was just as well that she would not be seeing Bartholomew again after tonight.

  “I am ready,” she said with little subtlety.

  “Don’t you have to leave a message for your protector?”

  Her lips tightened. “Alexei trusts me to take care of myself.”

  Only when he had opened the door to the street did Bartholomew answer, “I cannot believe he trusts me.”

  “He does not.” She went down the steps that were covered with a dusting of snow except where his footprints announced his arrival.

  “Then Vatutin is more of a buffoon than I guessed.” He motioned toward the carriage.

  “Do not underestimate Alexei.”

  His lips tightened again, but he said, “We shall be late, Michelle, if we linger.”

  Michelle thought of saying she had changed her mind about going with him, but she knew he would only argue that she had promised. And she had. She sighed as, sitting stiffly in the carriage, she rocked when it started.

  “Michelle?” When she glanced at him, he said in an autocratic tone, “Michelle, answer me.”

  “You have not said anything yet.”

  He ran his finger along her cheek. “Last time we were together, you allowed me to kiss you. Now you act as if we are strangers.”

  “I know.” She could not tell him the truth. That would hurt him more. Or would he laugh that she was falling in love with a man who was shutting her out of his life?

  Bartholomew’s arm tightened around her. When she averted her face, he asked, “Do you find me so distasteful?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “I had planned to ask you a very important question later tonight, but I shall not delay.”

  “Bartholomew, I would rather speak only of the musicale.”

  “Vatutin is a rare man to allow his mistress to spend her evenings with another man and never suggest that there has been impropriety between us.”

  She frowned. She had not expected him to speak about Alexei. Not sure where this conversation was leading, she said, “He has said nothing because he knows the truth.”

  “Leave him, Michelle,” he urged with sudden ardor. “Leave him and come with me. I can make you happy.” His hands moved up from her waist. She clamped her elbows to her sides, trapping his hands away from her breasts. “Do you like being used by that Russian bastard?”

  “Bartholomew, insulting Alexei is unnecessary.”

  He bent to
place his lips at the crook of her neck. When she stiffened in his arms, he said, “Michelle, don’t hide what you feel to protect Vatutin. I harbor him no ill will for discovering you first. If he had not brought you to Vienna, I never would have met you.”

  She had worked so hard to keep this from happening. She must not hurt Bartholomew, but she also must not speak the truth. “I think you should take me home. I am no longer the proper companion for you to bring to this reception.”

  He scowled and pounded his fist against the side of the carriage. It stopped. “It would be better if you and I talk without anyone overhearing. Shall we walk?”

  “I doubt if you can say anything to change how I feel. I would rather return home.”

  He pressed her hands to his chest. “We are not far from your apartment. We can walk in that direction, and the carriage will follow. If you wish, it shall take you home after I say what I must.” He kissed her fingers fervently. “Or you may decide you don’t wish to return to Vatutin.”

  “Bartholomew, I—”

  “Will you listen to me, my dear? You owe me at least that much.”

  Michelle wanted to retort that she owed him nothing, but she must avoid angering him more. As he helped her from the carriage, she saw four shadows appearing around the end of it. His guards! Fiercely she said, “I don’t want them trailing after us.”

  “Why not?” Honest astonishment widened his eyes. “They are here to assure that no harm comes to me and my friends.”

  “If you truly want to talk to me alone, Bartholomew, order them to stay with the carriage.”

  Whether he knew she was serious or he was so eager to speak to her that he was willing to comply, she did not ask as he snapped an order. His bodyguards slipped back into the dark to leave them alone on the nearly deserted Platz.

  When Bartholomew offered his arm, Michelle put her fingers on it. She looked around so she did not have to see the recrimination on his face. There were enough within her, for, if she had been honest from the beginning, he might not have thought that she desired him as much as he did her.

  He led her across the Platz. The street beyond it was as silent as the plaza. Only the hooves of the horses behind them broke the silence.

  “I cannot believe that you wish to stay with Vatutin,” Bartholomew said. “I have seen how you change when he comes near. Something about him terrifies you.”

  She almost laughed, for Bartholomew was correct. Something about Alexei did frighten her—the strong passions he evoked within her. “I am not afraid of Alexei,” she murmured.

  “You cannot love him as I love you.”

  “You love me?”

  He stopped on the snowy street and turned her to face him. Snow speckled his top hat and his dark coat, but his eyes burned with longing. “I leave before week’s end for Coxe-Saxony-Colburg. Come with me, Michelle. I shall introduce you to my family. They will love you as I love you. Come with me tonight. You need not return to Vatutin. I can give you all you need.”

  She shook her head. Her vow to maintain this masquerade prevented her from being honest. Now she was not being honest with herself. It was not that promise that kept her from speaking the truth. She could not tell him—or herself—that she wished Alexei were the one speaking to her of love.

  Softly she said, “You are kind, but I do not wish to spend my life going from one man to another.”

  He took her hands between his and raised them to his lips. His fervor burned into her skin. “Then come with me to Coxe-Saxony-Colburg. I shall never leave your side.”

  “Even when you marry, Bartholomew? Your wife would be unwilling to share you with me.”

  He laughed. “Now I understand your dismay. I am not asking you to be my mistress. I am asking you to be my wife, my princess, my partner in ruling the lands I shall inherit. You are wiser than any ministers my father has, and you are beautiful. Why wouldn’t I want you to be mine?”

  In disbelief, she stared at him. He wanted to marry her? “You have overwhelmed me with your offer,” she said when she found her voice. “I wish I could give you the answer you want, but I cannot.”

  “Are you refusing me? You prefer to whore for a Russian than to be my princess?”

  “Bartholomew!”

  “Forgive me, my love. Those were the words of a shattered heart. I love you so much. If you will be mine, everything I have ever dreamed of would be mine. Michelle, be mine.”

  Her eyes closed to dam the tears clinging to her eyelashes. Gripping her cloak, she turned to walk along the street, needing to reach the apartment and shut out the world.

  Bartholomew’s hand halted her. She looked over her shoulder to see his handsome face so close to hers. If she had not known Alexei, she might have been willing to marry Bartholomew in hopes of falling in love with him. Now it was impossible.

  When she said that last thought aloud, he slowly released her hand. “May I call on you again, Michelle?”

  “I don’t think that would be wise.” She held up her hand to halt his protest. “We shall see each other at assemblies, but I think we should avoid any evenings alone. Good night, Bartholomew.”

  “Don’t you mean good-bye?”

  She glanced at his coach, where the door was being held open by one of his guards, then turned to walk along the street. Although she heard the rattle of the iron-clad wheels behind her, she did not acknowledge the carriage. She climbed the steps and closed the door behind her. Through the heavy wood, she could hear the clip-clop as the carriage continued past. She took a deep breath to swallow the tears clogging her throat.

  It should not have ended like this. Cinderella had sent herself back to the ashes with no hope of rescue by her charming prince. Hearing a door squeak in the shadows at the back of the hall, she scurried up the stairs to the apartment.

  Michelle fumbled in her reticule for her key. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the door. Praying Alexei was not yet home, she pushed it open. Her hopes vanished when she discovered that the front room was brightly lit. As quietly as possible, she shut the door.

  “Michelle, I did not expect you home so early.” Alexei sat with his feet propped, as usual, on the table. “Good, you can help me with some work tonight.”

  “It will have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Can it?” He scowled at her. “Are you sure of that?”

  “Not now, Alexei,” she whispered. Dropping to the settee, she clasped her hands. The flames on the hearth could not heat the iciness within her. What had been such an innocent flirtation had blossomed too quickly into something she could not control. Just as Alexei had warned.

  When the settee shifted, Alexei sat beside her and asked, “Are you going to tell me about it or just sit in silence?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered softly.

  When his arm surrounded her, giving her the haven she needed so desperately, she rested her cheek against his chest and looked up at him. He was not smiling. She was so glad. She could not face his teasing now.

  “Tell me, Liebchen. Did Prince Charming do something to hurt you tonight?”

  “Hurt me?” Her laugh sounded brittle in her ears. “He asked me to leave you and go with him to Coxe-Saxony-Colburg.”

  His fingertip caught a tear she had not realized had escaped. Balancing it for a moment, he let it fall, forgotten. “He has asked you to leave me before. If you are distressed because you have changed your mind, do not be. Go with him. When you reach his castle, you can tell him the truth, for by that time it will have no impact on my work.”

  “I am not going.”

  “Mayhap, if you are so unsettled, you should reconsider. ’Tis a settled life that you would enjoy.”

  “Be quiet!”

  When she stood, Alexei watched her intently. Every motion she made was as slow as if she waded through a field of ice. He waited for her to speak.

  “Alexei, have you ever had a dream come true offered to you?”

  “A dream?” He went to where she was sta
nding by the hearth. He sat on the arm of a chair.

  She smiled sadly. “I had a dream offered to me tonight.”

  “Love?” He was shocked by the swell of an unfamiliar emotion through him. He knew what it was, but he never had expected to experience it himself. Jealousy. Verflucht! He did not want to be jealous of Michelle and Prince Charming.

  “Yes.”

  “That is wonderful,” he said tightly as another pulse of jealousy sliced through him. Although he told lies so often, this was the hardest one. Michelle falling in love with her Prince Charming was something he had not anticipated. But why not? She had offered Alexei her soft kisses, but he had pushed her away … into another man’s arms.

  Michelle faced him and put her hand on his cheek. His hand covered hers, holding it against him, for if he let it go, he feared she would go, too. Forever.

  “Don’t lie to me, Alexei. You do not think it is wonderful. You think it is a disaster.”

  “A disaster? You should be rejoicing, Liebchen, if he asked you to be his mistress.”

  “His wife.”

  “His wife?” He stood and arched his brows to hide his amazement … and another savage stab of jealousy.

  “I told him I could not marry him,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  She smiled. “I don’t love him.”

  “That is no reason to turn down the chance to become a princess, Michelle!”

  “What do you know about it?” Michelle cried with sudden heat. Anguish crashed through her. “What do you know of love? Or of life? Or of anything but your job, which requires you to prostitute your life to it?”

  When he grasped her shoulders, his lips were a bleached line beneath his mustache. She was seared by the emerald fire blazing in his eyes.

  “Are you so blind?” he asked. “I know of life and I know of love. Far more than a woman who has spent her whole life in a convent.”

  “Alexei—”